All language subtitles for Star.Trek.Strange.New.Worlds.S03E09.1080p.10bit.WEBRip.6CH.x265.HEVC-PSA

♪ ♪

Previously on Star Trek:
Strange New Worlds...

- (Gorn screeches)
- (Ortegas groans)

(roars)

LA'AN: Are we gonna
discuss Lieutenant Ortegas?

She passed her psych eval.

Could it be she's back
on rotation too soon?

UNA: Your maneuver endangered

everyone on the ship
unnecessarily.

I'm sorry about what happened
to you, Erica.

But I can't have it
affect your judgment.

ORTEGAS: Out here, I get
to prove what I'm made of.

Nothing could touch me until
it did, and now there are days

when I'm as scared
as I was then.

(Gorn roars)

ORTEGAS:
Personal log. Stardate 2198.7.

Enterprise is investigating

a peculiar area
of uncharted space.

Like stories told
by old Earth sailors,

this region is legendary for
its tales of strange phenomena.

Ghost stories at sea.

(exhales)

(sighs)

(whispers): Hermanito.

Fine.

What we've found
is a parsec of space

with gravity waves so odd,
even Spock can't figure it out.

UHURA: Sensors are coming
back with conflicting data.

Our probes are being pushed
around the area

like beach balls.

ORTEGAS:
Like I said, the only way

to get answers
is to send in a shuttle

with an expert pilot
riding the manual controls.

Be mindful,
I have never seen this level

of gravimetric volatility
without a discernible source.

You're just making it sound
more fun.

You're sure about this?

Dr. M'Benga cleared me for
solo missions. I am good to go.

I have endeavored to create
a predictive map focused

on a particular area
showing the highest level

of gravimetric fluctuation.

This module will augment
the shuttle's sensors

to assist with the collection
of in-flight data.

Got it. Don't worry.

I'm gonna get you so much data,

it'll be coming out your ears.

It's an expression.

You know that, right?

I must admit, I am disappointed

to not be joining you
on this mission.

But monster gravity waves, remember?

We have specifically retrofitted
the shuttle,

stripped out
all nonessential equipment.

Like they say,
every ounce counts.

And you, Mr. Spock,

are too many ounces.

(Uhura chuckles)

I maintain my weight within
a variance of 1.8 kilograms.

Is that not obvious?

Besides, you're needed here
in the science lab,

monitoring the incoming scans.

In a gravity field this dense,
there's potential for data loss.

Comms will be impacted,
so stay in constant contact.

- Roger that.
- Once your survey's complete,

deploy
the subspace monitoring buoy.

SPOCK: Other than a
number of unverified signals,

we know very little
about this region of space.

In other words, Starfleet
is posting a spy satellite

to see
who comes snooping around.

Well, consider me briefed.

Now, here's
another old pilot saying...

let's light this candle.

(chuckles)
Did you see Spock's face?

(chuckles):
I know. I almost feel bad.

He looked like the kid
who was told

he couldn't go
on the roller coaster.

(chuckles)

But if I'm being honest,

the solo mission's a bonus.

Chance to clear my head.

You'll be okay out there
for a couple hours all alone?

Trust me,

flying's my happy place.

I know, so have fun but be safe.

- "Safe" is my middle name.
- Wait.

You told me
"Danger" was your middle name.

- (door whooshes open and shut)
- ORTEGAS: Enterprise,

shuttlecraft Archimedes
lowering blast shields

and exiting shuttle bay.

Okay. Show me...

- what you've got.
- (whirring)

COMPUTER: Sensors
activated for nonvisual control.

Monitor set
for gravitational imaging.

PIKE: Status, Number One?

UNA: Holding at
minimum safe distance.

2.4 million kilometers.

Uhura, how's she doing?

Ortegas reports
five-by-five, sir.

She started her survey run.

ORTEGAS: I'm here, Captain.

This reminds me
of those old stories on Earth

about pilots who flew airplanes
into hurricanes.

I always wondered
what that must've been like.

Now I know.

(whirring)

SPOCK: Science lab to bridge.

Data collection is complete.

I know
you're enjoying yourself, Erica,

but playtime's over.

Deploy the buoy and return home.

A little envious, Captain?

Nah, this chair
suits me just fine.

- (crashing)
- (alarm sounding)

Ortegas to Enterprise.

I've lost helm control.

Something's got me!

Trying to get a visual!

Oh. A wormhole's
just popped up out of nowhere.

- (crashing)
- (Uhura groans)

Red alert.

(alarm sounding)

Where the hell
did that thing come from?

UNA: Sensors must
have missed it somehow.

- Sensors missed a wormhole?
- And it's right

on top of Ortegas's position.

Uhura, contact the shuttle.

Tell Ortegas
to get out of there.

Archimedes, come in.

Erica, come in.

That wormhole's creating
comms interference.

Wait, I've got something.

COMPUTER: Hull integrity 60%.

55%.

- 50%.
- ORTEGAS: Yeah, I get it! I'm turning into the skid.

Captain, she's too close.

Heading right into the eye
of the hurricane.

Come on. You got this.

(choppy): You got this.

You...

Sir.

I've lost contact with Ortegas.

I'm not picking up
her transponder.

There's no sign of the shuttle.

She's gone.

PIKE: Space.

The final frontier.

These are the voyages
of the starship Enterprise.

Its five-year mission:

to explore strange new worlds...

to seek out new life

and new civilizations...

to boldly go
where no one has gone before.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- COMPUTER: Shields 11%.
- ORTEGAS: Nav systems out!

Helm controls dead!

COMPUTER:
Hull integrity nine percent.

ORTEGAS: Engines not responding.

- COMPUTER: Primary systems failing.
- ORTEGAS: Sensors...

are barely functioning.

They're telling me
I'm caught in the gravity well

of a gas giant dead ahead.

Enterprise, this is Archimedes.
Can you read me?

What the hell am I doing?

I'm on the other side
of a freakin' wormhole.

Computer,
do we still have enough power

to deploy the subspace relay?

Affirmative.

Okay. Record this on replay
and broadcast.

Mayday, Mayday.

This is Lieutenant Erica Ortegas

of the Federation starship
Enterprise.

I just got kicked out
of a wormhole.

I don't know where I am,

but I'm going down.

Whoever hears this,

come find me
at these coordinates.

And bring snacks.

(groans)

(grunting)

The rations.

(mutters)

(breathing heavily)

No, no, no, no, no, no.

Damn it.

(sighs)

Personal log. Stardate unknown.

I've crashed...

who knows where?

Sensors are too damaged
to get a fix.

Life support's on batteries.

But I'm alive, so...
(chuckles softly)

that's a win.

(rapid beeping)

Shuttle has seen better days.

(hisses, groans)

I deployed
Starfleet's fancy relay buoy.

Hopefully,
it can transmit my mayday

back through the wormhole.

Ah.

I was just getting
to the good part.

So much for a log.
Doesn't matter.

Just make a list
of what needs fixing.

(groans, chuckles)

Mm.

Oh.

(breathing heavily)

Starting with me.

Starfleet Academy Survival 101.

You're stranded
on an alien planet.

What do you need?

Water.

Food.

Shelter.

Got one.

Need the other two.

(grunting)

You are now a water condenser.

Please condense.

(sighs)

(chirps)

(speaks Spanish)

And it's amazing.

I've made water!

Beto, if you could see me now.

I have made water!

First survival problem solved.

Now for problem two... food.

Knife, fire cube, flare.

Breathable... ish.

(wind whistling)

Big rocks close.

More big rocks far away.

Looking to get away from it all?

I know just the place.

PIKE: All right,
let's go over it again.

There was no wormhole,
and then it just appeared.

It's not normal.

SPOCK:
It is possible our sensors

simply did not register its
presence during initial scans.

Wormholes are
notoriously unstable,

and the fact that this one
has remained nonvariant

for the last 46 hours is,
in and of itself, unique.

It's been nearly two days.

We've maintained
continuous scans of the area.

There's no sign
of shuttle debris.

- Nothing at all.
- UHURA: That could be a good sign.

No debris means
Erica could be alive.

Her shuttle may be damaged
and adrift in the gravity field.

UNA: We've picked up no life
signs, no transponder signal.

If the shuttle was adrift,

we would have registered
its ping by now.

LA'AN: If Ortegas was pulled in,

could she even survive
traveling through a wormhole?

SPOCK: There is little
comprehensive data on wormholes.

That answer is unknown.

Where would Ortegas end up
if she did make it through?

The exit point of this wormhole
is essentially unknowable.

It could be anywhere
in our galaxy,

anywhere in the universe,

or hypothetically,
even in another universe.

If the shuttle
did get pulled in,

its engines
wouldn't have enough power

- to get back out.
- And still no comms?

I'm using a narrow subspace beam
to try and reach her,

but the wormhole's event horizon
keeps reflecting it back.

I'm working
on a way to penetrate it.

Which brings us back
to square one.

Captain, a reminder.

We're scheduled to rendezvous
with the Constellation

to deliver a vaccine to the
colonists on Epsilon Indi III.

They are fighting off
a pandemic.

We need to keep trying.

Hey.

No one's giving up yet.

We still have time
to explore more avenues.

Let's make the best of it.

(sighs)

We need to bring Erica home.

ORTEGAS:
All right, need to find food.

What have we got?

(scoffs)

Clearly,
no apple orchards nearby.

This isn't looking promising.

(rumbling)

What the hell?

"Nonspecific seismic activity,"

whatever that means.

Not helpful.

Hello, wormhole.

Don't move.

You're my ticket home.

Wait a second.

That gas giant seems big.

A little too big.

(tricorder trilling)

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

This can't be right.

Gas giant's... here.

Moon... here.

The orbit's not circular.

It's a flat ellipse.

But the perigee's way too close.

Which means
the moon's orbit cuts right

through
the planet's thermosphere.

Through that toxic soup.

And brings it
right down here to me.

Which means I've got a few hours

to find a snack
and get back to the shuttle.

Ooh, I can figure this out.

"Take a shuttle," they said.

"Fly through a gravity field."

"It'll be fun," they said.

Things look bad.

Really, really bad.

(grunts)

A cave,

a hollow,

anything.

(gasps)

Neighbors?

You requested an hourly update.

- Sensor scans are still negative.
- UNA: Captain,

Constellation is requesting
an update on our rendezvous.

UHURA:
I've got it! Erica's alive!

I picked up a faint mayday
from the subspace buoy.

PIKE: Let's hear it.

ORTEGAS (choppy): Mayday...
Lieutenant... Federation... Enterprise.

(garbled radio transmission)

That's it,
but it's definitely Erica.

She made it through the wormhole
and sent this message.

It could also be a signal ghost
reflected by the event horizon.

Lieutenant Ortegas
could have sent the message

- before she entered the wormhole.
- I know comm signals.

This message was sent on
the other side of the wormhole.

Are you sure?

SPOCK: Gravimetric refraction
would negate our ability

to verify the signal's
exact point of origin.

Captain, I know she's alive.
I can feel it.

UNA:
We all want Ortegas to be alive,

but we can't discount
the possibility

of the opposite, Nyota.

Sir, there's one way
to be certain.

We can send probes
through the wormhole

to strengthen our comms
connection to Erica's shuttle.

If she's there, if she's alive,

we'll be able to contact her.

- Let's do it.
- (sighs)

Una, contact Captain Decker.

Tell him
we have an emergency situation,

but we plan to rendezvous
with Constellation on schedule.

UNA: Aye, Captain.

(wind whooshing)

(thunder rumbling)

Hello?

Anybody home?

(sighs)

♪ ♪

(growling, clucking)

(sniffing)

(growling, clucking)

(sniffing)

(panting)

We've sent six communication
probes into the wormhole.

All of them have failed
to return a signal.

UHURA: The probes aren't
strong enough to boost the signal.

If we use more, maybe a dozen,

and linked them together...

SPOCK: There is something else.

Recent scans have revealed
a new problem.

All right,
we'll add it to the list.

The wormhole's aperture
is shrinking.

UNA: Shrinking?

- Do we know why?
- We do not.

But it is possible that the
incursion of Ortegas's shuttle

and our probes are the cause.

So sending more probes
could cause the wormhole

to shrink even faster.

Indeed, or close completely.

UHURA: Right now
the aperture is still open.

We just need
to limit incursions.

You just said
we'd need 12 more probes.

But a shuttle,

retrofitted
with more powerful engines,

could do the job. Am I right?

The probability
of failure is greater

than the possibility of success.

But it is possible.

Theoretically, yes.

But it would require
exact calculations.

Theoretically possible?

Captain,
I have to advise against it.

We've already lost
one crew member.

And we have
to make our rendezvous.

UHURA: What are you saying, sir?

That we should give up on her?

I care about Erica.

Her life matters to me.

But there are 4,000 colonists
in need of a vaccine,

families with children.

4,000 lives against hers.

I'm just asking
for a little more time.

I'll authorize the mission,
provided

you can show me hard data
on its potential success.

You got four hours.

Numbers add up, I'll approve it.

You'll have the proof
you need, Captain, I promise.

(Gorn growling, clucking)

What I'd give for a phaser.

(Gorn screeches)

(grunts)

(Gorn screeching)

- (Ortegas grunts)
- (screeches)

Go ahead, damn it!
Get it over with!

(screeching)

- (snaps neck)
- (screeches)

(growling, clucking)

UHURA: No.

No. Damn it.

SPOCK:
This is the 20th simulation

and the 20th failure.

Computer?

Reset wormhole
navigational simulation:

Kamili Alpha One.

Ensign, based on these results,

a successful rescue mission
is a statistical improbability.

It is illogical to continue,

as the captain will not
authorize the mission

without positive data.

I have faith this can work.

If you don't, you can go,
but I'm staying.

Computer, run simulation.

I'm next. Is that it?

Oh, your leg is mangled.

(groaning):
Found your weak spot.

(Gorn growling, clucking)

If you want to eat me...
(grunts)

you'll have to earn it.

(screeches)

(growling, clucking)

What is this?

A trap?

I go for the meat,
you, you grab me?

Pull my legs off?

But if you wanted to kill me,
you could've...

done that at the hole,
so what is this?

What is happening?

To hell with it.

I'm starving.

(grunting)

(groaning)

Don't look at it.

Just eat it.

(grunts)

(retching)

(trilling)

(thunder cracking)

ORTEGAS: I think that's
a Gorn comms array.

I could use that.

(growling, clucking)

Once I figure out
how to fix this comms array,

I'll be able to signal
our surveillance buoy

and hopefully hail
the Enterprise

on the other side
of the wormhole.

What the hell is that?

(rumbling)

(gasping)

(creatures hissing)

(skittering)

(creatures hissing, skittering)

(screeches)

(creatures hissing)

All right, what do we got?

Ensign Uhura has an intriguing
if unorthodox plan.

Mr. Spock doesn't believe
that a shuttle could make it

through the wormhole
and return safely,

and he's right.

So I had to think
outside of the box.

Way outside.
I ran every simulation

and found the only viable way
to successfully transit

the gravity waves
and search for Erica.

We need to take Enterprise
through the wormhole.

Unorthodox is an understatement.

SPOCK: In addition, Uhura's
plan requires we create a stable

warp field around the ship,
effectively wedging

the wormhole aperture open.

What about the vaccines
on board for Epsilon Indi III?

We're not just gonna be
risking ourselves.

I understand that,

which means we have
enough time to try it once.

You can pull the plug
if it gets too risky.

Can this really work?

Using a starship
to prop open a wormhole?

Yes, in theory.

When we're inside this thing,
how bad is signal interference?

Scan capability needs
to be above 60%.

COMPUTER: 61%.

Okay.

We've got a rescue mission.

ORTEGAS:
A personal deflector shield.

Repurposed power source.

So, how's this sound?

I wrap up your leg,
you let me sleep here.

- And don't eat me.
- (clucking)

Deal?

(Gorn growling)

You want me to use this paste?

Is it ground-up crystals?

(screeches)

Sorry, sorry.

What the hell am I doing?

(low growling, clucking)

(growls)

You're welcome.

(low growling, clucking)

(screeches)

I get it. You're no fan of fire.

I need to cook this to eat it.

Understand?

You like pit-monster sushi.
I don't.

I need fire.

I'm hungry.

(low growling, clucking)

Hmm.

That's your helmet?

You're a pilot?

Like me?

(growling, clucking)

♪

Storm's over.

Crap.

It's shrinking?

Somehow I've got to let
Enterprise know I'm alive.

I need to repair
your comms gear.

To do that,
I'm gonna need your help.

You growling and me playing
charades isn't gonna cut it.

We need to be able
to communicate.

Trust me. I know what I'm doing.

I think I know what I'm doing.

Not exactly
a universal translator,

but, uh, better than nothing.

It should give yes or no
responses.

- (growling, clucking)
- TRANSLATOR: Agree.

Wait, how'd you know
what I was saying?

(growling, clucking)

- You understand me.
- (growling, clucking)

Agree.

You study your prey.

(growling, clucking)

Disagree.

You want to understand
your enemy.

- (growling, clucking)
- Agree.

Let's try a different question.
Uh...

- Do you like it here?
- (growling, clucking)

Disagree.

(chuckles) Second that.

Are you male?

(growling, clucking)

Disagree.

Female?

- (growling, clucking)
- Agree.

Look at us.

Just a couple girls
having a slumber party.

We could braid
each other's hair.

If you had any. Or if I had any.

I can't believe I'm joking
with a Gorn.

(growling, clucking)

Here we are,

two pilots stranded
on a flying tombstone.

It's a miracle
you've been able to survive

this friggin' death moon
all alone.

- (growling, clucking)
- Agree.

Just playing chess with a Gorn.

The queen...

like this.

- No.
- (hisses)

Only a knight can jump over
other pieces. Got it?

(growling, clucking)

I feel like you've played
chess before.

(growling, clucking)

You've beaten me
three games straight.

Are you hustling me?

You carved these
out of creatures' bones?

Agree.

Mama needs a new shuttlecraft.

(laughs)

I won. I won? Ha!

- I won.
- (growling, clucking)

You want me to eat it?

Is that what the winner does?
The winner eats

the final captured piece?

- (growling, clucking)
- Agree.

(laughing): No, I don't agree.

It's a game, not a food group.

(growling, clucking)

(Ortegas scoffs)

All right. Don't get your scales
in an uproar.

Mmm.

(growling, clucking)

Ah.

(comms trilling)

Hey, you want to help me here?

It's your gear.

If we make an SOS beacon,

there's a chance
we can be rescued.

I know my people.

They're searching for me.

(growling, clucking)

I, uh, do these for luck
when I fly.

Means we'll make it home.

(powering up)

Whew! Hell yeah! (Laughs)

Chalk up another "W"
for the home team.

Whoo! (Laughs)

(exhales)

I am bowled over
by your enthusiasm.

It's working.

Once it's recharged,
we can get a signal,

maybe get off this rock.

Damn thing keeps getting
smaller.

There's something else going on.

Why didn't my sensors
detect the wormhole

before it showed up?

Why didn't my tricorder
pick up your shelter?

And what is with those
strange flashes of light?

You know that vibe in the air

right before flying into battle?

You're in the clear, but somehow

you can't shake the feeling
like you're being watched.

- (growling, clucking)
- Agree.

Your wounds are infected.

I need to get you more crystals.

- (growling, clucking)
- Disagree. Disagree.

If this infection spreads,
it will kill you.

This weird goo is the only stuff
that slows it down.

(growling, clucking)

Disagree. Disagree.

(growling, clucking)

Broken. Is that it?

You think you're too broken
to fix?

(growling, clucking)

I've seen the Gorn
destroy their own ship

because they thought
it was weak.

So for you, rescue's
a death sentence.

- (low clucking)
- Okay.

So what? You'll come with us.

Show my people
who you really are,

like you've shown me.

We can work this out.

I know it.

(growls, screeches)

Disagree.

So, you are not giving up.

You're not dying.

Not here, not now.

I won't let you.

- (growling, clucking)
- Disagree.

(screeches)

Disagree.

- (hisses, screeches)
- Disagree.

Sensor readings will be
unreliable.

To navigate through
the gravity field,

we must be on manual control.

Other than Ortegas, I am
the best pilot on the ship.

Never heard that one before, sir.

(rumbling)

Gravimetric pressure increasing.

(rumbling)

Engaging full impulse.

The odds are in our favor.
We can do this.

Scan ability is 61%.

(loud bang)

(praying softly in Swahili)

(rumbling)

UNA: We are stationary
in the wormhole.

How's our static warp field?

Stable, but the wormhole
is exerting

increasing gravimetric pressure.

Well, we are the peach pit
stuck in its throat.

If we overstay, the Enterprise
will be crushed by the aperture.

Una, let me know when
we hit the redline.

UNA: Aye, Captain.

LA'AN: All sensors are trained

on the gas giant and its moons.

There are lots of them.

396 to be exact.

I'm picking up Ortegas's mayday.

It doesn't specify where
she might have crashed.

LA'AN: Scanning 396 moons

will take longer than we have
to make the rendezvous.

Uhura, monitor all frequencies
for any comms.

Spock, start scanning moons.

Begin with the closest.
Maybe we'll get lucky.

(wind whooshing)

I see you, whatever you are.

Always in the right place
and at the wrong time.

So what do you want?

(grunts)

(creature chittering)

(powering down)

That battery was charging
the comms array.

And powering the shield.

Without it, we've got
no protection

from the creatures.

Or from the orbital storm.

I just killed us.

(thunder rumbling)

Once we hit the storm's horizon,

the pit things will come out
and tear us to shreds.

And if somehow we survive that,

then we choke and die
in a toxic hurricane.

- (growling, clucking)
- Agree.

The flare.

The flare.

Yes.

When the atmospheres collide,

the air is going
to be flammable.

Oh, but we don't have much time.

Almost none.

We need to make something

that will ignite part
of the gas giant's atmosphere

so we can create a burning SOS

across the face of the planet.

- Disagree.
- No, no, this is doable.

I know my people,
I know they're looking for me.

But to ignite the air,
we'll need the storm

to be right on top of us.

Disagree.

Which also means we'll be
exposed to a big fiery kaboom.

- Agree. Disagree.
- Yes, I know, I get it.

It's a huge gamble, but it's
how we get a chance to live.

(low growling, clucking)

Please.

Help me save us.

Yes! A thruster pack
with propellant in the tank.

If we launch it
right when the storm hits,

there's our kaboom.

There's no way they'll miss it.

But if we pull this off,

we're at the center
of a giant fireball.

(low growling, clucking)

(excited chuckle)

I thought I had a rough landing.

It's part of the heat shield
from your escape pod.

I know you hate to admit it,

but you like this plan.

- (growling, clucking)
- Disagree.

(thunder rumbling)

(growling, clucking)

Yeah, I see it.

(grunting)

Just sit there
and keep judging me.

It's fine.

(panting)

(low growling, clucking)

You're right.

We're toast.

I give up.

It's pointless.

(growling, clucking)

Disagree.

(grunting)

The enemy of my enemy.

(growling, clucking)

Disagree.

Friend.

- (growling, clucking)
- Agree.

(thunder crashes)

Hopefully, there's enough power
in these crystals for a launch.

When it does, things go boom.

We just have to time it right
or we die.

All right, Enterprise,
let's light this candle.

Damn it.

I have to go launch it manually.

(growling, clucking)

- Disagree.
- No time to argue.

Disagree.

- Disagree. Disagree.
- No.

(panting)

(powering up)

(yells)

If we don't make it,

at least we know
we're not broken anymore.

- (growling, clucking)
- Agree.

You said you wanted to be told
when we hit the redline.

Here it is.

Captain, I have to tell you...

I know you fudged
the numbers, Nyota.

Doesn't matter.

I would've searched
for her anyway.

Blurring the rules...
that is new for you, but...

it's not bad
for the right reasons.

Thank you, Captain.

Spock, anything?

We've scanned 146 moons.
All negative.

I'm sorry, Chris,
we've run out of time.

Erica may or may not be alive,

but if we don't get
out of this wormhole,

we risk the entire crew

and the colonists.

All right.
Prepare to reverse course.

SPOCK: Captain, I am picking up

an anomalous reading
from one of the unscanned moons.

It is an unusual
atmospheric eruption.

PIKE: On-screen, magnify.

What is that?

Scans indicate
it is a volatile explosion.

Yes!

It's her!

That's her!

Only Erica would be crazy enough

to set a planet on fire
to get our attention.

La'An, take a landing party
to the surface.

Bring Lieutenant Ortegas home.

With pleasure, sir.

(sobs)

Over there.

- (growls)
- Erica!

(phasers charge)

- (screeches)
- No!

No!

- Erica. Are you all right?
- Why?

Why?

Why? Why?!

- Lieutenant?
- No, no.

No, I'm not talking to you.

There has to be some reason.

Where are you?

Who's behind this?

You hear me?
Strange sparkle thing.

I can feel you're watching!

Now come and face me!

Are you there?!
What do you want?!

LA'AN:
Enterprise, beam us up now.

Hello, Lieutenant Erica Ortegas.

I have taken on this form

so that we may
more easily communicate.

Who are you?

We are the Metrons.

We've inhabited
this region of space

since long before your species
walked upright.

Why did you do this to us?

Curiosity.

- Curiosity?
- Human and Gorn.

Two barbaric species,
each determined

to destroy the other.

But what could happen
if you were forced together...

with the need to survive?

We found the idea
of such an experiment...

intriguing.

This was more than that.

When you first arrived,

this creature didn't
need you to survive.

It kept you alive
because it was lonely.

And you,

you managed to work
past your pain and trauma.

There is hope
for your two species.

Well, pardon me for saying,
but I don't care what you think.

The violent reaction
of your fellow human

has given us much to consider.

We need more data to determine

if the Human and the Gorn
will ever find peace.

(indistinct whispering)

What are they telling you?

You are not ready to meet us.

You won't remember me,
and perhaps someday

we may need to reset your
perception of the Gorn as well.

- What will I remember?
- What you experienced.

It was genuine.

You may keep it.

(door chimes)

Come in.

Erica?

I saw you
in the transporter room,

but there were so many people,
I didn't want to...

I know what you did
to get me back.

(sniffs) Oh.

- You smell...
- (laughs)

awesome. (Sniffs)

Yeah, I would have stopped
into the local spa,

- but it was closed.
- (chuckles)

(sighs)

What you had to face
down there...

what happened to the Gorn...

She kept me alive.

She saved me.

She was my friend.

La'An is my friend, too.

I don't know
what to do with that.

They both wanted to protect you.

So what do I do now?

You remember her.

Okay.

(door whooshes open)

(door whooshes shut)

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