To any vessels within range, I hope this message reaches you.
I'm an HD25 isomorphic projection.
There's been an accident. My crew is dead. I'm alone.
Please, help me.
So we rigged the security console
so every time Tuvok accessed the internal sensors
it would play a little message,
"Live long and prosper.”
No matter what button he pushed - "live long and prosper”.
No one was there to fix the malfunction.
So Tuvok had to stretch his patience to the limit for the rest of the day.
You could hear him grinding his teeth from across the bridge.
When he though it was over he went back to his quarters
and ordered some Vulcan tea,
and the replicator says...
"Live long and prosper.”
The first time I met Tuvok, he dressed me down
in front of three Starfleet admirals
for failing to observe proper tactical procedures during my first command.
My human ego took a little bruising but, of course, he was right.
Over the past nine years,
I've come to rely on his insightful and unfailingly logical advice.
For outstanding services, Chief Tactical and Security Officer,
it's my pleasure to grant you the rank of lieutenant commander.
- Congratulations, Tuvok. - Thank you, Captain.
Had I known this commendation entailed ritual humiliation, I might have declined.
However, I accept it and will honour the responsibility that comes with it.
During my three years on Voyager I have grown to respect many of you.
Others... I have learned to tolerate.
As tactical officer, I will do my best to ensure a safe passage home.
As a Vulcan, I share the following sentiment...
live long and prosper.
Bravo. Well deserved.
B'Elanna.
This is ridiculous, we haven't spoken for days.
I know, I know. We have to talk.
About what you said... I mean, the part about being in love with me.
I realise you were suffering from oxygen deprivation
and we were literally seconds away from death.
- So I know you probably didn't mean it. - No, no, I meant it.
But I don't expect you to... reciprocate.
Really, you can just pretend I didn't say it. In fact, let's forget that...
Shut up.
- Mr Paris, there you are. - I was just leaving. Lieutenant.
What can I do for you, Doc?
The captain has authorised me to recruit someone to help in sickbay.
Unfortunately, the most qualified crew member is you.
- You want me to be the new nurse? - If that's the title you prefer.
It will only be temporary. Three duty shifts a week.
Report to sickbay at 0600 hours. Bring a tricorder and a smile.
What kind of modifications?
The astrometrics lab hasn't been upgraded since we left Spacedock.
- I'll start right away. - Seven of Nine will work with you.
She's agreed to provide us the navigational data
she acquired while with the Borg.
- Is there a problem? - No. No problem.
- Make her feel part of the team. - Part of the team.
Have you made arrangements with the Arritheans?
The delegate says he's looking forward to trading.
You have done an excellent job, Neelix.
We should consider this your first assignment as ambassador.
- Ensign Culhane to the Captain. - Janeway here.
We are receiving an automated distress call five light years away.
You might want to bring the doctor.
I'm an HD25 isomorphic projection. There's been an accident.
My crew is dead. I'm alone.
Please, help me.
He's a hologram. We've got to help him.
Ensign, track the source of the transmission.
Once we find his ship, I'll lead an away team.
I don't recall giving you a promotion today.
Well, I'm the obvious choice to provide assistance to a holographic being.
Doctor, I don't want you leaving Voyager unless absolutely necessary.
I'm concerned about damaging your mobile emitter.
I understand.
But if this is a hologram, one of my own kind so to speak,
I'd like to meet him, study him.
I'll bring Lieutenant Torres, she knows more about my emitter than anyone.
The rest of us will meet with the Arritheans.
We'll see you there, when you're finished.
Thank you, Captain.
- Seven? - I am here.
- Am I to work with you? - Oh, hi. Yes.
I thought we'd start in Jefferies tube 32B
to enhance the astrometric sensors if that's OK.
Unless this is a bad time. I can come back.
- Ensign Kim, you seem apprehensive. - No, not at all.
Last time we worked together, I struck you and tried to contact the collective.
- These things happen. - I assure you it will not happen again.
That's good to know.
I've designed new navigational sensors. Some of the alphanumerics are Borg.
No problem. I always wanted to learn Borg.
- That is difficult to believe. - I was kidding.
- It was a joke. You know... humour. - I understand the concept of humour.
It may not be apparent but I'm often amused by human behaviour.
Relax, Doctor. I'm sure we'll find the ship.
That's not what I'm concerned about.
I'm questioning leaving Mr Paris in charge of my sickbay.
Tom will do fine. He's a very responsible guy.
I suppose you'd know better than I would.
- What's that supposed to mean? - You seem to be good friends.
Let's get one thing straight.
I don't appreciate you or anyone else speculating about my friendships.
- Or who I have them with. - Sorry, I didn't realise I'd struck a nerve.
Perhaps you'd like a tranquilliser.
- There it is. - That's his ship? Try hailing it.
- No response. - Lifesigns?
A few readings but they're erratic. Compulsion and main power are down.
We're approaching transporter range.
Hello? Is anyone here?
We're here to help you.
- No signs of life? - Not yet.
I'd like to check your emitter, make sure you made it through the transport OK.
For a Klingon, you have a decent bedside manner.
Thanks.
I wonder what kind of bedside manner Mr Paris will exhibit?
That was a rhetorical question, Lieutenant.
Your matrix is stable. Let me check the power cells.
You should consider a career in medicine.
Where the hell...
Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you.
- You sent the distress call? - Yes, yes.
Yes, that's me. It was me. And you, you're an isomorph like myself?
We use the term hologram.
Hologram.
- And you, you're a hologram too? - No.
- You're organic? - That's one way of putting it, yes.
Your program is fairly compatible with our holographic technology.
- Where can I access your controls? - Why?
You're obviously malfunctioning, maybe I could repair you.
Of course. I'd appreciate that.
Over there. You can access my systems from that console.
What happened here?
It was terrible. Just terrible.
We left Seros eight months ago - Seros, our home planet -
with a crew of six.
- All isomorphic projections? - No. Just me.
I'm an HD25 maintenance unit with extreme hazard clearance.
I'm responsible for cleaning the reactor,
ejecting antimatter waste, that sort of thing.
When the crew got sick there was nothing I could do.
I'm not designed for medical functions. I...
Try to calm down. Explain what happened one step at a time.
Two of the crew members left to survey a planet.
When they came back they had been infected by a virus.
It spread quickly to the other organics on board.
And one by one, well, I watched them all die.
Then things started to malfunction here. I have limited knowledge of the controls.
I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come.
I've stabilised your program, but I need access to your isomatrix. Where is it?
On the lower deck. You shouldn't go down there.
- Why not? - Too dangerous.
That deck's been flooded with antimatter radiation.
Flesh would disintegrate within seconds.
You can access my isomatrix from this deck.
There's an interface junction in that compartment.
Thanks.
Mind if I run a quick diagnostic?
- What's your name? - I don't have a name.
It's a long story.
I'd like to hear it. And everything else about you.
I'm ready to supply power to the enhanced sensors.
- What? Already? - Yes.
You believe my work is unsuitable?
Just checking. It's standard procedure.
I may no longer possess Borg perfection,
but my experience as a drone has taught me to be precise.
You've misaligned this optical assembly.
Impossible.
Take a look. It's off by 0.5 degrees.
It must have been my humanity reasserting itself.
I will correct the error.
So, what do you do for fun down in cargo bay 27.
Fun?
Relaxation, entertainment during your off hours.
I regenerate in my alcove. I study the Starfleet database.
Or I contemplate my existence.
- That's a lot of time by yourself. - It is.
The optical assembly is aligned.
I'm ready to access the main power supply.
After you.
Wait! Five million gigawatts are running through there!
My exoskeleton can withstand it.
- There are safety procedures. - Your procedures are a waste of time.
Maybe so, but you're assigned to me and I say we do this by the book.
- All right? - All right.
Well...
Now that we've got that cleared up.
You can use this emitter to go anywhere?
My captain has imposed a few restrictions.
But I'm free to leave sickbay, join away missions, take a stroll...
Extraordinary. I've never left this vessel before.
And until the crew got sick, I never left the antimatter storage chamber.
Do you know what it's like to spend your life trapped inside a tiny room,
not knowing what's beyond the door, what the world is really like.
Nobody coming to see you or talk to you unless they want something.
Actually, I know exactly what it's like.
When first activated I was regarded as little more than a talking tricorder.
I had to ask for the privileges I deserved -
the right to be included in crew briefings,
the ability to turn my program on and off.
It has taken time but I have earned the respect of the crew as an equal.
An equal?
I've also pursued personal interests - art, literature, music.
Perhaps you could do the same.
No, no. My programmers on Seros would never allow that.
Then you'll convince them.
Maybe they will appreciate how well you've coped,
how you've managed to find help.
Think about it.
You've already exceeded the sum of your subroutines.
- What are you doing? - Nothing.
I'm just sterilising the ship. I'm fastidious about germs.
I know that must sound strange coming from an artificial being.
Not at all. I've been known to act a little strangely myself.
Hungry? You're organic, you require nutrients.
They're only rations but our crew liked them.
Careful!
That conduit could destabilise your matrix.
How stupid of me. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have barged in here.
It's all right. I could use a break.
Thank you.
- You nibble. Like a fish. - I'll take that as a compliment.
Oh, it is. I've never seen a fish before, not a real one.
But I've read about them on our database.
Fish aren't like other organics. They're more passive, I think. Most of them.
And so clean.
Is there anything I can do to help with repairs?
When I'm done with lunch, you could help me access your primary matrix.
Gladly.
Is something wrong?
Seeing the ship ripped apart like this, it's...
I guess I can't help feeling a kind of affinity for this vessel.
It sustains my existence.
And sometimes I feel like it's a part of my body. My soul.
- That probably sounds silly to you. - No. No, I understand how you feel.
You couldn't possibly understand how I feel. You're organic.
You exist apart from your ship. "I understand how you feel."
- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. - You're the one who's trapped, not me!
You spend your life stuck inside a biological cage of flesh, bone and blood.
- I'm going to give the doctor an update. - I exist as pure energy.
But you depend on food and water to survive. Frankly, I find it disgusting.
Look at you. Look at you!
Grinding up bits of plants and animals with your teeth.
Secreting saliva to force it down your oesophagus into a pit of digestive acids.
You can't even stand it yourself. What a repulsive creature you are!
Shedding your skin and hair, leaving your sweat on everything.
You think you're the height of intellect in the universe,
but you're no better than any filthy animal,
and I am ashamed to be made in your image!
My apologies. My apologies.
I have acquired some hostility toward organics.
It was not meant for you.
I was treated quite badly by the crew here.
I'm sorry to hear that.
But you have to realise that we're here to help you.
Thanks for the rations.
- We've got a problem. - Oh?
There's a problem with our isomorph and I don't mean his emitters.
Explain.
I've just spent the last ten minutes hearing his views on biological life.
Let's just say they are a bit unconventional.
Did you realise that we organics are a bunch of inferior, disgusting animals?
Now that you mention it.
He started ranting about how much he despises organics.
I didn't think I was going to get out without a fight.
- I'll admit he is somewhat socially inept. - Inept? He's a lunatic.
- That is not a sound medical diagnosis. - He has also been lying.
I ran a tricorder scan of the deck he said was flooded with radiation.
Well, it's not.
- Why would he lie? - I don't know.
Maybe he doesn't want us down there. Maybe he's hiding something.
I understand your concerns, Lieutenant.
I've been talking to him and I recognise he has some... behavioural difficulties.
But he's been trapped in a room no bigger than a storage compartment.
He's had almost no interaction.
It's only natural he's developed problems communicating, even a little resentment.
Do you recall when I was activated?
How could I forget, you were a pain in the...
My point is, I too was somewhat alienated from the rest of the crew.
It took me a few days to master the social graces.
I realise he is a fellow hologram and that you are committed to helping him.
But I want the ability to shut down his program if I have to.
If you really feel that's necessary.
I'm going to search the lower deck to see if I can access his isomatrix.
You keep him occupied. He wouldn't appreciate a filthy animal snooping...
- Am I interrupting? - No.
Actually, I was just leaving.
I'd like you to meet someone. Doctor, this is Spectrum.
- A holographic fish? - Magnificent, isn't he?
So peaceful and so content. I programmed him to keep me company.
Well, don't you have a pet?
It wouldn't be appropriate in a medical environment..
They wouldn't let me have one either. I had to hide him.
He's very lifelike. I didn't realise you had such a talent for holographic design.
I've programmed all sorts of things.
This node contains Borg navigational data.
How do we get it out of here?
The proper instrument was removed from my thoracic assembly.
- I suggest a radical dislocation. - A what?
We need to pull it out. Assist me.
- OK. On three. - Three?
- On the count of three, we pull together. - Crude, but effective.
One, two... three!
I've been damaged.
That looks bad. You'd better get to sickbay.
As a drone, I would have regenerated within seconds.
I've become weak.
No more than the rest of us. You'll be fine. Come on.
I'll walk you there.
You could have severed the carpal nerve.
I'd have had to operate.
You're a mere mortal now. As your family doctor, I suggest you be careful.
There, good as new.
I'll see you back in the cargo bay.
- What sort of bedside manner was that? - What are you talking about?
She's feeling vulnerable, and you're on about severed nerves and surgery.
Take it easy, I was just trying to lighten the mood. She wasn't upset by it.
- She was. I could see it on her face. - You seem a little protective.
This morning you were dreading being in the same room with her.
Well, I've gotten to know her a little better.
I don't think most people realise she's not just some Borg automaton.
She's actually very complex.
- Really? - Yes, she is.
She's even got a sense of humour. It's offbeat, a bit subtle maybe.
And she's incredibly intelligent.
- She assimilated enough people. - See? See what I mean?
It's Borg this, Borg that. You can't resist making a joke.
There's a woman in there. If you take the time to look.
Harry, you've got a crush on her, don't you?
What? No, not at all.
Maybe just a little.
I've seen this look in your eyes before you fall head over heals.
You always go for the tough ones. What was it last time, a hologram?
I don't know much about Borg women but my advice to you is "don't".
Just trying to make her feel like part of the team.
Part of the team? You sound like Chakotay.
Look. She's beautiful and she's smart
and I'm sure she's a wonderful... conversationalist.
But a month ago she was Borg. You don't really know who she is.
It's great that you're trying to make her feel comfortable. Just be careful.
Thanks for the advice.
I just hope you take it.
Now that we're clear on the helm...
- This is a lot to learn. - You're doing fine.
It's vital you are familiar with all the ship's systems
so you can be more self-sufficient.
Here are the life support functions.
Well, I won't need those anymore. No crew to worry about.
Not at the moment.
- 59.2%. - I beg your pardon?
That's how much power went into life support. 59.2%.
Just to keep them breathing, warm, comfortable.
They do require quite a bit of maintenance, don't they?
I should know. I spent my entire existence cleaning up after them.
When they were busy sleeping or eating.
Or engaging in their slovenly carnal pleasures.
And this is the sensor grid. You'll find it useful when...
They took advantage of me.
I wish I'd been more like you.
You showed me I could be more than a slave to these biological creatures.
I'm not taking this ship back to the organics. I won't return to that existence.
- It's a little extreme, don't you think? - Join me. Leave Voyager.
Escape your prison. Together we'll take this vessel and explore the galaxy.
There you are.
You gave me the idea.
- Me? - You said to be more self-sufficient.
I agree we should be treated equally as members of the crew.
But we're projections. We have limitations.
No! No, no, no! We don't need nourishment.
We don't suffer disease. We're the higher form of life.
- What's that? - Lower deck.
Someone's trying to access my matrix. I'll be back.
You!
No. No!
B'Elanna!
Ensign Kim, personal log, stardate 51186.2.
Working with Seven of Nine is starting to get a little awkward.
Tom's right, anything more than friendship is a bad idea.
But I can't stop thinking about her.
You wish to see me, Ensign.
I had this midnight inspiration about reconfiguring projectors.
- I hope you weren't... regenerating. - I was not.
This is tricky stuff. It could use your touch.
Your way of looking at things. A fresh perspective.
Your data?
- Why not sit down? - I prefer to stand.
You would be more comfortable.
Comfort is irrelevant. We're here to work.
OK.
- This light is insufficient. - But it's relaxing, don't you think?
After hours. Quiet.
Voyager isn't all Jefferies tubes and cargo bays.
Tell you what, when we're done I'll take you to the holodeck.
We'll run the moonrise simulation.
- It's beautiful. - Beauty is irrelevant.
Unless you wish to change the nature of our affiliation.
What do you mean?
I may be new to individuality, but I'm not ignorant of human behaviour.
I've noticed your attempts to engage me in idle conversation.
And I see how your pupils dilate when you look at my body.
What are you talking about?
Obviously, you want to visit the holodeck in order to create a romantic mood.
- Are you in love with me, Ensign? - Well... No.
- Then you wish to copulate? - No!
I mean... I don't know what I mean.
Oh, these elaborate rituals of deception.
I didn't realise becoming human again would be such a challenge.
Sexuality is particularly complex.
As Borg, we had no need for seduction. No time for single-cell fertilisation.
We saw a species we wanted and we assimilated it.
Nevertheless, I'm willing to explore my humanity.
Take off your clothes.
- Seven... - Don't be alarmed. I won't hurt you.
Look. This is a little sudden. I was just trying to...
Part of the team, you know.
- Maybe we should just quit for now. - All right.
Let me know when you wish to resume our work.
It's all right, B'Elanna. You're safe.
- The isomorph? - Apparently, you deactivated him.
- I took all his emitters off-line. - Not a moment too soon.
I found six corpses on this deck, all of them murdered.
You almost became number seven.
Oh, what did he do to me?
He reached inside your chest and grabbed your heart.
- It perforated your fourth ventricle. - Great!
- I'm concerned about internal bleeding. - Prognosis?
Less than stellar, unless I get you back to Voyager.
Unfortunately, I'm having trouble accessing our transporters.
He must have disabled our com-link to the shuttle.
Help me get to the command chamber.
Looks like he's set up a dampening field.
I think I can cut through it but I'll need to open this control panel.
My engineering kit is on that console.
B'Elanna, I thought you said you took all of the emitters off-line.
I did. Why?
I think you'd better double-check.
- You said you'd help me. - Put that down.
You lied. You lied to me. I thought you were my friend.
It's for your own benefit. Someone needs to repair your program.
- It's malfunctioning. You're unstable. - No, no, no!
You're unstable. You're a hologram who thinks like an organic.
This could get tedious.
Freedom.
Oh, you're getting blood everywhere.
I'm going to have to deactivate you.
- Is he? - Deactivated.
- And you? - Ready to get out of here.
Come in.
We've completed the schematics for the astrometrics lab.
You and Seven must been putting in a lot of extra hours.
- She's not much for procrastinating. - I'm sure she's not.
Looks like you're ready to begin construction.
It might be better to bring in the engineering team for that.
Recruit all the help you need.
In fact, they should probably take over at this point.
Don't you want to supervise? The astrometrics lab is your baby.
I would. I just don't think it would be the best use of ship's personnel.
- I can rearrange the duty shifts. - You don't have to do that.
I'm sure Seven can handle things.
Harry, are you having some kind of problem with her?
- No. No problem. - If you are, I'd like to hear about it.
No, sir. There's no problem. Not at all. Absolutely not.
If you'll excuse me, I'll be going now.
Ensign Kim? Let's have it.
- We had a misunderstanding. - About?
It's not important. Just your basic Borg/human cultural differences.
Really? That's not what she says.
You... You spoke... spoke to her?
She thinks you're making good progress.
She finds you reasonably efficient,
and says you've taught her about our complex social interactions.
- Any idea what she meant by that? - Can't imagine.
You two make a good team. I want to keep you both on this project.
Sir...
Aye, sir.
And maybe others in the future. Have fun.
I've stopped the bleeding and repaired the damage.
Your pericardium is clean as a whistle.
Which is more than I can say for my sickbay.
I'm sorry about the mess. I haven't had time to clean up.
It was hectic. I treated broken bones, an upset stomach and a lacerated hand.
Does this mean you're too tired to meet later, in my quarters?
Are you sure your heart can take it?
I'm detecting elevated hormonal levels.
If you two don't take it easy, I'll have to declare a medical emergency.
Excuse me, I have to check on Harry. I hear he's having a nervous breakdown.
- It's a long story. - Not so fast.
You are going to help me sterilise every square millimetre of this sickbay.
No doubt, you've left your oily residue on every hypospray,
your sloughed secretions on every console.
Just kidding. In fact, I've had a change of heart about my fastidiousness.
A little clutter never hurt anyone.
Sickbay should have a more organic touch.
To help our patients feel more at home.
What's gotten into him?
It's a long story.
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