Back to Voyager
Kathryn Janeway and her amazed crew begin to cross the boarding bridge. They are about to embark in a revamped USS Voyager with two unidentified children aboard. Chakotay recaps words of wisdom from his animal guide: "Harmony heals distances".
Janeway looks over her shoulder. Sisko watches from a windowpane. She recounts his words: "You should initiate EMH immediately to examine those kids". Children usually bemuse her; but these ones catch the prize in mystery. In accordance to Captain Nerys: "Sensors scanned the two boys and, except for a few silly noises, they didn't pick up any life signs". She fixates her eyes on the hatch. "The Doctor may be able to report on ship's modifications" She wants to think.
Chakotay replays a vision of a coral snake crawling into the rainforest. Crew dissipates through the dazzling hatch; and right into a room with eight bizarre looking pods.
Janeway: Children! What're your names? Are you here by yourselves?
Bhytor: I'm Bhytor. He's Thamas. We're not alone. Mother oversees our assignments.
Thamas: Mommy inquires.
Miral: I like your jammies.
Neelix: Uppie. Uppie. Come with uncle Neelix!
Miral and Neelix baby-talk Thamas. He makes sepia jelly-fish faces.
Icheb: That was spooky! What's up with these kids?
Janeway: They aren't real.
Tuvok points at them with his tricorder. Bhytor moves evasevely.
Tuvok: They're photonic and organic in nature.
Icheb: That can't be... That's seriously advanced.
Thamas makes grainy-grey jelly-fish faces.
Miral: Icky! Not funny...
Thamas giggles. Tuvok keeps pointing at him with the tricorder. Thamas zooms out and bounces all over the place.
Bhytor: Your multifunction device overexcites him. Thamas! Stop it.
Janeway: Where is your... mother? Can I talk to her?
Bhytor: You must first conclude your nano-coating bath.
Janeway gets frustrated; but she's willing to let the children run the show for a little while.
Neelix: Tummy. Tummy. Nums-nums!
Bhytor: No need to use infant-direct-speech with him.
Thamas: I'm big boy.
Thamas makes cousin faces. Neelix feels restricted again.
Neelix: All right! Since you appear to be legally competent minors, I'd like then to file a complaint against this coercive sanitization.
Tuvok: Mr. Neelix; I don't think this is a decontamination procedure.
Miral consents with Neelix.
Miral: Well; this shower room, or whatever it is, feels intrusive and unnecessary.
Bhytor: Your responses lack criteria.
Miral: It is my opinion!
Bhytor: This is no shower-area.
Thamas: A-O-R! A-O-R! A-O-R!
Bhytor: Thamas! Enough... AOR - Ablution Outfitting Room; to treat your epidermis and equip you all with biomechanical suits.
Icheb: It is awkward; I feel like being wrapped up with plantain leaves.
Chakotay: Bhytor; I think I'm now ready to see your mother.
Bhytor: Could you please state your motivation?
Chakotay: I believe she's my estranged wife.
Thamas: Mommy watches.
The toddler warns everyone. Seven of Nine joins the group.
Seven: I wasn't estranged; but entangled by the execution of a Technology Convergence Program.
Thamas: Mommy! Mommy!
Janeway: Seven!
Janeway is appalled by Seven's reappearance.
Seven: Vice-Admiral Janeway, the bridge awaits you.
Janeway: You've been here... all these years.
Seven: 79,786.32461 hours to be precise.
Neelix: She looks alluring; and we're not in San Francisco.
Voyager travels at high Warp. Crew work on their tasks and participate in online tutorials, assisted by ship's holographic features. Seven, Bhytor and Thamas run workshops. Seven and a female Betazoid make eye contact. Seven feels a little awkward, but continues with her tasks.
"Captain Log; Stardate 8162. Crew quickly becomes acquainted with Voyager's improvements. Ship's ablative armour is made of snail-looking biochemical metamorphic probes. I love our intuitive comm system. We can be called 24/7 for input, based on our profile and potentials. By the way; I am feeling somewhat revitalized. Computer; delete that... last statement. It's not important" Janeway prefers to keep it professional; but she does feel terrific. "Is it the food?" She asks herself.
OCR doors slide. Tuvok and Chakotay get in. Janeway waits comfy seated on a couch, admiring the strange beauty of deep space.
Janeway: So vast; yet so intimate, isn't it?
Tuvok: "You climb to it; you drop in it"; a Vulcan proverb says.
Chakotay: "You'll never go through the whole thing"; my father used to say.
Janeway: Gentlemen! Let's make a toast.
Chakotay: You're in high spirits.
Janeway opens a bluish bottle over the table and serves the drinks.
Janeway: I'm intrigued; but happy to be here.
Chakotay: Exquisite aroma...What is it?
Janeway doesn't mind answering . She assumes it is a bottle of Andorian ale and that Chakotay isn't very habituated with its properties . They each grab a cup.
Tuvok: Vice-Admiral; notwithstanding our present mission, we're still based in an alternate reality and with no much intel on current status of the Delta Quadrant.
Janeway: I know... but aren't we the ultimate space explorers?
Chakotay: Tuvok my friend; embrace mystery first in order to unveil it.
Tuvok isn't thrilled by the prospects.
Janeway: Gentlemen! To a sense of belonging!
Chakotay: I drink to that.
They sip from their drinks.
Tuvok: Delectable; but unfamiliar...
Janeway: Computer; this isn't Andorian ale.
Computer: No! It's El-Aurian Nectar.
Chakotay: Alcoholic?
Computer: Affirmative! Drink in moderation.
Tuvok faints a little.
Janeway: Are you all right?
Tuvok: Nothing to be distraught at. My mind decays.
Chakotay: That sounds discouraging... especially for a Vulcan.
Janeway touches the front of her neck in sign of concern.
Tuvok: My thoughts hold an encoded notion.
Janeway: Oh no! Isn't that memory engram virus again?
Tuvok shakes his head.
Chakotay: Can you tell what it is?
Tuvok: A message... but I can't grasp it.
Janeway: Tuvok; you better go and rest for a while.
Chakotay: Good idea! Let me help you.
Tuvok: Vice-Admiral; I'm capable of ...
Janeway: I know you are. You're both dismissed. Go!
Chakotay and Tuvok leave. Seven comes in. Chakotay directs a gaze toward her. She makes an effort to ignore him. Janeway is still coping with Seven's ordeal. "Too tough for a Human", Janeway thinks.
Janeway: How's your Game of Velocity? We haven't played in a long while.
Seven: My intuition is much better. I broke all your records.
Janeway: You surely did. Me conversely...my whole body aches.
Seven imagines Janeway may be hoping for answers. She cuts to the chase.
Seven: Vice-Admiral; I don't know as much as you may expect.
Janeway: Okay; well, what do you know then?
Seven: Nanoprobes invaded, colonized and refitted Voyager. I was pulled in to help out testing systems and mentoring the children.
Janeway: We haven't yet turned into drones. Probes seem to be of the friendly type; I guess.
Seven: Or they might just be self-centered.
Janeway: Um! You mean... they may have an agenda. What about the Doctor? I would think he could have been helpful in this matter.
Seven: I only saw him recently... as part of a holo-program. I don't know how he got in there. He can't be activated. Thamas is a proficient RN though.
Seven's update on the Doctor doesn't get Janeway that worried. She suspects he will come around when need it. As for Thamas; she better don't mother-ease him during medical check-ups.
Janeway: Seven; I'm so sorry you got entrapped here.
Seven: It was difficult the first two years; but it made sense. They needed assistance from a life-form while spreading themselves out and working undisturbed.
Janeway: Why you?
Seven: I had faulty nanoprobes in me. They repaired my Borg contents.
Janeway: Your children?
Seven: They're byproducts of energy efficiency and software updating features; serving onboard as utility support. They might be modeled after an unknown Species.
Something flashy is outside catching Seven's attention. Janeway tries to follow Seven's eyesight towards the skylight.
Janeway: What is it? What's bugging you?
Seven: Not sure! My optical circuitry may not be entirely reliable.
They both angle off the skylight to resume their conversation.
Janeway: Anything else you'd like to report?
Seven: Voyager rummaged Jupiter's Ranch and beamed some goods in.
Janeway: You mean those...Hera Prototypes.
Seven: Yes; among other items, including construction tools and structural materials.
Janeway: Where are they?
Seven: With the Delta Flyer; in an "off-limits" Cargo Bay 1...
Janeway had already figured their return to Voyager wouldn't be without challenges. They will have to force their way into Cargo Bay 1 and face "whatever demon they find in it".
Janeway: We missed you. I'm glad to have you around.
Seven: I too missed you all.
Seven leaves the OCR with tears in her eyes. "She's vulnerable enough for a Human" Janeway thinks.
Battling for DS9
A Borg Cube comes out of the Bajoran wormhole and slows down on its approach to DS9. The station is in chaos. Many have fled to the planet. An outgunned merchant armada opens fire. Borg respond by slicing vessels with sharp Laser beams and shocking others with electro-plasma projectiles. Harry Kim is in charge of DS9, but he is having trouble carrying out his commands among rivals.
Harry Kim: Commodore Tabol! Retreat your freighters to shelter in Bajor.
Tabol: That's unacceptable!
Harry Kim: Your ships are no match for Borg. This battle is lost. We must regroup now in order to prevail later. Federation reinforcements are surely on their way.
Tabol: I won't surrender my vessels to Bajor.
Harry Kim: Nobody surrenders. Bajor offers everyone refuge; including Cardassians.
Tabol: Commander Kim! If this offer ends up being another Bajoran scheme; I will hold you personally responsible for damages caused.
Quark shows Harry some support.
Quark: In stressful games of Tongo, retreat may be a valid strategy.
Harry Kim: Interesting you say that! Why then are you still here? I ordered you to evacuate.
Quark: The way I see things; it might be a better strategy now to acquire.
Harry Kim: You can't be thinking of doing business with Borg.
Quark: Why not Kim? Once I get knowledgeable of their wants and needs...
Harry Kim: You are out of your mind!
Quark: I assure you these Borg are here to trade surplus for deficits.
Tabol misconstrues intentions.
Tabol: You miserable hustlers! I risk my neck in battle; while you contrive capital gains.
Quark: He spied on us! Cardassians are so rude and sneaky.
Tabol: You two! Human! Ferengi! Plotters! I had to hear it all. I trust neither one. You are both cardsharpers of the worst kind.
Harry is frustrated with Tabol.
Harry Kim: He's gonna' get us all killed.
DataEle: Commander! Central System reports corrupted files all over. DS9 Holomatrix is overloaded. I can't turn it off. Program runs with no safety protocols.
Harry Kim: Oh; jeez! Tom and B'Elanna! We need to get them out of there.
Tom and B'Elanna are trapped in their Holo-adventure. A couple of Hirogens carry out the ritual of painting their faces and helmets before the hunt begins. They'll be seeking worthy preys.
Tom Paris: This is not a glitch; but a major system crash. We are on our own.
B'Elanna: No kidding! The casket is dead. We can't recall the program. This is crap!
Tom Paris: Hirogen warriors will be soon coming after us with carving knives.
Tom is well educated in holo-decks. He figures the experience is already wide of the mark.
B'Elanna: Tom! Wait! We shouldn't jump into conclusions.
Tom Paris: B'Elanna! This is a self-aware Holo-system. It took away our TR-116s. This means its intuitive safety-protocols are likely to be off.
B'Elanna sets her eyes up. It looks aberrantly pretty.
B'Elanna: You may be right. Skies are distorted like a Klingon's street-party. This is my entire fault for being such a thrill-seeker.
Tom Paris: Don't blame yourself; I was on denial back there. The subspace anomaly is probably Borg like you said and DS9 is now under attack.
B'Elanna: We'll deal with the Borg later. We must first find weapons to put our hunters down. I don't want our remains to be displayed as trophies in their nets.
Tom Paris: On a positive note; our hunters will be insistently pursued by their females if our remains are deemed worthy trophies.
B'Elanna: So touching! I'll be then very sorry for killing their husbands.
Incoming Cube stays put out there; with unclear intentions. A handful of ships survived and retreat to Bajor, leaving behind scattered remains of their armada. Tabol is back furious with two comrades. There is hardly any staff left in DS9. A Borg boarding party is expected at any moment; but only a chilling female drone gets beamed in a sealed off Promenade. She's different. Though entrapped; she doesn't react aggressively and in a calmly demeanor ogles her surroundings.
Tabol: You two treacherous... thought you could outplay me.
Harry Kim: You got it all wrong, Tabol. Borg are the ones you should fear.
Tabol: They don't impress me. I'd like to see how fierce they can be against a squadron of Cardassians warships.
Quark: Gentlemen; we have her cornered. Don't you see? We should find out which of our surpluses interest her and navigate together the streams of commerce.
Harry Kim: You guys don't imagine in how much trouble we are. One Cube is capable of assimilating Bajor all by itself.
DataEle: Commander! I can't switch our Holo-Deck off; its intricate Xyrillian Matrix was unsettled by Borg Cube's kino-plasmic radiation.
Harry Kim: Keep trying! I know you can do it.
Harry doesn't forget his friends; but he is way more concerned about a Borg in the Promenade.
Tabol: Quark displeases me; but I agree with him. We must go in and get compensation for demurrage and loss of cargo.
Harry Kim: You can't be serious! You risk provoking a cube full of Borg.
Tabol: We are entitled. This is a mercantile post.
Quark: True! We are merchants.
Tabol: Commander Kim; please don't try my patience on this one.
Harry directs a hawk look to Quark.
Quark: What?
Skepticism annoys Quark; but he doesn't realize Harry has first hand experience with Borg.
Harry Kim: I don't think Borg plan to compensate you in any form; but I'll let you go in there and make your claims. I call the shots. Agreed?
Harry can't believe Quark and Tabol just concurred on something. He approves the initiative against better judgement in order to gain their trust.
Tabol: Thank you Commander; you're finally making sense. Comrades; come with me!
Quark: Tabol; I'd like my Dabo Girls to be part of our negotiation team.
Tabol: Ferengi! This is not a good moment to show weakness.
Quark: Don't let these girls deceive you; they know how to run tricky plays and to entice customers with their charms.
Tabol: And you think this Borg female is going to fall for that.
Quark: Of course; she will! I can tell. She likes beautiful people.
Two Hirogen warriors track their preys down. B'Elanna and Tom find apposite elements to make weapons. They'll try to get ready and hopefully, put up a good fight.
Tom Paris: Harry! We need help! Our adventure went south.
They ramble across the woodlands.
B'Elanna: Look! These ash-wood poles; we could sharpen their edges for spears.
Tom Paris: Wait! It gets better. I saw obsidian blades like these at the Museum.
B'Elanna: Careful! You could slice a big Targ in half with a single blow.
They assemble the ash-wood poles and obsidian blades.
Tom Paris: You wrap them up like this. It's an old Scout Ranger's trick.
They get deeper into dense forest.
B'Elanna: They're closing in. I can smell them.
Tom Paris: What shall we do? Hide in here and attack?
B'Elanna: We blend in the woods; use a decoy and lure them into an ambush. They will use their acute visual perception to our advantage.
Tom Paris: Maquis' guerrilla tactics...
B'Elanna: No; a mother's hunting trick...
B'Elanna winks at Tom.