All language subtitles for Star.Trek.Discovery.S01E05.Choose.Your.Pain.540p.CBS.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.x264-AJP69-HI

Previously on
Star Trek: Discovery...

LORCA: I would like to extend
an official invitation

to join the Discovery

and be a member
of our crew.

Sir, I've been court-martialed
and convicted.

SARU:
You are dangerous...

and you are someone to
fear, Michael Burnham.

LORCA: The Discovery is now
the only Starfleet ship

with a displacement-activated
spore hub drive.

We will be able to materialize
anywhere in the known universe.

BURNHAM:
This ship's spore drive travels

on a network of mycelium.

We just can't
control where we go.

But maybe the Tardigrade can.

(screams)

STAMETS:
We're ready to jump, sir.

Go.

This was sent for you.

FEMALE VOICE: Do you accept
the last will and testament

of Captain Philippa Georgiou?

I am leaving you
my most beloved possession,

handed down through my family
for centuries.

(chirping)

♪ ♪

(screaming)

(panting)

(snoring)

BURNHAM:
Dr. Culber,

I've been studying the creature
since it came on board.

It's incredibly
regenerative,

but with each jump
Discovery makes, it cries out.

And the last 48 hours,
it seems sluggish,

depressed.

CULBER: We don't know
if it experiences

stress or pain like we do.

You think
I'm anthropomorphizing.

You discovered how to use
the Tardigrade for navigation,

a victory that maybe
isn't a victory anymore

given the creature's
deteriorating condition.

Let me run some tests.

Thank you.

LORCA:
In less than three weeks,

the Discovery has prevented
the destruction

of the dilithium mines
at Corvan 2,

broken the Klingon supply line
at Benzar,

and routed an attack
through the Ophiucus system.

The reason you've been
brought here today

is it has become
increasingly imperative

that we duplicate Discovery's
spore drive technology

and get it into as many
Starfleet vessels as possible.

To that end,
I ordered Lieutenant Stamets

to release the schematics
of our propulsion system

immediately after
our first successful jump.

Our new classified facility in
Jefferson, Iowa received them

and is building units

according
to those specs.

We need more Tardigrades

to ensure safe,
accurate navigation.

Every ship,
every starbase,

every colony is on the
hunt for these creatures.

In the meantime,

we want Discovery to dial back
on its missions.

No, no, hold on a second.

There is concern,

at the highest
levels of leadership,

about taxing
our prime asset.

LORCA: Discovery
should be out there,

winning battles.

We believe the enemy

may have identified Discovery

as our secret weapon.

You are hereby ordered
to reign in

your use of the spore drive
unless authorized by Starfleet.

With respect to the war effort,

the fleet will pick up the slack
caused by your absence.

That's a lot of slack.

We'll manage.

(indistinct chatter)

Hi, roomie.

Oh, my God, you look awful.

Thank you, Tilly.

That's it. We're gonna
have lunch right now.

I mean it...

I mean that you're gonna tell
me what's going on with you.

There's nothing to tell.

Uh, okay.

Um, that's okay. I-I get it.

It was bound to
happen sometime.

There are so many interesting
people on this ship.

I'm sure you've made
tons of friends by now.

Tilly, it's not you.

It's me.

Well, since that is
very rarely the case

in my case, I would love
to hear how it's not me.

I'm out of sorts.

I'm preoccupied.

About?

The Tardigrade.

Each time we use the spore drive
it gets weaker.

You're stressed.

WOMAN (over P.A.):
Security briefing on Deck 15.

I barely have a job here.

I've never been less busy.

Then, that gives you
the time and space

to actually process what you're
going through, emotionally.

I don't like it.

Really?

I love feeling feelings.

(electric whirring)

(grunts softly)

Aah!

Turn it down!

(exhales)

Sorry. I didn't know
you were still in here.

Just saddling up
for the ride, Admiral.

Why don't you get
your damn eyes fixed?

Oh, you know, Katrina,
I don't trust doctors.

Should I take that personally?

It's punishment
for blindsiding me

in that pathetic excuse
for a strategy session.

Cut the crap, Gabriel.

And by the way, there's
something I didn't bring up,

lest you think
I was piling on.

The matter
of Michael Burnham.

No, no, no. Starfleet
regulation 139...

82 allows you to conscript
virtually anyone in time of war.

And so I have.

This organization's only

convicted mutineer
is viewed by many...

justifiably or not...
as the cause

of our conflict with
the Klingons. To see her

avoiding justice
does nothing for general morale.

When I accepted
the command

I was given the fullest latitude

to fight this war how I saw fit.

But why give everyone
another reason to judge you?

(short chuckle)

(sighs)

Are you uncomfortable

with the power I've
been given, Admiral?

I'm your friend.

Mm-hmm.

It's my ship.

My way.

(alarm blaring)

FEMALE VOICE: Warning: incoming

warp signature detected.

Klingon class D7 battle cruiser
identified.

Tractor beam engaged.

(loud clang)

(yells)

(grunting)

Aah! (groans)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(original Star Trek theme
plays)

CORNWELL: The pilot was killed
in the subsequent firefight.

Captain Lorca was captured
by the Klingons.

Do we know where
he was taken, Admiral?

No.

By the time we responded to
the shuttle's distress beacon,

the enemy's warp trail
had dissipated.

Since you're
acting captain,

I'm sending you
what little intel we have.

This was a targeted abduction.
It's possible the Klingons

have learned of the existence
of Discovery's propulsion system

and taken Lorca
to learn more.

We need him back,
Mr. Saru,

before they pry those secrets
out of him.

We will find him, Admiral.

Good luck.

Lieutenant Detmer,

set course
for the shuttle's

last known coordinates.
Maximum warp.

Lieutenant Owosekun,
establish search parameters

sector by sector.

Calculate potential
escape vectors

correlating to all known Klingon
bases, colonies and planets

within
five light-years.

(door whooshes open)

Burnham.

What are you doing
on the bridge?

I came to speak
to Captain Lorca.

I'm afraid
that won't be possible.

Commander Airiam,

alert Lieutenant Stamets
that we may be

making multiple jumps
in rapid succession

throughout Klingon space
to see if we can

track the ship
that made the abduction.

Yes, sir.

Multiple jumps?

Do you have an issue
with that plan?

I just don't know
how feasible it's gonna be.

I'm concerned that we are
negatively impacting

the Tardigrade with
each jump we make.

I was told
it's virtually indestructible.

I disagree with
that assessment.

Do you have proof
that we are harming it?

Not as of yet.

I am not finding this
information to be helpful

in any way.

We are about to embark
on a rescue mission

to save the life of our captain.
Are you suggesting

we forego that?

No, of course not.

I'm just worried.
I don't know

how much more the
Tardigrade can sustain.

The more you hurt someone,
the less helpful they become.

Focus on the task at hand.

There will be no more discussion
of the Tardigrade

until the captain is back, safe.
Understood?

Yes, sir.

You may go.

(door whooshes open)

(sighs)

(door whooshes shut)

Computer, list Starfleet's
most decorated captains,

living and deceased.

COMPUTER:
Working.

Based on their service records,

is it possible to identify

the qualities most essential
to their success?

Characteristics most often cited

include bravery, self-sacrifice,

intelligence,
tactical brilliance, compassion.

Computer, initiate new protocol.

Please record all data
related to my performance

as acting captain of Discovery,

and cross-reference
with success parameters.

Note where deviations occur.

State the purpose
of the new protocol.

There is an element
aboard this ship

that causes me
to second-guess myself.

That cannot continue.

I must remain clear-headed
in pursuit of today's mission.

Alternative solution.

Eliminate destructive element.

Not an option.

(screaming in distance)

(male speaking Klingon
in distance)

(gasps)

Who are you?

The name is Mudd.
Harcourt Fenton Mudd.

Harry for short.

And I reiterate... ouch.

Where are we?

On a resort

off Antares Minor.

(cries out)

You should try the spa.

The hot-stone massage
is delightful.

Where are we?

Typical Starfleet,
no fun at all.

We are on a Klingon
prison vessel.

A particularly nasty one.

What's a civilian like you doing
on a Klingon prison vessel?

The only crime I'm guilty of
is loving too much.

It's true, Captain.

I fell for a woman
far beyond my reach.

Sweet Stella.
(chuckles)

Her family didn't
approve of me,

so I had no choice except
to try and buy

her father's respect.

Scary, scary man.

So I borrowed a large sum from
some nontraditional lenders,

and gifted her with a moon.

It worked like a charm...

until I fell behind
in my payments. Hmm.

The creditors came after me,

chased me into enemy territory

right into the Klingon's arms,

who deposited me here,

where I await my fate.

(prisoner groans)

Oh, I wouldn't bother
with him, Captain.

I believe the technical term
for his condition

is... "out to lunch."

Here comes the floor show.

Choose your pain.

(Klingon grunting)

(man grunting)

They may look stupid,
our Klingon hosts;

they're anything but.

They regularly give us a
choice to choose our pain.

We can accept the
beating ourselves

or pass it on to
our cellmates.

It's our captors' way
of keeping us from bonding.

You seem conspicuously free
from bruises.

I've learned how
to choose wisely.

Don't judge. You're gonna
want to stick with me.

I'm a survivor, just like you.

You should know that
Lieutenant Stamets

rarely, if ever,
listens to me.

I can handle him.

Please, show me how.

BURNHAM:
Lieutenant Stamets.

Your spore drive is genius.

Beyond genius.

What you've achieved
for the war effort,

for the whole of science itself,

it's a contribution...

I know I'm brilliant.

What are you trying
to get out of me?

Why are you with her?

Burnham is worried

about the physical effects
that Discovery's jumps

are having on
the Tardigrade.

I've done my own evaluations,
and I must concur.

Scans of its
frontal lobe show

significant
cumulative deterioration

every time we go to black alert.

We need to find a workaround.

Making Ripper the
critical component

for the s-drive is unsustainable

for the creature
and your invention.

We could lose them both.

And with them, any chance
of saving Captain Lorca.

Aren't there actual people
on this ship

who require your attention,
Doctor?

Actually, the CMO
does need my help

with an Andorian
tonsillectomy.

To be clear,

the Tardigrade
was your contribution.

I never intended

to utilize a living creature
as a navigation tool.

I didn't either.

You say portabella,
I say portobello.

You are the cause of
this situation, Burnham.

What are you doing
with your mouth?

I am swallowing the urge
to set the record straight.

That won't
get us anywhere.

Do you want to be right
or do you want to fix this?

(snoring)

(prisoner screaming in distance)

I didn't realize

there were more of us in here.

Pulled out of rotation.

(exhales)
Sometimes they let us heal up

so we last longer.

Shit. You're a captain?

(screaming continues)

(groans)

Here, eat.

No, you go ahead.

Sorry, sir, I'm gonna
have to insist.

We never know when
they'll feed us.

You got to keep
up your strength.

I already lost
one captain,

I won't lose another.

What's your name, soldier?

Lieutenant Ash Tyler.

And the captain you lost?

Steven Maranville,
the USS Yeager.

The finest, sir.

You were at the
Battle of the Binaries?

They gave it a name, huh?

That's where
I was captured.

So you've been here
seven months.

(chuckles)

That's funny to you?

Sorry, sir.
It's just, um...

If that's true,

I'm tougher
than I thought.

Or a liar.

Nobody survives
Klingon torture

for seven months.
What are you doing here?

They got a reason
to keep you alive?

WOMAN (in distance):
No, please, no, no!

The captain of this ship...

she's taken a liking to me.

You must have picked up
a few details.

What's the crew complement
of this vessel?

Can't be certain,
30, maybe 40.

LORCA: You got a sense of
the layout of the decks?

Uh-uh.

I got to get my hands

on an active comm relay

so I can signal my ship
for extraction.

We're deep within
enemy territory.

There's no way a Federation ship

can make it out this far
undetected.

Oh, my ship can.

It's like a ghost.

(clicking)

(chittering)

Mudd,

if I see that pet
of yours again...

Apologies, Lieutenant.

Stuart has boundary issues.

(squeaks)

And besides,

we're both a little hungry.

LORCA: You'd take food out of the mouths

of the only two men standing
between you and death?

Damn right I would.

Because this is all Starfleet
has left me.

I used to have
a life, Captain,

a good one.
A respectable business.

That all got blown up
because of your goddamn war.

Starfleet didn't start this war.

Of course you did,

the moment you decided to boldly
go where no one had gone before.

What did you think would happen
when you bumped into someone

who didn't want you
in their front yard?

You're siding with the enemy?

I'm not siding
with anyone.

But I sure as hell understand
why the Klingons pushed back.

Starfleet arrogance.

Have you ever bothered

to look out of your spaceships
down at the little guys below?

If you had,

you'd realize
that there's a lot more

of us down there
than there are you up here.

And we're sick and
tired of getting caught

in your cross fire.

(door closes)

STAMETS: So we need the spore
drive to save Captain Lorca,

but the spore drive is killing
the Tardigrade.

All right. Let's start
with our mushroom.

Prototaxites stellaviatori,

a species made up
of exotic material

found not only in normal space

but in a discrete
subspace domain

known as the mycelial network.

Its fungal roots,

aka mycelium,
spread across the universe,

fanning out into infinity

to create a matrix that serves

as our intergalactic
freeway system.

Enter the Tardigrade,
whose unique genetic makeup

allows it to navigate
through the network

because of its
symbiotic relationship

with the mycelium's spores.

Like its microscopic
cousins on Earth,

the Tardigrade is able
to incorporate foreign DNA

into its own genome
via horizontal gene transfer.

When Ripper borrows DNA
from the mycelium,

he's granted an all-access
travel pass.

TILLY: Once Lieutenant
Stamets conveys the coordinates

of a selected destination
directly into Ripper...

he knows exactly
where to go.

The Tardigrade's DNA is already
sequenced into the computer.

Can't we build a virtual Ripper?

Trick the mycelium into
thinking it's communicating

with the real thing and then
navigate the ship that way?

STAMETS: That's what I was
doing with my earlier research.

Trying to use software to
engage with the network.

BURNHAM: And you were only
able to achieve small jumps.

See, now I know why.

The spores and the drive

were functioning at a fraction
of their capacity

until we presented the mycelium

with an animate copilot.

That's the key.
The Tardigrade's alive.

We just need to integrate
the same sequence

into a compatible species,
one that understands

its role in this process
and engages willingly.

(laughing): You guys,
this is so fucking cool.

I'm so sorry.

No, Cadet.
It is fucking cool.

Let's do it.

Have you ever been tortured,
Captain?

Your English, it's excellent.

I'm descended from spies.

Languages are useful,

particularly when it comes
to understanding those

who seek to destroy
the Klingon empire.

LORCA:
Little ol' me?

You've been busy these past
three weeks, Captain Lorca.

It was you who
first surprised us

in the Corvan system.

Appearing out of nowhere

and then disappearing
without a trace.

Undetectable, like a ghost.

No other Starfleet
vessel can do that.

What is your vessel's secret?

I have no idea
what you're talking about.

Hmm.

You suffer from extreme
photosensitivity.

Well, we all got
something, honey.

You're seeking solace
in the arms of a human male.

We don't even have the right
number of organs for you.

Why so hard up?

(yells)

Now who's being sensitive?

How strange space
must look to you now,

seen through those
damaged eyes.

A cosmos full
of agonizing light.

Another creature might have
slumped back into the darkness.

But not you.

You seek... glory.

(laughs)

Perhaps you realize
glory must be earned.

Through sacrifice.

And pain.

(yelling)

Lieutenant Rhys,
when will your analysis

of our long-range sensor data
be complete?

It is our only hope of closing
in on Captain Lorca's location.

We've narrowed it down to
three potential courses,

all of which pass near
through the Mempa system.

Very good.

Alert Mr. Stamets
we are ready to proceed

with our rescue mission.

Lieutenant Stamets is taking

the spore drive off-line, sir.

(beeping)

I don't understand. You'd think
any number of species

would be compatible recipients
of the Tardigrade DNA sequence.

TILLY:
I had the computer run

all known life-forms
in the Federation database.

Should I try to access
the classified database

at the Daystrom Institute...

SARU:
No, Cadet.

You should not.

Why did you shut down
the spore drive?

Up on the bridge, we
were trying to pinpoint

the coordinates that will
lead us to Captain Lorca.

We're working on something
extremely important.

A substitute
for the Tardigrade.

Why?

Burnham informed me
that our jumps are depleting it.

She brought
these concerns

to me as well.

And I told her to stand down

until Captain Lorca was safely
back on board Discovery.

Obviously, this was not
the response she wanted.

So far, we found
one viable workaround.

This hypospray contains

Tardigrade DNA
and replication catalysts

that will initiate

rapid horizontal gene transfer
in a host.

The interface process requires
an evolved organism,

a species with a highly
functioning nervous system.

And one that,
like the Tardigrade,

shares genetic information
with mushrooms.

The animal kingdom
may have diverted

from its fungal counterparts
600 million years ago,

but Homo sapiens still share
over half of our DNA with them.

You want to use a human?

Eugenics experiments
are forbidden.

I know.

And that's why
we need more time.

I gave you an order!

Do you understand?

Captain Saru, I understand
that you are upset.

You're in command.

It's a time of crisis.

And your culture trains you

to be on the heightened lookout
for enemies.

But I assure you
I'm not one of them.

How dare you treat me

like one of your
xenoanthropology subjects.

You're not an enemy, Burnham.

You are a proven predator.

And I know this not only
because my instincts

tell me that you are,
but because your actions

show me that you are.

Saving this Tardigrade
will neither bring back

nor change the fact that this
is exactly the kind of behavior

that killed Captain Georgiou.

(beep)

RHYS:
Bridge to the captain.

We believe we have identified
the battle cruiser

that is holding Captain Lorca.

Acknowledged.

Lieutenant Stamets,

bring the drive
back online

and prepare the Tardigrade
to jump.

Confine yourself to quarters
immediately.

(grunts)

(grunts)

Now, let's be adults
and use our words.

(squeaking)

Stealing food
was just a diversion.

(squeaks)

You've been transmitting
everything we say

to the enemy.

(squeaks)

When I first
got here,

I dropped
a little conversational nugget

to see if either
of you could be trusted.

Yeah.

I just had

my words parroted back at me

by the Klingon
captain.

You've been feeding intel
on every prisoner

that passed through here.

(grunts)

(squeaks)

MUDD:
No!

Stuart!

(squeaking)

Stuart! Oh.

You almost killed him.

(grunts)

You're finished.

And when it's time
to choose our pain,

we're choosing you.

Until there's nothing left.

(exhales)

MUDD:
Captain,

are you really gonna let

this idealistic young man
humiliate himself

by siding
with you?

Hmm?

Have you no decency,

Lorca?

Actually,
that was a trick question.

I know you don't.

We both know you lost that
with your last command.

What's he talking about?

MUDD: A tragic tale
of the USS Buran.

It was ambushed about a month
into the war.

The Klingons boarded it
and blasted it into smithereens.

Only one crewman
managed to escape.

Gabriel Lorca.

Apparently,

the honorable captain was too
good to go down with his ship.

That's only half right.

We were ambushed,
and I did... escape.

But I didn't let
my crew die.

I blew them up.

I knew what awaited
them on Qo'noS...

degradation,
torture,

slow, public death.

It's the Klingon way.

To spread terror.

Not my crew.

Not on my watch.

Well, they say confession
is good for the soul.

Too bad none of us
have one anymore.

SARU:
Commander Airiam,

set displacement parameters
to bring us within

weapons range
of our target Bird-of-Prey.

Aye, sir.

Lieutenant Stamets,

are you ready?

Yes, Captain.

Black alert.

(alarm ringing)

(roaring)

Go.

(Tardigrade growling)

(groans)

(beeping)

(snarls softly)

CULBER: The creature has gone
into a state

of extreme cryptobiosis,

by reducing the water
content levels of its body

to less than
one percent.

Its vital signs
have slowed to the point

we can barely
detect them.

Well, rehydrate it
and bring it back.

Mr. Rhys,
have we been detected?

Negative.

Captain Saru, I'm...

Location of Klingon prison ship.

.7 AUs from our position.

Bearing 13-mark-59.

Match their course and speed.

Maintain our distance.

Cut all systems and run silent.

CULBER:
Captain, we're not done here.

This isn't like
waking someone

from a nap.

This is an extreme reaction
to adverse conditions.

The Tardigrade is
in survival mode.

So are we,
Doctor.

Crack it open if you have to.

In my opinion,
that will kill it.

As it is our only way
to get out of Klingon space,

it is a risk we must take.

Captain, neurological
tests indicate

that this creature
may be sentient.

If that ends up being true,

I will face the consequences
of my actions.

I do not enjoy being
in this position, but I have

134 souls to protect today.

Be ready to force
the creature to comply.

CULBER:
I will not be party

to murder.

Doctor, I was not talking
to you.

Do you understand

my orders and can I count on you
to follow them,

Lieutenant Stamets?

Yes, sir.

Choose your pain.

TYLER:
Choose me, Captain.

I fully support that idea.

TYLER:
You do this for me.

Choose me.

GUARD:
Choose...

your... pain.

Oh, thank you,

thank you,
thank you,

thank you, thank you,

thank you, thank you.

(grunting)

(shouts)

(grunting)

(crack)

(grunts)

(crack)

(scoffs)

Where the hell
did that come from?

Getting out of here

was always a two-man job.

I just waited

till I found the right man.

You played me.
(chuckles): Oh.

Bravura, Mr. Tyler.
I doff my cap.

Well, shall we proceed
to our raider?

There is no "we," Mudd.
You sold us out.

You stay.

You can't be serious.

Oh, but I can.

(shouts)

You can't do this!

I can't take it
in here anymore.

Please, I promised Stella
that I would come home to her.

Please.

I promised!

No! No!

No!

(panting)

You can't walk away from me,
Lorca!

I'm coming for
you, you hear?!

You haven't seen the last
of Harcourt Fenton Mudd!

(grunting)

(groans)

Hey.

(groans)

Get up, soldier! Get up!

I'm slowing you down, sir, go.

(panting)

All right, take cover.

I'll find a way out and I'll be
back for you, you understand?

Did you really think
you could leave me?

After all we've been through.

(yells)

(groaning)

(blows landing)

(shrieking)

(gasping)

Tyler, I found the docking bay.

Get up, let's go.

(screaming)

Redirect all auxiliary
power to shields.

Blue panel
on the right.

Five raiders

in pursuit, closing fast.

Your eyes...

that happened when you destroyed
the Buran, didn't it?

We choose our own pain.

Mine helps me remember.

Klingon raiders, sir.

Five ships and counting
heading right towards us.

Red alert.

We must have been spotted, sir.

Shall I lock on
and prepare to fire?

(alarm blaring)

The leader of the pack seems

to have charted
an erratic flight pattern.

We are now
within their weapons range.

Should I lock phasers, sir?

Predator packs often split into
smaller groups while in pursuit.

One group initiating the chase,

while another travels ahead
of the prey's escape path.

Hail that raider!

Initiating communication
will expose our position.

The lead vessel is being
chased. It's our captain!

RICHTER:
Federation starship Discovery

to Klingon raider.

Identify yourself.

Oh, what do you know?

The cavalry showed up.

This is Captain Lorca.

Two to beam out. Now!

SARU:
Bridge to transporter room.

Do you have a lock?

OFFICER: Aye, sir.

Lower your shields,
Captain Lorca.

(metallic trilling)

Captain to bridge.
You got us.

Jump. Jump now!

Lieutenant Stamets, have you
revived the Tardigrade?

We are able to jump, Commander.

Klingon raiders have detected
our transporter signature.

They're locking weapons.

Black alert.

Go.

Easy, soldier. You're home.

Thank you, Captain.

For what?

Dragging you back
into the war

on a ship with a
target on its back?

There's no place
I'd rather be.

Bridge to Stamets.

Congratulations, Lieutenant.
Excellent work.

Lieutenant Stamets, do you copy?

Sir, Lieutenant Stamets is
in engineering, but it seems

his life signs
are in distress.

COMPUTER:
Warning: failure

to initiate spore drive
deactivation sequence.

Spore chamber active.

Density at 68%...

Drive system online.

Open this door.

Induction coil saturated.

Captain, he...
he injected himself

with the Tardigrade
DNA compound.

Is he dead?

(gasps)

Did we make it?

Yes.

(laughing)

(door chimes)

Come.

Captain Lorca
has been... rescued.

On the subject
of the Tardigrade,

there has been
a setback.

Cadet Tilly brought me
up to speed...

sir.

Permission to speak freely?

Are you really afraid of me?

I am not.

I am...

angry at you.

Angry because of how much
you stole from me.

I am deeply jealous

that I never got the chance
you had.

To be Captain Georgiou's
first officer?

You stood by her side

and learned everything
she had to teach.

The anticipated scenario...
you would move up and out.

Captain your own starship.

And I would take your place.

I never got that chance.

If I had, I would have been
more prepared for today.

You did well.

Very well.

She would have thought so, too.

SARU:
Her telescope.

She left it to me.

It's yours now.

You should have the privilege

to see the universe
the way she did.

Burnham?

Captain Lorca has yet
to be cleared for command.

I have much to attend to,

and I could use your help
with one thing.

Of course.

Dr. Culber believes the
Tardigrade is sentient.

It remains in a state
of cryptobiosis.

We have no claim
on its soul.

Go save its life, Burnham.

That's an order.

May the sun and moon watch
your comings and goings

in the endless nights
and days that are before you.

Are you sure this'll work?

No.

But if this is its response
to an adverse environment,

what does it consider
to be hospitable?

This creature has traveled to
the far ends of the universe.

My hope is that what
makes it most happy...

is to be free.

(chittering)

(bellows)

COMPUTER: Initiating performance
review, Acting Captain Saru.

Protocol canceled.

I know what I did.

Stop.

Stop what?

Stop worrying,
stop doctoring.

Well,

one tends to worry
when they're doomed

to love a brilliant
but reckless maniac

who's willing to risk his life
for glory.

The captain was in danger.

Captains are
in danger every day.

You were in danger.

I've spent my
entire career

trying to grasp the
essence of mycelium.

Now, for the first time, I do.

I saw the network,

an entire universe
of possibilities

I never dreamed existed.

It's...

unspeakably beautiful.

I also knew
you'd leave me

if I let anything else
endanger that creature.

Oh. So you do listen to me.

Not really.

You sold that with a look.

Don't do anything that stupid
ever again.

You may not care about you,

but I do.

You sure you feel okay?

Yes, dear doctor.

I feel okay.

Okay.

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