All language subtitles for Star.Trek_.Picard.S03E06.WEB_.x264-TG

Obtain and
deliver the asset.

All else is expendable.

I will pursue.

Tell me, Jack.

How did you know they
were all Changelings?

I didn't.

This Changeling's been
able to completely replicate

internal human organs.

Which means they
could be anyone,

and we would never know.

Starfleet is compromised

at the highest level.

I have a pair of intelligence
assets on the ground

that I trust, and
they have been busy

gathering evidence
connecting the portal weapon

to something else that
the Changelings want.

The key to this
entire conspiracy

could be inside Daystrom.

Talk now.

Daystrom Station is

guarded by a highly
sophisticated AI system.

But it has flaws.

I brokered for a device
that exploits them.

And you'll give us that device.

- Ro, are you all right?
- They know.

Jean-Luc, you need to
take the ship and run.

It's up to you now. You
finish what I started.

She's heading
for the Intrepid'sport nacelle.

- We're being ordered to surrender.
- Surrender? Why?

We're being framed
by the Changelings

masquerading as officers
aboard that ship.

Battle stations!

Starfleet has been compromised.

They're coming for us.

But who, exactly?

Everyone.

Where are they?!

Where arethey?

The next ill-defined,
unshapen one of you

that tells me they've
yet to locate Picard...

Mm-mm-mm!

And how exhausted they must be.

As am I, dear.

As are we.

As are our brothers and sisters

who suffer each day

having to wear the
faces of the Federation.

But there will be rest.

There will be a day
of lifeless bodies

burning in space.

Oh, there will be silence again.

Unity again.

Peace again.

But first...

we will have vengeance.

Enough.

Now...

I want the names and locations

of every known associate
of Jean-Luc Picard.

All Starfleet colleagues,
past and present.

Every friend to
whom he might turn.

Every loved one in which
he might seek comfort.

We will scorch the earth
under which he stands,

and the night will brighten

with the ashes of
the Federation.

And from them...

we will rise.

Jack has been having visions,

waking nightmares, erratic
bursts of aggression.

Once he confided in me, I
did a micro-neural scan,

and this was the result.

You're certain?

The portions of the brain
related to cognition,

imagination... all affected.

According to this, Jack
has Irumodic Syndrome.

Inherited from me.

He had nightmares
when he was a boy.

Vivid dreams.

Talked with imaginary things.

I thought he was gifted,

not plagued with an
overclocked brain.

I've given him some medication
to temper the hallucinations...

A neuro-inhibitor.

He's...

all right for now.

It might be decades before
this catches up with him.

Beverly...

Please don't spend
time burdening yourself

when you can unburden him.

Done.

Another one, please, landlord.

Oh. One for my
old man, as well.

We're celebrating.

- Celebrating?
- Mm.

Turns out I'm not crazy.

No. I'm just broken.

And the way I see it, I can
either wallow in self-pity,

or I can be like those
Japanese teacups,

which get put back
together with melted gold.

Or in my case, bourbon.

I think you should
take this seriously.

Oh, I'm being deadly serious.

Quite possibly dead.

Hey, Van Gogh did incredible
things with an enflamed brain,

- so leave me the bottle and a few spare ears.
- Jack...

How did you survive it?

I didn't.

Right. The positronics.

A new fully synth
prototype body.

I don't suppose
you've got another one

in my size, have you?

I lived with Irumodic
Syndrome for decades.

Fate has a way of surprising us.

And you're young, Jack.

If only you were as good
at passing on genetics

as you are wisdom.

For so long, my mother thought
to protect me from you.

To shield me from
being collateral damage

in the life of Jean-Luc Picard.

Irony is...

maybe I was doomed
before I was even born.

Commander Hansen to Admiral Picard.

Go ahead.

They're here.

Admiral. Permission
to come aboard.

Granted, Mr. Worf.

It's been far too long.

Eleven years, five
months, four days.

Minus your infrequent messages

and the annual
bottle of sour mead.

Sour Mead?

Chateau Picard.

It is quite tart, sir.

Mmm.

Come on, you know
he's not a hugger.

Oh, I know.

But it is just so
good to see you.

- Thank you, Doctor.
- Jean-Luc,

you're never gonna
believe this, but, uh,

this Klingon, he's
been meditating.

The most
advantageous battle stance

- is being one within oneself.
- Whoa.

- Seriously?
- I just said it.

Hey, you. You all right?

Well, we're alive, if
that's what you mean.

Well, we had a hell of
a time finding you guys.

It gave us extra time
to process the news

that you and
Dr. Crusher are parents.

- It would seem so.
- Admiral,

we must ensure that
Ro Laren's death

was not in vain,

to protect both
Starfleet and her kin.

We have much to report.

It appears
our old enemy,

the Changelings, have
re-emerged from the wake

of the Dominion War.

During the war, they
attacked the Federation

with deception and might,

and we retaliated with
a Starfleet-made virus.

There are scars and
shame on both sides.

Starfleet did, however,
deliver the cure

to the Changeling home
world, to the Great Link.

Not without weaponizing a
few zealots in the process.

Ro believed that
whatever they're planning,

it's somehow tied to
Starfleet's Frontier Day.

No better stage on which
to make a statement.

- In less than 48 hours.
- We're running out of time.

- We have no leads.
- Which is why we must return to the beginning.

To the scene of the
crime: Daystrom Station.

Home to Starfleet's
most off-the-books tech.

Experimental weapons,
alien contraband.

A few months ago, Vadic stole a
handful of classified weapons...

namely, the portal
device you encountered.

Its use at the
recruitment center,

we believe, was
merely a distraction.

To conceal what?

The theft of something else?

Steal the diamonds so
nobody checks on the pearls.

It's obvious. They stole a
weapon ten times more deadly.

So we're looking
for a smoking gun

that no longer exists.

Then we just follow the smoke.

The only way to identify
and retrieve this weapon

is by getting ahold of
Daystrom's project manifest,

its inventory.

Which is heavily
redacted in the files

that Ro was able to gather.

Exactly. But the raw data
should be on a computer

in the station's primary vault.

So we burgle the very
institution hunting us.

Excellent use of the
word "burgle," Admiral.

Since the break-in,

the station has been
mostly unoccupied.

It is patrolled by Starfleet
security every hour,

but the vault itself
is protected by

an astonishingly
lethal AI system.

One that thinks, that adapts.

Fortunately, we
have acquired a key

that should temporarily
disable the system.

Unfortunately, if
this key fails...

Well, instead of
finding one weapon,

we'll be on the
wrong end of many.

Ro believed
this missing weapon

to be central to the entire
Changeling conspiracy.

This is the only way that
we can clear our names

and save Starfleet.

So...

any volunteers?

Uh, it's good to see...

Oh, it's great to be seen.

I have gone into battle
with lovers countless times.

- It can be therapeutic...
- I'm not going.

That is a relief. I
was practicing deceit.

Breakups on my homeworld
seldom end without bloodshed.

Okay. Ready.

We warped close enough
to beam you inside

without alerting Starfleet.

Ro's intel had a workaround

for the transport inhibitors.

But we'll have to
get you in and out

before the manual
security patrol.

How much time will we have
to find the weapons manifest?

An hour at best.

Oof.

I hope this key works.

Otherwise we're going to
have to resort to some

old-fashioned Klingon offense.

Captain Riker...

Worf, call me Will. Come on.

You should know that
I now prefer pacifism

to actual combat.

Energize.

We're all gonna die.

Welcome,
Daystrom visitors.

Please identify.

Worf, the key.

- Welcome, Daystrom visitors.
- We've got about seconds before that thing

- stops asking nicely.
- Please identify.

Welcome, Daystrom visitors.

- Please identify.
- Mm-hmm.

Daystrom visitors,

please identify
yourselves immediately

or lethal security
protocols will engage.

Thank you. Thank you.
Have a wonderful day.

And please, no food or beverags

in the research area.

- - They found us.
- How?

We dropped our transponders,
didn't trip the alarm.

Red alert. Beam our
people out of there.

I can't get a lock on
their transport signals.

Those ships just activated
transport inhibitors.

Starfleet vessels
are locking on.

Targeting phasers.

Those are Eschelon-class,
mid-model starships

with a traceable payload.

One hit, if it doesn't kill us,

we'll be able to track

the residual ionic
energy as we flee.

Spoken like a true La Forge.

We need to run
before they realize

who's in Daystrom.

Short of
being invisible,

we can't come back.

Not until they're
unable to track us.

Will, listen.

We've got company up
here. We can't get to you.

But I've had an idea.

La Forge, set a new
course for Athan Prime.

Uh, I don't think
that's a good idea.

Starfleet security will
be patrolling this area

in less than an hour.

And we'll be back before
then, Mr. Worf, I promise.

- Weapons lock achieved.
- Captain, we need to go.

La Forge, get us out
of here, maximum warp.

Admiral?

Captain?

We're on our own.

What, exactly, are
they storing here?

Many of Section
31's most nefarious

- table scraps, it would seem.
- Section 31?

Critical division of
Starfleet Intelligence.

Yeah, I know who they are.

I just didn't know this is where

they were hiding
all the good stuff.

A mighty Klingon taken
aback by the even mightier

attack Tribble.

I see you still find
comfort in humor.

And humor in other
people's discomfort.

You used to poke back.
What happened to you?

All right, all right,
just, gentlemen...

let's just retrieve
the manifest,

figure out whatever
weapon was stolen

and get the hell out
of here... alive.

It's only a matter of time
until security sweeps through

and finds us.

What exactly are we looking for?

We're looking for some
kind of access panel

or security terminal to
the mainframe computer.

What is that?

A holographic crow?

Let us
continue our search.

But tread lightly.

We will not be
prey. We will be...

friendly energy.

I don't understand
the world anymore.

There's something
familiar about the crow.

Yeah, right?
Like from my nightmares.

I believe this is the mainframe.

What was that?

F-sharp, I think.

I think, therefore I am.

Professor Moriarty.

Greetings...

old friends.

We have arrived
at Athan Prime, Captain.

I've been here
before. This is...

The Fleet Museum.

Every
legendary starship.

This is their final
resting place.

The old space dock.

Helm, find a pocket
among the relics.

Let's be a needle
in the haystack.

We're being hailed.

- Good.
- Respectfully, sir, I'm not sure...

On screen.

Geordi!

Listen to me very
carefully, Jean-Luc.

Power down all of your
ship's nonessential systems

immediately.

Geordi, we need your help.

- Commodore La Forge.
- Geordi.

I must admit. In the
nanosecond my body

de- and then reconstructed,

I debated the virtues of a
curt professional handshake,

or an uncomfortable

but long-overdue hug.

And which way will it go?

Admiral.

Sidney.

Sir.

Geordi, allow me to introduce...

Jean-Luc, we don't
have a lot of time.

I'm in the middle of my
third memo to Starfleet

objecting to gathering
the entire fleet

in one location
for Frontier Day.

Not to mention the
hundreds if not thousands

that pass by daily
to view these ships.

Now, sooner or later,
somebody is going to notice

the one that doesn't belong.

You and I need to find
a place to talk, now.

Hey, Sis.

- He's impossible.
- I'll do what I can.

Alandra!

Well, that was warm
and cuddly, wasn't it?

My father and I haven't been
on the best of terms lately.

Sounds like something
we've got in common.

That young
man is your son?

Leave it
to you, Jean-Luc,

to turn fatherhood into
an intergalactic incident.

I've told you, we haven't just
been running from Starfleet,

but from Changelings also.

- Worf and Riker...
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

You roped them into this, too?

They're trapped inside
Daystrom Station

at this very moment, with
Starfleet circling the water.

You want me to help break
them out of the Federation's

most classified facility?

Which, I'm assuming
for the record,

they broke into?

Look, if you could just clone

our ship's transponder signal,

we could make Starfleet believe

we'd absconded somewhere else.

And lure them away
from Daystrom Station.

First of all, even
if I was willing,

I can't clone transponders
without randomized

Starfleet security codes.

And second... Tell him, Alandra.

Well, despite my
father's many objections,

every ship in this fleet
is now fully integrated,

which means they
talk to each other.

So, you can drop transponder
signals all you want,

but the Titanis a beacon.

It's only a matter of time
before it gets close enough

to alert the other ships.

So that's
how they found us.

Sternbach to Cole.

No sign of them in Structure C.

Heading to Deck A to
continue our sweep.

Copy that, Sternbach.

Teams moving to Structure B now.

Can someone explain why
a 19th-century holo-villain

is guarding a
25th-century black site?

Oh, my dear,

"villain" doesn't do
justice to my complexity,

and only reveals
your simplicity.

Hmm. At least
somebody's consistent.

Go. Go!

This is not the same
self-aware Moriarty

we encountered on
the Enterprise.

More of a holograph,
perhaps a projection.

Security vault's through
there. He's firing live rounds.

If we don't get that damn
door open, we are dead.

B-Flat. D-Flat.

What solvable
puzzles you all are.

You unguarded expressions,

your visible scars.

My, how time has
spun you all apart.

Such pathetic old warriors.

C-Sharp. A-Flat.

Are you trying to
play a song for us?

- Some sort of a tune?
- Yes.

Yes, a maddening melody.

A saccharine song.

One that I cannot
get out of my head.

Marvelous.

How did you know it would work?

I shared that tune decades ago

with another dear friend.

One who dreamt of crows,

and aspired to thwart Moriarty
with the intellect of Holmes.

Somebody who couldn't
whistle worth a damn.

Marvelous.

I want to
help you, Jean-Luc.

You, Will, Worf, Beverly.

The best-case scenario,
I'll be court-martialed.

Worst-case, a
compromised Starfleet

will come after my
family. You know that.

- And when that happens...
- Dad.

What about Hangar Bay 12?

- Alandra, please.
- Geordi,

this is life-or-death.

It's always
life-or-death, Jean-Luc.

When has it not been?

Which was fine,
back in the day when

I chose to put my
life on the line

under your command.

But... you've just knowingly

put my daughter in grave danger.

Geordi, I did nothing of the kind.

Sidney joined Starfleet...

Any luck?

I'm so sorry about this.

You know how stubborn he is.

- Off.
- Mm...

I'm just trying it out.

Ooh.

Let me see.

That one is the Defiant.

Mm, that's the New Jersey.

Oh, wow.

Well, this one is my
personal favorite.

Kirk's Enterprise.

All those perfectly
clean retro lines.

Yep, I'm definitely a
Constitution-class man.

That's a fair amount
of history for somebody

who doesn't give a
damn about Starfleet.

Oh, no, I've always
loved a starship.

Well before I knew
anything about my old man.

Oh.

Oh, she's a beauty.

Which one's that?

The USS Voyager.

She made her name
farther out than...

any of those other
relics had ever gone.

I was reborn there.

She was my home.

Her crew were my family.

And now...

You're just trying
to find another.

We all long for connection.

But we're just a little
bit alone, aren't we?

Stars in the same galaxy,

but light-years between us.

Oh, you are definitely
your father's son.

He, too, has a
knack for the, um,

poetic drive-by observation.

Can be very annoying.

But it can also make
a person feel seen.

Yeah, well, I can't
say being equal parts

irritating and endearing
isn't entirely unfamiliar.

Ah. What's that
one? Is that a...

Is that a Klingon Bird-of-Prey?

The HMS Bounty,

pulled from the bottom
of the San Francisco Bay.

Yeah, right. The
whole whale thing.

Story goes they had a
hell of a time finding it.

It disappeared.

Because the cloaking
device had reactivated.

He wasn't trying to hurt us.

He was trying to communicate.

He was reaching out to
us. He recognized us.

I thought Data died. Twice.

He did.

- This cannot be our Data.
- He appears to be

some kind of hybrid...

Synthetic with
android interface.

But it could be him.

Data copied everything
he was onto B-4.

His memory,
personality. His mind.

And up to now it's
been unrecoverable.

But since the ban on
synths has been lifted,

nothing's impossible.

Looks like
after Soong passed,

Starfleet co-opted most
of his unfinished work.

Hmm. They took a keen interest
in your sentient AI friend here.

Hold on.

What's that?

Altan Soong.

Before I gifted
Picard my golem...

my intention was to
live beyond my years.

To become my own legacy.

Now I see, in my final days,

that wasn't just poor humanity,

it was poor science.

Because evolution is not

an act of preservation.

It's addition.

Sidney, she
was the hard one.

Just... stubborn.

In truth, she probably
got it from me.

You always want to impart

the best aspects of
yourself to them.

I've recently been reminded that

we are not in control
of what we pass on.

Strengths, wisdom, talent,

and also flaws.

Weaknesses.

Sins of our past.

Into this
new golem will go

a bit of Lal, B-4...

of Lore.

And, of course,

a great deal of Data..

This time with the wisdom

and true human aesthetic of age.

With the hope that in totality,

something... someone...

Will rise to be the best of us.

It appears Altan Soong died

before he was able to
complete the project.

The integration effort failed.

All the personalities remain
at odds inside this vessel.

I think back on
those days on the Enterprise,

all the danger we rushed into.

I never feared for my life.

Not the way I fear for hers.

Jean-Luc, I want to help you.

But I can't help you

and protect them.

I'm sorry.

I really am.

We're leaving.

Your father can't help us,

and I must respect his wishes.

However, he wants
to speak with you.

Why won't you help us?

Sidney, sit down.

Now, Jean-Luc and I have
come to an agreement.

You are going to stay here
at the museum with me,

and he is willing
to say that you were

- an unwilling participant.
- But it's not true.

Sid, this is the
way it has to be.

The galaxy is at
stake here, Dad.

I've seen a corpse that
looked just like me.

I know what these
Changelings are capable of.

- We need to leave that to Starfleet.
- I am Starfleet!

I need you to be
thinking about us.

I grew up listening
to your adventures.

All the times you and Picard
stood up for what was right.

- It was a different time.
- No!

It is you and I
that are different.

I'm not Alandra.

I'm not an engineer like you.

You built amazing
things, but me,

I just wanted to fly them.

You took that as
me rejecting you,

but I always thought it
brought us closer together.

You would believe in this
if you believed in me.

Sidney!

Have you any idea how we felt

when this ship
went missing? Hmm?

Now you're out here on the run,

jeopardizing your
future, your entire life.

- I'm on the run with my crew.
- They're not your family.

Yes, they are. You
taught me that.

And I'm not scared to
step up and help them.

You are.

We're
almost out of time.

We should return to Daystrom.

Perhaps our only recourse

is to take on those
ships ourselves.

Battle stations?

Sadly, I believe so.

We should find Shaw
and strategize.

So, you staying or going?

- Staying.
- Brilliant.

Oh, just to be clear, I
caused quite a lot of this.

And your sister, on
more than one occasion,

has flown us out
of the mess I made.

Rather wonderfully, I might add.

Okay, let's reset our phasers.

All of which is a
preamble to me asking

two very simple
questions. One...

how well do you
know this museum?

Two... what's your temperance

for some, shall we say...

minor larceny?

So Starfleet installed

an insane AI to defend
its deepest secrets?

They used him because he's
a one-of-a-kind work of art.

Certainly more brilliant than

anything else they
can come up with.

You know, he glitched
when he saw us.

He recognized us, which means...

He sees everything
that comes in and out.

He is not protecting
the manifest,

he isthe manifest.

I can see the files.

Data should be able to tell us
exactly what the Changelings

stole from Daystrom.

- Daystrom intruders...
- Security.

You have violated
Starfleet Command

directives 21 through 39...

We have officially
run out of time.

We have to leave now.

Riker to Picard. Are
you there? Jean-Luc,

do you read me?

He does not.

Mr. La Forge,

uh, as a former engineer,
I just wanted to say

what a, what an honor it
is to have you on board.

Captain, your hull
is battered, bruised,

and basically paper-thin.

You're spewing
fumes through layers

of 21st-century duct tape.

Yeah, it's been a weird week.

Which is why, under
better circumstances,

I would gladly geek
out with you over

the marvel of maintenance
and engineering

that this ship is.

Thank you. Thank you, um,

Bridge to Transport.
See that the La Forges

get home safe.

Captain, we're reading massive
bursts of EM radiation.

What the hell have
you done, Jean-Luc?

Geordi, I assure you...

- Admiral, we're now cloaked.
- Cloaked?

You stole the
goddamn cloaking device

from my Bird-of-Prey?

Geordi, I would
never deceive you,

and I would never steal from...

- Jack.
- Sidney.

We're phasing in and out.
It's not installed correctly.

I think we either need to
oscillate the power resonators

- or adjust the reflective index.
- Oh, is that all?

But if we do either of
those things incorrectly

or in the wrong order, it
will create a power feedback

that will cripple
the ship entirely.

Removing the device tripped
an automatic security alarm.

Starfleet is on their way.

Have you any idea, Jean-Luc,
how many Federation treaties

this violates?

Well, I guess they'll just

have to add it to my tab.

We need you.

She needs you.

It's probably not
supposed to do that.

Inducers overheating. I
don't know how to stop

- the chain reaction.
- But I do.

And you... Stay away
from my daughter.

Dad?

We're gonna have to
do this on the fly.

Alandra, get to a
long-range comms terminal.

Tell Mom we're not gonna
be home for dinner.

Come on, kid, make
yourself useful.

Incoming
transmission from Picard.

Admiral.

We're on
our way, Mr. Worf.

We're going to cloak
near the station

to avoid Starfleet detection.

- You have 90 seconds.
- Cloak with what?

Superior
Klingon technology.

We're taking Data with us.

Pulling him offline
will disable security.

Starfleet will pour
in, phasers blazing.

He is correct. We
cannot leave him behind.

The information
that is within him

is key to what's going on here.

The Changelings, what they
stole, what they want.

Tell the Titanto lock on to
an extra set of coordinates.

They have no
idea we're here.

If I'm correct, we'll
have to de-cloak

in order to beam them up.

Get ready to lock on
to transporter signals.

Pulling him out
now. 30 seconds.

Titan, four to beam up.

Oh, no. We got incoming.
We're not gonna make it.

Yes, you are.

Get our friend out of here.

I got this.

No. Captain!

We're exposed.

Starfleet ships turning to fire.

Evasive maneuvers.

Transporter room,

lock on to the away team.

Just a few more
seconds. There. Data's free.

We've lost one transport
signal, but I'm reading another.

You bring over whoever
you've got now.

Worf.

Commodore.

What happened? Where's Riker?

He was captured.
Transport inhibitors.

He saved us.

We may have lost one
friend in battle,

but we have gained another.

Data.

I will find him, Admiral.

I will bring William Riker home.

And fearful be the
god or man or beast

that stands in my way.

I believe you, Mr. Worf.

Thank you.

I'm sorry about Riker.

Look, I can be a lot of things.

Mostly the prick at the bar who
says things he can't take back.

Maybe... a bit cocky.

A bit?

However...

I think I have some
virtues as well.

I'm mostly caring.

Often tenacious, principled.

I hope.

And occasionally clever.

All of those things,
I get from my mother.

But I can also be brave, loyal,

and far wiser than I
have any right to be.

Until a week ago...

I didn't know where
those traits came from.

Maybe you didn't just give
me some bullshit disease.

Maybe...

you gave me some of
the good bits as well.

Maybe.

I'm not mad at
you for what you did.

I'm disappointed in myself

for not doing what my
younger self would have done.

I'm proud of you, Sidney.

Very proud.

Now, hand me that ionic
flow regulator, will you?

Mm-mm. You need the
focal adjustment spanner.

For the main port.

Right. But...

Why do you think I crashed
so many speeders as a kid?

So I could spend time
with you fixing them.

This is hard.

I've watched Data die twice now.

Data the android.

But this is Data...

something else.

In some kind of miraculous,

almost human positronic body.

Best I can tell, the
different personalities

have yet to be integrated.

I mean, but the
information is all there.

Can he tell us what Vadic
stole from Daystrom?

Assuming he's sane enough
to speak, I believe so.

I can reboot, but
I can't completely

isolate Data, even with
the personality partitions

in place, so...

we just don't know what
we're going to get.

Geordi?

Captain?

Yes.

Data, is that you?

Yes, sir. No, sir.

I...

I am not certain.

- He's like you, Jean-Luc.
- I am Data.

- Synthetic...
- No...

- but...
- I wasData.

Human.

There are many of myself
inside Daystrom Android M-5-10,

but, currently,

one voice speaks to you more...

more fondly than the others.

The evening of the robbery,

something was taken.

Something more deadly

than a portal weapon.

We believe that you
witnessed that event.

Can you confirm?

Can I confirm? Can I con...

- Is he malfunctioning?
- I don't know.

Memory records indicate
what appears to be

the Changelings' main objective.

Go on.

The project manifest
lists the missing item.

Data, can you tell
us what was stolen?

Jean-Luc Picard.

Yes, Data, I'm here.

I repeat, can you tell
us what was stolen?

Jean-Luc Picard.
Jean-Luc Picard.

Manifest inquiry.

- Jean-Luc Picard.
- Is there a reset switch?

I'm Lore.

I am B-4.

I am Soong.

No, I am more.

Data, it is vital that
you tell us what was taken

from the lab.

What is this?

It is what the Changelings
stole from Daystrom.

Human remains.

Jean-Luc Picard.

You will tell us the location
of Picard and the Crusher boy.

Like hell I will.

Mm.

Hi.

Oh, look at this one.

How much of that goo shit
did they pour into you?

You really think after
35 years of loyalty

that I'm gonna betray
my friends for you?

No, Captain Riker, not for me.

Oh, Will.

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