All right. Hold on. If you were married in 2304
and your daughter was conceived during your 11th Pon farr,
that would make you... 162 years old.
- Incorrect. - The man's not a day over 140.
We know you were 100 when you joined Starfleet the second time so... 1337.
Also incorrect. You both lack sufficient data to reach a logical conclusion.
- Come on, tell us. - I see no reason to enlighten you.
Don't tell me Vulcans are embarrassed about age.
On the contrary. We value the wisdom that comes with advancing years.
- In that case, how wise are you? - Wise enough to end this enquiry.
- Saved by the bell. - A fleet of ships 200,000 km ahead.
- Can you identify them? - Negative.
- I'm reading multiple hull configurations. - Raise shields. Red Alert.
- Report. - A group of vessels ahead.
- Hostile? - Possibly. I'm charging weapons.
On screen.
I'm counting 62 ships and a few hundred pieces of ships all dead in space.
It's a junk yard. Congratulations, Tuvok.
You saved us from a flotilla of hostile trash.
- We're being hailed. - Let's see what they want.
Welcome to Abaddon's Repository of Lost Treasures.
Whether you want to buy or simply browse, we're always open. Take a look.
You may find something you never knew you wanted.
Mr Abaddon.
The name was passed down to me.
Not imaginative, but I'll answer to it.
I'm Chakotay, this is Neelix.
You're a trader?
What makes you say that?
Cheerful demeanour, furtive eyes.
Very perceptive, Mr Abaddon.
There was a time when I dabbled,
but these days I focus on food.
Whether you want a new oven,
or a slightly dated translation matrix,
you've come to the right place.
My inventory, give or take a few items.
You have a few items of interest.
What are you looking for in return?
Artificial gravity plating.
Plasma-based power induction.
Those are integrated systems.
We'd have to dismantle the whole ship.
Don't we have some duranium sheeting?
With modifications, it could be converted into gravity plating.
Good idea. Show Mr Abaddon our inventory. Report when you're done.
Yes, sir. Mr Abaddon, follow me, please.
He's collected more technology than the Borg.
Almost all of it is useless.
Wait. What's that?
- Ensign? - Grid 49 alpha.
- She's beautiful. - Just an old rust bucket.
Are you kidding? Look at those lines. It's a work of art.
That wasn't assembled, it was sculpted.
I think I'm in love.
That makes 15 power regulators in fair condition.
And three more we could salvage with a little work.
- Seven has doubts about the rods. - Take a chance. Add them to the list.
What about these cultural artefacts?
Just a few items with historical value. They don't cost much.
Looks like a good haul. If that's it...
Yes, there is one other item.
A small vessel that could be an asset.
We've got a good lot of shuttles, not to mention the Delta Flyer.
What do we need with this derelict ship?
This ship is a diamond in the rough. Sure it's got scratches, but...
Here. Take a look at these systems.
It has a neurogenic interface that allows it to react to the pilot's thoughts.
It has the potential to be quicker than anything we've got, including the Flyer.
- Add to that an optronic weapons array. - I get the picture.
- Are you sure it's not just a new toy? - No. Absolutely not.
Even B'Elanna thinks restoring it is worthwhile.
- Maybe if we had the manpower... - I'll do the work myself on my own time.
And, if I need a hand, Harry's offered to help.
- I have? - What will it cost us?
Three used power cells and Tom's interactive record collection.
My jukebox.
All right. One slightly used alien ship.
- Don't make me regret this. - You won't.
Remember, not much storage. She's designed for speed.
- Go easy on the thruster. - Temperamental?
Sensitive. She demands respect.
Sounds like you're sorry to let her go.
In some ways, she's like the daughter I couldn't marry off.
You're the kind of pilot she needs.
- Someone who will give her care. - I'm your man.
Don't worry, she's in good hands.
This has been a very productive exchange.
- Just one more thing. - Let me guess. All trades are final.
I still can't get an active readout.
Here's the reason. Another damaged power cell.
Come on, Alice. How about it? Give us a break.
- Alice? - I've got to call her something.
- How about "The Lost Cause"? - Alice Battisti was the lost cause.
I knew her back at the Academy. She was smart, sexy...
And she wouldn't give me the time of day.
All right. Alice it is.
Try it again.
I've got a pulse.
- A little snug. - As Seven would say, "Efficient design."
The main computer's coming on-line.
There's not much in it. Just a few schematics.
- Someone tried to wipe the database. - Rolled the odometer back, too.
Let's see what this neurogenic interface can do.
Whoa.
What's it like?
It's kind of hard to describe. I'm tapped into the primary systems -
ops, tactical, sensors.
- What happened? - We blew out two more power cells.
See if you can reconfigure the power distribution grid.
We're both tired. Let's call it a night, come back fresh tomorrow.
- We can get a couple more hours in. - You can. I'm going to bed.
All right. You win.
Good night, Alice. See you in the morning.
'Good night, Alice. See you in the morning.
Tom.
B'Elanna?
Tom.
- Who are you? - It's me. Alice.
Good morning, Alice.
Sorry, but you're gonna have to trust me on this.
You'll be a lot happier if we can bypass the EPS relays.
- Tom, who are you talking to? - Alice. She's being very stubborn today.
I can't get her to bring her propulsion systems on-line.
Next question. What are you wearing?
A flight suit design I found in Alice's database.
Something her last pilot used to wear.
For a minute, I thought you were changing Captain Proton's look.
Chapter 37.
"The Web of Pain"? I completely forgot.
No problem. I've got another hour on the holodeck.
Now's not a great time. How about tomorrow?
- That's what you said yesterday. - Alice needs me.
- So does Arachnia. - Give the queen my regards.
OK.
- Can I get you something? - A refund.
The star charts we obtained are inaccurate.
The computations are based on obsolete data.
It's not the only item that didn't live up to its advertising.
Cultural artefacts.
According to Abaddon, lost treasures of the Delta Quadrant.
If you ask me, they're worthless trinkets.
- Perhaps not. This crystal is beryllium. - Valuable?
It's the standard currency in spatial grid 539.
There are species that would trade a fleet of starships for this trinket.
If Abaddon knew, he'd never have traded it for a few plasma couplings.
Maybe I should return it.
Need I remind you? All trades are final.
Neelix, I need one bottle of champagne, if you don't mind.
- Another anniversary? - I'm christening Alice.
Congratulations. I'll whip up some hors d'oeuvres for the crew.
Don't bother. This is a private ceremony. Just me and B'Elanna.
- And Alice, of course. - Of course.
There's nothing like having your own ship.
I remember when I laid eyes on my little freighter.
- Don't tell me. Love at first sight. - She was the ugliest thing I ever saw.
But she grew on me. Eventually, I couldn't imagine being without her.
She's still in the shuttlebay. Let's go on a double date.
You pack the picnic basket, I'll bring the deuterium.
I finally get to meet the other woman.
- Don't be critical. She's not finished. - When have I ever been critical?
Is that a trick question? OK, ready?
- Well? - It's beautiful.
- I can hardly believe it's the same ship. - Most of it isn't.
I've replaced the impulse reactor, navigational array,
plasma manifolds. The list goes on and on.
Just a few more repairs and she'll be spaceworthy.
Care to do the honours?
It's almost a shame to break this over the hull.
You have a point.
Be careful. The upholstery.
I'll send an engineering team to clean it up.
- To Alice. - To Alice.
- When's her first flight? - A couple of days if I can get the parts.
You want to come with me?
- Sure there's room? - It'll be a tight squeeze.
We'll manage.
- Hold on. - Something wrong?
These environmental controls. They need recalibrating.
- It is warm in here. - Alice, lower the ambient temperature.
- Please specify, Tom. - Five degrees should do it.
Temperature modification complete.
- That's some voice. - It came with the ship.
- Are you jealous? - Maybe I should be.
I hear you've been sleeping here.
- When Alice lets me sleep. - Sounds like a slave driver.
If you want to make improvements, start here. The deuterium mix is too high.
That's how Alice likes it.
- Don't touch that. - I was just trying to help.
- Thanks, but we're fine. - We? It's a ship, Tom.
Yeah, but she's my ship.
Maybe I'll leave the two of you alone.
OK. I'll see you later.
Thanks for the champagne.
Sorry. I need to fix that.
30 metres of EPS conduit? Broadband sensor matrix? Tactical data module?
I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I can't spare these parts.
- They're just lying around cargo bay 2. - They're emergency supplies.
What if I just replicated some?
That takes energy which isn't exactly in abundance at the moment.
- Maybe in a few weeks. - A few weeks?
What am I supposed to do until then?
Your duties, which you've been neglecting.
You've been late for two shifts in sickbay.
Maybe it's time you gave this project a rest.
Yeah. You're right. I guess I have been overdoing it.
You look run down. Maybe you should have the Doctor look at you.
I'm fine. I just haven't been getting enough sleep.
Your next shift isn't till 0700. Do yourself a favour and turn in early.
Yeah. Good idea.
One more thing. I'd appreciate it if you'd shave and get back into your uniform.
- We do have protocols. - Yes, sir.
We'll get your Alice flying. Just give it some time.
Sorry, we'll have to put the test flight on hold.
Chakotay thinks Voyager would grind to a halt without those spare parts.
- But we're so close. - Well, he gave me a direct order.
Since when do you care so much about orders?
- You want me busted down to cadet? - Don't take that off.
I'm afraid I have to get back into uniform. Protocol.
Forget about protocol. Once my repairs are complete, we can go somewhere.
Leave Voyager?
It's been a long time since I met a pilot I'm compatible with.
We can go anywhere you want.
It's very tempting, Alice, but I can't just take off.
- What's holding you back? - My job for one thing.
My friends. B'Elanna.
She doesn't understand you the way I do.
None of them do.
Maybe we can make the test flight in a few weeks.
If it goes well, we'll get a mission together. But I can't leave Voyager.
All right.
I'm sure you know what's best for us.
Yeah, I think I do.
You look a little tired.
How about some rest?
Sit back. Relax.
Let me help you with this.
- What are these? - Modifications I made to your flight suit.
They'll help us work together more closely.
I'll show you. Activate the interface.
Just for a minute.
You won't regret it.
What do you say we continue with those repairs?
- How's it coming? - This is the last power cell.
Then we'll just need the data module from section beta 12.
- What's wrong? - These relays are just tricky. That's all.
You're not being honest. I thought we agreed to tell each other everything.
It's just... we're compromising vital systems.
- Backup systems. - In an emergency, Voyager needs them.
If your friends had listened, we wouldn't be sneaking around.
I've spent the last six years with these people.
- They're like my family. - Sometimes you have to leave family.
They're not like us. They're trapped by rules and regulations.
Velocity, freedom.
They'll never understand these things the way we do.
- Maybe you're right. - Of course I am.
You don't belong here.
You belong with me.
You're thinking about your first flight, aren't you?
Tell me.
Dad took me up in an old S-Class shuttle.
Two seats, no warp drive. Manual helm controls.
I was eight years old and I was scared out of my wits.
- You couldn't keep the ship level. - No, not at first.
But then came this moment of clarity, when suddenly everything made sense.
- The clouds parted. - I was flying.
No matter how many starships I've flown since, I'm still chasing that feeling.
Tomorrow, you'll catch it.
Only this time there won't be any clumsy controls to get in the way.
Just you, me and the stars.
Hey.
I wasn't aware you were assigned to astrometrics.
I was just passing by. I guess curiosity got the best of me.
Are you planning an away mission? You were charting a course.
That. No, I was just taking a peek at what's ahead of us.
- All yours. - You've modified your garment.
Adapted, actually. I made a few tweaks to enhance Alice's neurogenic interface.
You know, the merging of man and machine.
Perhaps you should learn about this interface before you use it.
Convince her it's safe.
I ran diagnostics of every system on board that ship.
- There's nothing to worry about. - I should examine it.
Make an excuse and leave.
It's nice of you to offer, but it's really not necessary.
I have to get back to work.
Power fluctuations down to 4.7%. Abaddon's regulators might work.
Keep at it. We don't want a temperamental power supply.
- Bad day at the office? - Bad night with Tom Paris.
- You're his best friend. - So he tells me.
Can you explain why, when he finds a new hobby, I go out of the airlock?
I wouldn't take it personally. The Ferengi call it the five stages of acquisition -
infatuation, justification, appropriation, obsession and resale.
He's got one stage left before he forgets that ship and he's all yours again.
Until the next infatuation.
We've got a 0.003 drop in the warp field output.
- That's within parameters. - Not on my watch.
Somebody's removed four power cells from the secondary warp assembly -
without authorisation.
They tried to cover their tracks by rerouting power. Shall we tell Tuvok?
Don't bother. This is an open and shut case.
Tom Paris!
Well, Alice. Looks like you've been borrowing my things without permission.
Hey!
- Computer, open the hatch. - Unable to comply.
Warning. Life support failure.
Torres to the bridge.
Torres to Chakotay.
Anybody.
B'Elanna!
- What are you doing here? - Let me out of here.
- What the hell happened? - Your ship tried to kill me.
- Ridiculous. - It sealed the hatch.
- You accidentally hit the controls. - This wasn't an accident.
- What else could it have been? - Pilot error.
Are you saying this was my fault?
What's gotten into you? You've been stealing components.
- I found the power cells. - Spare parts. You're overreacting.
- Am I? - Where are you going?
To the captain. There is something wrong with you.
- Listen to me! Stay out of this! - Are you out of your mind?
Or what? You'll stick Alice on me again?
Let her go.
What were you thinking? You could have killed her.
She broke into my database. She was going to discover our flight plan.
- Not that it matters now. - What is that supposed to mean?
Keep your voice down.
Once your girlfriend talks to the captain, they'll drag you to sickbay.
One neural scan and they'll know all about us.
- Maybe it's time they did. - Think you can just walk away?
- Watch me. - I guess this is the real Tom Paris.
The first road block and he heads for the exit.
- Get away from me. - I need you.
You should have thought of that before you tried to kill B'Elanna. Sickbay.
Remember how you felt when you first saw me? We were meant to be together.
- I was wrong. - Think how it feels sitting at the helm.
It's over. One way or the other, I'm getting away from you.
I'm sorry you feel that way.
- What are you doing? - Convincing you to do the right thing.
Take us to the shuttlebay. We're leaving.
No.
Please, Tom. I don't want to hurt you.
The shuttlebay, now.
Deck 10. Shuttlebay.
This isn't the first argument you've had about how he spends free time.
This wasn't a lovers' quarrel. He practically assaulted me.
- That doesn't sound like Tom. - It wasn't Tom. It was Alice.
- Now you've lost me. - That's what he's calling this ship.
Ever since he started working on it, he hasn't slept, he's become irritable.
It's not just me. Chakotay and Harry have noticed it.
This new ship. It has some kind of neurogenic interface.
Exactly. It must be having some effect on him.
All right. I'll have the Doctor take a look at him. In the meantime...
We have an unauthorised launch in progress.
- Seal the shuttlebay doors. - Too late. He's out.
- I can't get a transporter lock. - Tractor beam.
- They're trying to tractor us. - Stop them.
You'll be able to manoeuvre better if you complete the interface.
- How? - Activate the connector sequence.
We're one now. Think of what you want me to do and I'll do it.
We can disrupt their tractor beam.
- With an optronic pulse. - Good.
You have access to our weapons. Use them.
- He's charging weapons. - Full power to the shields.
- He's disrupting our tractor beam. - We'll drag him in by his heels.
He's broken free, Captain.
Janeway to Paris, stand down and return to Voyager.
I'm with Alice now. Let us go.
- You know I can't do that. - She'll do anything to get you back.
- I don't blame her, but we must stop her. - How?
You know.
- He's coming about. - He's charging weapons again.
- Direct hit. - Return fire.
- He's gone to warp. - Track him.
He masked his warp signature. He's gone.
Daedalus fashioned wings from wax and feathers
and used them to escape his prison.
- That's one of my favourite myths. - I know.
You left out the part where Icarus flies too close to the sun and his wings melt.
Poetic license.
Besides, if we get too close to a star, we have multiphasic shielding.
What is it?
My arms. They feel numb.
Who needs arms when you have wings? You're part of me now.
Our potential is unlimited. Forget the old Tom Paris. He doesn't exist any more.
- You know my policy. - We're just looking for information.
I don't keep that in stock. I suggest you look elsewhere.
- Not until we get some answers. - I can deal with disgruntled customers.
I read active weapons signatures on three derelict ships.
They are targeting Voyager.
Before we do something we'll regret,
Mr Neelix has something to show you.
I wanted to say thank you for this lost treasure.
A beryllium crystal.
I'm surprised a trader of your distinction would let this slip through his fingers.
I could say all trades are final, but we'd be willing to give it back
in exchange for some cooperation.
- Haunted? - That's what the Haakonian told me.
I blamed his story on isolation sickness, and then took the ship off his hands.
- Did you notice anything odd? - Odd? You could say that.
I tried to turn her into a towing vessel. She was cooperative at first, but then...
I hope you haven't forgotten me.
- Mr Abaddon? - Where was I?
- Constant repairs. - Right.
Please. I wasn't going to tell them anything.
- Who were you speaking to? - No one. I have to leave now.
I'll return the items you traded. Leave me alone.
I found you a pilot.
- What are you seeing? - It's her, in front of me.
- There's no one there. - Transport me back, now.
Janeway to sickbay. Medical emergency.
He suffered a cerebral haemorrhage. I repaired the damage in time.
- What caused it? - His neural pathways were restructured.
I detected a neurogenic signature.
Looks like Alice got to him, too. Wake him.
She was here.
The woman was a hallucination created by the derelict ship's interface.
She won't be bothering you any more.
Tell me. What does this ship want with our crewman?
She can't fly herself. She needs a pilot to work in tandem with her programming.
Why didn't she just recruit you?
I wasn't compatible. She said my reflexes were too slow,
that I was as useless as the junk that I traded
and that I couldn't get her to where she needed to go.
She never told me the coordinates. She just insisted I get her a real pilot.
I'm sorry I didn't warn you before.
I couldn't resist her.
Seven of Nine to Janeway, please report to astrometrics.
I've managed to reconstruct the data Paris was working on.
- It is a course trajectory. - Let's see it.
- It terminates in spatial grid 867. - Looks uninhabited.
It's empty space, with the exception of a small anomaly.
A particle fountain.
The Federation lost a dozen ships examining one in the Alpha Quadrant.
Relay the coordinates to the bridge.
Take us out of warp.
- Can you see it now? - Yes.
What is it?
Home.
- Distance? - 6 million kilometres.
Decrease speed. Full power to shields.
I'm detecting a vessel off our starboard bow.
- Tom's headed for the anomaly. - Can you get a transporter lock?
Not with those multiphasic shields.
- Are we in hailing range? - Opening a channel. He's responding.
- Keep your distance or we open fire. - Listen to me.
The neurogenic interface is affecting your judgement. Drop your shields.
Ignore them. Keep going.
- He's not responding. - Target propulsion systems. Fire.
Direct hit. The vessel's shields are holding.
Doctor to bridge, cease fire. Paris' neural readings fluctuating.
His synaptic functions are linked to the ship. We could injure him severely.
Acknowledged. Tuvok, stand down.
Ten minutes till he reaches the fountain.
Can we disable shields without firing?
If I could access their computer and transmit a shutdown sequence...
Tom and Alice would detect it.
Unless we can distract them. Bridge to the Doctor.
Any progress on your analysis of the interface?
Not yet.
Could you tap into it using a com signal?
Yes, but what would it accomplish?
You've got five minutes. Tell B'Elanna to prepare for an away mission.
Captain?
- Four minutes away. - Bridge to sickbay, status?
I'm making the final adjustments.
- I'm not sure I want to go in Tom's head. - Maybe you can explain a few things.
I knew you were the one. No one's ever got me this close before.
- I'll have you home in a few minutes. - I promise you won't be disappointed.
Don't believe her.
- Where's Alice? - There is no Alice.
She's a pile of circuits in the computer. You're letting a program delude you.
Doctor to bridge, she's in.
- Now. - Accessing their main computer.
You don't understand. This is what I've always dreamed of.
When you wake up, you're in for a big surprise.
- Alice needs me. - So do I.
Nice sentiment, but it's a lie. Don't listen to your family.
It's me, B'Elanna. Alice is an illusion.
I'm giving you what you always wanted. Does that sound like an illusion?
I can't think. Leave me alone. Both of you.
They're trying to disable my shields. Stop them.
Focus on me. Listen to me.
- Shields are failing. Do something. - It's time to come home.
- Tom. - No!
Hang on. We're going to get you out of here.
- Tom... - No!
- I've got it. Their shields are down. - Beam him to sickbay.
- There's too much interference. - I'm boosting the confinement beam.
Try it now.
We've got him.
Alice is losing helm control.
Resume course to the Alpha Quadrant.
You'll need a few days to fully recover. Can you stay off your feet that long?
- If he doesn't, I'll break his legs. - I'll leave you to her tender mercies.
I've got something for you.
It's a get well card from Naomi Wildman. It's a good likeness of you.
I don't think she quite captured my eyes.
I'm sorry.
For everything.
It wasn't your fault.
But I remember all of it.
Everything I said, everything I did.
It was like I was sleepwalking.
The important thing is you woke up.
Thanks for being my alarm clock.
Any time.
From now on, I promise no more affairs with strange ships.
What about the Delta Flyer?
We're just friends.