Original subtitles

Sync & corrections by Costa Dax www.addic7ed.com

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Ensign Boimler, personal log,

stardate 57601.3.

The Cerritos is in orbit around Mixtus III to assist

in a controlled demolition of an unstable moon.

We're providing support to the Vancouver,

a Parliament-class ship which focuses

on complex, large-scale engineering projects.

Welcome, Captain. Take it in.

One day you could be in command of a vessel like the Vancouver.

Thank you, Captain. This is truly a humbling experience.

You're welcome.

Unfortunately, we might have to cancel the demolition.

- What? Why? - Is the moon too dense?

No, it's more of a diplomatic issue.

Diplomatic? Isn't the moon going to plummet into the planet

- and ignite the atmosphere? - And, you know, kill everyone?

I've told them that many times, but they simply don't care.

- You don't know what you're talking... - Of all the moons we pray to,

that's one of the most important!

It controls the tides for our summer crop.

My family has lived on that moon for generations.

Moons can't plummet. That's something the government

made up to control us.

Ooh, boy.

So the moon's decaying orbit could cause catastrophic

blah, blah, blah, blah, blah... okay, okay.

The real news is I get to have lunch with the coolest,

smartest officer in Starfleet, Barbara Brinson,

who also happens to be my girlfriend.

That's right. Ugh!

We met a month ago and it's just been magical.

Ooh, boy, here we go.

Log number one million about Girlfriend Barb.

You know, I am sorry, but I'm starting to think

that Barb might not actually exist.

Oh, she's real.

She's as real as a hopped-up Q on Captain Picard Day.

Let me guess, when we meet her,

it'll weirdly have to be on the holodeck.

Hey. I don't do that anymore.

- Okay? - Sure you don't, man.

But just so you know, I am still gonna try waving

- my hand through her. - Please don't.

- I'm gonna. - You're gonna hit skin.

Well, if I do, it's the cost of doing business.

Ooh. You smell that, Tendi?

Each ship on the fleet has its own scent.

I think the Cerritos smells like

toasting marshmallows on a cool night.

Is that a plasma fire?

Huh? Oh... uh, uh...

The D53 probably sparked again.

They're so buggy.

Yeah, the whole ship's kind of falling apart.

Yep, this old girl's seen a lot of light-years.

You know, Kula told me the Vancouver

has fluidic processors

that self-replicate their own silicas.

Nuh-uh!

And he said they had tritanium hull brackets.

- And get this: T88s. - That can't be right.

- T88s aren't even out yet. - I know.

It's a starship, not heaven.

I can't believe it.

This is the greatest ship I've ever seen.

Are you kidding me? This is amazing.

Uh, guys? It's basically, like, the same ship as the Cerritos.

Yeah, right.

Ooh, let's go look at their thermal mesh.

I bet it's a double lattice!

Double lattice!

Where's Barb? She said she'd meet me here.

Oh, this is too sad. Hey, look.

I can set you up with somebody great on the Cerritos.

There's that Phylosian in Tactical.

She seems like a nice plant person.

Brad!

Uh, wha... Uh, c-computer, end program.

I missed you so much.

Ugh.

Mmm.

- We kissed, did you see? - Hi. Sorry.

It's been a long month. I'm Lieutenant Barbara Brinson.

Um, yeah... I'm, uh, I'm Beckett Mariner,

- and this is Boimler. - Yeah, I know.

Oh! I can't wait to show you everything.

Come on.

She's a lieutenant?

You know, whatever, it was no big deal.

I managed to reverse the polarity

and reboot the time stream.

Good thing, too, 'cause, oof, 1920s Chicago?

Nobody's washing their hands.

Oh, I love that story, bun-bun.

- Mwah, mwah. - Wow, all that's so amazing.

And now you date Brad.

Ugh, I know. I swore I'd never do long-distance.

But then I met this goofball on Vendu last month.

He radiates a primal confidence. I'm sure you've felt it.

No, I try not to feel anything around Brad.

- Barbasaurus Rex! - Jet?

Get up here. We're gonna be working together.

- Ah! Whoa. - Uh...

- Really? - Okay, you can maybe put her down now.

- Like, anytime. - Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Did you hear some purple people are throwing a tantrum?

Implosion's been postponed.

We got to recalibrate the whole goddamn containment field.

Oh, Boim-Boim.

Looks like I can't do lunch on the Cerritos.

Oh, no, it's fine. It's not like I programmed

a ten-course meal or anything.

Hey. See you in Engineering.

And I'll try not to bring it downtown.

Shut up.

- No, you shut up. - Shut up.

Ow. Ow, no, you shut up. Stop.

Wait, how do you know Jet?

He's, like, the second coolest person on the Cerritos.

Ugh, we dated, like, a billion years ago.

What?

But he's nothing compared to my Bradward.

Oh! Your real name is Bradward?

Yeah, I'm a Bradward. There's Bradleys, there's Bradwards.

It feels so good to be near you.

Mwah!

Well, I got to hand it to you. You were right.

Barb is great.

A little too great.

Hey. Ron Docent. Welcome aboard

the Vancouver.

She's a beaut, isn't she?

Oh, yeah.

So, the captain, your captain,

has ordered us to look for alternatives to implosion.

I'm gonna have you two run diagnostics

on the simulation mainframe.

You both comfortable using T88s?

Yes, sir. So comfortable.

Super comfortable.

Ha. I like that enthusiasm.

Tell you what, whoever finishes first

gets their very own T88.

Wait. You mean, like, we get to keep them?

Or-or is this, like, a borrow thing?

Like, we're gonna have to give them back, right?

Nope. I mean keep, like "you keep it".

- Ah! - Sorry, sir.

Just checking if this is a dream.

I've got a bad feeling about Barb.

I know. I can't believe she used to date Jet!

That guy's like a Kirk sundae with Trip Tucker sprinkles.

I'm not messing around.

Barb is way, way, way out of your league.

Not out of Jet's league. I...

Uh, I-I got to get jacked. Here we go.

Brad, when a Starfleet relationship

seems too good to be true, then...

red alert, man... it probably is.

You think she's cheating on me?!

No! I think she's a secret alien who's gonna eat you

or a Romulan spy or a salt succubus

or an android or a changeling

or one of those sexy people in rompers

that murders you just for going on the grass!

Whoa, whoa, whoa, I'm sorry, you're saying

that because Barb is awesome and hot and dating me

that she's an alien?

That is messed up, Mariner!

That is not cool.

This is real, Bradward.

I have seen stuff, man.

Like back when I was serving on the Quito...

You guys...

Ooh, you hear what happened on the Enterprise?

Apparently, Data's got an evil twin brother

who teamed up with the Borg.

Crazy, right?

What? Man, it's like a new thing every week with those guys.

Right. Like, leave some unknown for the rest of us.

Aw, you guys are such a great couple.

Oh, what can I say?

I found the perfect guy.

Look, I'm not perfect, okay?

But I do have the perfect friends.

Uh, no, Niko, you are the nicest, smartest,

handsomest guy on this ship.

I mean, it's either that

or you're a Harvongian shape-changer.

I mean, you're too handsome.

Niko?

No!

Shape-changer!

Angie!

No...!

I'm not gonna sit around and let a face get melted. Not again.

You're not leaving my sight, mister.

Every minute Barb spends with Jet

puts me closer to losing her.

I got to do something.

And so do I.

Okay, listen up! We will relocate

three tons of moon dust for people to worship.

The farmers will have gravity systems installed for the tides.

And you three, your ancestral homes

will be relocated to the sixth moon,

which will now technically be the fifth anyway.

Does that work for everyone?

- Yeah. - It works for me.

No, you don't understand.

This moon blocks pollution from Mixtus III

from reaching my people on Mixtus II.

Without this moon, we'll perish.

But if we don't destroy it,

the folks on Mixtus III will perish.

I know. It's an impossible problem.

Well, we're Starfleet.

Figuring out impossible problems is what we do,

so let's just keep calm and, uh, try

- to think of a solution. - No! If you blow up that moon,

you're murderers! You'll have blood on your hands!

Shut up and let me think!

All right, listen up, everybody.

Each of our orbital platforms will maintain

a tractor spread to control lunar debris.

Ha! "Da Brie"? What is this, a cheese party?

Hey, babe, it's me. Whoop.

Okay, okay. Yep.

- Okay. - Hey, don't worry, buddy. I got it.

All right.

- Thank you, Jet. - No worries.

Uh, Brad, um, what are you doing here?

Oh, you know, just wanted to see my girlfriend do her thang.

Yeah, we're together.

Uh, anyway, getting back to the demo...

Aah!

Aah!

Whoa, whoa, stop it! Stop it!

Turn it off. What are you doing?!

Whoopsies! Sorry. New tricorder.

Okay, she's not an android, 'cause that tone

would have disrupted her positronic brain.

Whatever she is, she's organic. Okay, I have to get a sample.

- Okay, we're gonna... - I got to...

You're gonna leave now.

Sorry, guys. Mariner was just leaving.

Actually, maybe you should go with her.

We've just got a lot to cover.

Oh. But I didn't get to see you do your thang.

So sweet of you to come by.

I'll meet you later in the mess, okay?

Yeah, yeah, no, the mission comes first.

Totally. I'll just, you know...

- What I'm talking about. - Oh.

I hope we never blow up that moon.

These T88s are amazing.

Yeah, they're, like, crazy fast.

How many diagnostics have you run?

15. Oh, when I come back with this baby,

the guys in Engineering are gonna flip.

♪ ♪

Yeah, right. It's gonna be me who takes this back.

I'm gonna blow their minds in Medical.

♪ ♪

Nope.

- 16. - 22.

17, 18...

- 19, 20, 21... - N-N-No!

- Hey, don't you use your implant. - 22...

- That's not fair! - Ooh, 23!

I got to figure this out. I got to... Wait!

Okay, okay, okay. So, Barb's not a Dauphin,

but I haven't ruled her out

as a surgically altered Cardassian spy

or a transporter clone or...

bear with me, bear with me... a Suliban.

Right? Right? A Suliban?

Mariner, stop it. Barb's not a Suliban.

- But how do you know? - She's nothing but a great human lady.

You need to stop spinning out

and accept people for who they are.

Now be quiet. I got to change everything about me

to trick her into thinking I'm something I'm not.

Computer, analyze the coolest people

in Earth history and replicate me an outfit,

boys size small.

♪ ♪

Jet. Ugh, he thinks he's all that.

Well, I can be twice as that. I can be even thatter.

Hey, Barb! Get up in here, girl.

Uh, uh...

How's the view?

That was weird.

Sup, shippies? Anyone want to partake

in a little liquid luncherino?

What are you talking about?

Sip it up.

Replicator, beer, big, hot.

- I mean, cold. Get... Make it cold. - Um,

we're still on duty. What's gotten into you?

This is the real Boimler, baby. Guess you didn't know

you were dating a dude dog who loves... Whoa!

Brad!

Oh, oh! Oh, no.

Oh. Mariner, no!

Ow! What the [BLEEP]? Did you just pull my hair?

Yeah! D... Yeah, did you just pull her hair?

That is messed up, bro. Get out of here

- before I do a citizen's court-martial. - Come on,

- Brad, let me give you a hand. - Don't touch me,

- you big hunk hottie. - Okay,

I don't know what's going on right now.

First, you come in looking sexy as hell,

but then you ruin it by acting all weird.

- I have to go back to work. - I-I'll walk you there.

No! I can walk myself.

Come on, Jet. Walk me.

Okay, good news. Maybe bad news.

I am, like, 99.8% sure she's a reptoid.

Gah, will you just drop it?! Barb is not anything.

- I mean, other than a great lady. - She said you looked sexy.

No, there's no way she's human. That's her tell.

That is a huge tell. Look, if she's a reptoid,

she's gonna need to find a male partner.

Jab with her reptoid tail.

Implant her reptoid spawn. Stay close.

You're safe with me.

Brad! No! Brad!

Sir, the platforms aren't rated for low altitudes.

They'll have to be operated manually.

Maybe the captain's making progress.

You're all murderers! No, you madmen! You'll have blood

- on your hands! - She's doing great.

There you go, Jet. That's it.

Keep pushing it in.

- Are you sure it'll fit? - Huh?

- We'll make it fit. - Aha!

You're not...

Sex? I heard sex.

What?

You have been a jerko all day,

and now you accuse me of cheating?

I'm sorry! I'm sorry. I'm an idiot.

I was freaking out because you're so smart

and pretty and funny, and I'm... I'm just me.

You should be with a guy like Jet.

That's what this has been about?

Bradward, nothing is happening with Jet.

Oh, no, I ruined everything! No! No, no, no!

It's all dissolving. It's all dissolving.

Look, I fell for you because you're you.

A sweet, nervous, dainty-hipped nugget.

Let's try to start today over.

Watch out for the tail!

Mariner!

- What's your problem? - Where's-where's the tail?

Reptoids implant with a barbed tail. They...

Her name is Barb!

Mariner, what the hell? I told you.

I just... I thought...

I thought there was a tail.

Lieutenant Brinson,

report to Orbital Platform Gamma.

We need manual activation.

Right away, Commander.

- Hey, come with me? - Love to.

Seems like a good way to start the day over.

With my human girlfriend!

How was I so wrong?

Huh? Ugh.

Oh, what?

Exoskeletal husk?

I wasn't wrong! Barb's a parasite!

Bradward! Bradward, wait!

Bradward! Get out of my way.

Move! Move, Jennifer.

Bradward! Bradward, wait!

Bradward!

- Where's Ron? I want my T88. - You wouldn't even know what

to do with a T88. Besides, they're way better for Medical.

- What? That's not true. - You know what I could do with that?

- You know what I could do with it? - I could solve problems.

I could figure out when people are sick.

Oh, yeah? I could solve problems.

- I could... - This is great work.

And you finished at the exact same time.

Looks like you're both joining the Vancouver.

- Congratulations! - Wait.

What do you mean, joining the Vancouver?

I told you, whoever finished first would get to keep the T88

and use it here. On the Vancouver.

We-we thought we'd get to take it back to the Cerritos.

Hang tight. I'm gonna write up the transfer.

Don't worry, the admiral used to be my grandma's neighbor.

Quiet guy. He'll push it right through.

Computer, locate Boimler.

Oh, crap, crap, crap, crap.

Requesting emergency transport to Platform Gamma.

Authorization, uh, Mariner 8.

Request denied. Is that a made-up code?

- Who is this? Clear this channel! - Aah!

Bradward.

Bradward! Bradward, wait!

Oh, no.

Oh, no, I got to get to Bradward.

Oh, no. Oh, no, Bradward.

Captain's log. Long-range sensors

have located a very sexy...

- Mariner! Aah! Stop looking at me! - Oh, no! Definitely, no!

- Stop looking at me! - No. No to this and also that.

Get out of here! Barb'll be back any second.

This is me sex time, okay?

Look at this! It's the husk of a neural parasite.

- I don't care! I'm naked. - You're not listening!

Barb is a parasite. She's a-a creature of some sort.

All right. Two for emergency...

Hey, give it back!

You'd rather make a fake husk than admit that you were wrong?

Terrible! Shame on you.

It has been a long time since I've taken a lover,

let alone a lover like Barb.

I am staying here,

and I am making love to my lover.

Oh, please stop saying "lover".

Warning. Platform approaching

- critical altitude. - Whoa!

Boimler!

Stay away from him!

The Vancouver is awesome.

The fluidic processors, the tritanium hull brackets,

the door whoosh.

Whoosh.

Honestly, the Cerritos might be falling apart,

but that's kind of awesome, too.

It's our job to keep it together.

Yeah, and the way that she shakes and creaks

and moans at Warp 7?

I bet the Vancouver doesn't do that.

With those inertial dampers?

You got to be kidding me.

And you know what the Vancouver doesn't have?

All our friends.

We have to tell Ron we're staying here.

What if, what if he gets mad at us?

He's a professional. Professionals don't get pissed.

- What?! - I'm sorry,

but we want to stay on the Cerritos.

Tough! I already wrote up the transfer.

As soon as I click this button, it's going through.

Wait a second, you can't just transfer us against our will!

Watch me. Do I need to remind you

who my grandma's neighbor was?

I guess I do... it was the admiral!

And he's a psycho.

Hey, you can't do that!

Don't kick me PADD! That's an order!

Aah!

Hey, got it!

Get back here!

Don't kill my people!

You're the Federation!

You're the good guys!

Remember the Prime Directive?

What? That doesn't even apply here!

Captain, we're running out of time.

The flooding has already started and the platforms

weren't designed for this.

I'm not letting you hurt Boimler!

I'm protecting him!

- From what? - Hyah!

From you! You really think I'd buy you guys are best friends?

He's mousey, sweet and soft

and you're a badass space adventurer!

I knew there was something wrong

from the moment I met you.

Yeah, no, something's wrong with you.

First, I thought you were a rogue holodeck character.

Then, because of the way you were lurking around all day,

I thought you were a Breen infiltrator.

What? That wasn't lurking... that was protecting!

Finally I realized you're probably a parasite!

Bitch, you're the parasite!

Exactly what a parasite would say, parasite!

- Give me back my PADD! - Let's go!

Do not get on that turbolift!

Here's the plan... I'll reroute the turbolift controls.

You try to guess his passcode!

Give me back my PADD!

The impact on our environment would affect both of us!

We'd have to move our whole civilization!

I know! But how can...?

Wait, "both"? What do you, what do you mean "both"?

How many people are in your civilization?

- Me and my wife. - There are two [BLEEP] people

on your whole [BLEEP] planet?!

Well, yes, we're, uh, we're rich.

Implode the moon.

- Yes, Captain. - You maniacs!

We just redid the floors!

This isn't over.

You don't know Boimler like I do.

He will figure you out.

I mean, sometimes it takes him a minute.

Hell, on Sendu IV, it took him a week to realize

he was peeing in their species' sinks and not their toilets,

but you know what, he gets there eventually.

Wait, that was him?

He told me that happened to a friend.

Yeah, he wishes.

No, someone came in to wash their hands,

and just caught him going right in the sink.

You know what? On our second date,

he "shook hands" with a Lortian's egg sac.

Oh, stop!

It was so pissed.

Okay, and then, and then Sqill looked at Boimler

and said, "That's my dorsal".

You guys have been through a lot together.

Yeah, I mean he is a dork, for sure.

But he's my dork.

Well, you're clearly not a parasite,

or you wouldn't have let him [BLEEP] in front of the admiral.

Uh, well, thanks, and, you know,

you're not seeming so much like a parasite, either, by the way.

Hey, if it's gonna make you feel better, just scan me.

You are a human, yep.

Man, I mean, you ever get those feelings

like you are just sure about something?

Like, I was sure you were a parasite.

But you're actually a very nice,

attractive human woman.

Uh-oh.

- Aah! - This isn't me!

I don't want to stun you.

- Then don't! - Come on, come on!

Give me back my PADD!

Look, just hand me the phaser... ow!

Oh, my God, you made me stun you!

I can't feel my hand!

Oh, God, oh, God! What have I done?

- Ow! - I got the password... it was "Riker".

No, no, no, no, no! Don't read that!

What the heck?

You're transferring yourself to the Cerritos?

I thought we could swap places.

You don't know what it's like here!

It's so stressful! It's so epic!

It's all, "Tow this space station",

and, "Calibrate the Dyson sphere!"

"Go back in time and kill the guy that was worse than Hitler!"

I just want to be back on a smaller ship,

doing simpler work.

I don't want to be epic anymore!

Geez, working on the Vancouver screws you up.

I'm sorry I phasered you.

This is not Ron Emmanuel Docent, Jr.

Can we just keep this between us?

You'll delete the transfer order?

There. Done.

And, um, throw in a T88 for each of us.

Hey, now, that I can't do.

Oh, that's cool. It wasn't like I was using my implant

to record all this as evidence for your court-martial.

I was.

Okay, a couple of T88s coming right up.

Ooh! Ugh!

It's squishy! Give me a hand!

Oh, my God!

Stop! Don't! Lover! Lover!

Lover! Lover! Lover! Lover! Lover!

Oh, God.

Aah! What the hell was that?

It was always me, Barb.

I'm going to treat you to dinner.

Let me out! Let me out!

Hmm, apparently, this species reproduces

by making their host chemically irresistible

to potential mates.

So Boimler must have picked it up...

Right before he met me, exactly.

Wait. Wait.

So are you saying you only liked me because of the parasite?

Please. I'm a Starfleet officer.

You think I'd be into a guy just because of his pheromones?

Oh, thank God. I was worried you were gonna break up with me.

Yeah, listen, Brad, you're sweet,

but right now, I need to put all my energy into my job.

Specifically, studying this fascinating parasite.

Lover! Lover! Lover! Lover! Lover!

- Lover! Lover! Lover! Lover! - Mwah.

- Lover! Lover! Lover! Lover! - Aw.

She did break up with me.

Hey, you'll find someone who loves you

without a googa attached to your skull.

You're just saying that.

No, I'm not. You're a catch, man.

- You're real. - I am real.

Hey, Mare, see you next month at the M'tari tournament?

Oh, you know it, and I'll try not to bring it downtown.

Oh, shut up.

Wait. You guys made plans?

We bonded while you were knocked out.

- Over what? - Nothing. Just girl stuff.

So you shook a Lortian's egg sack?

Wait, how did...? Oh. Oh, no! Oh, no!

Aah.

The Cerritos might be falling apart,

but it's nice to be back home.

Yeah, I missed that smoky smell.

So, uh, hey, um, before we left the Vancouver,

I got you something.

You shouldn't have!

Well, I figured the Cerritos could use them

- a lot more than... - No, no, no.

I mean, look, I stole a bunch, too.

Yup, this...

this is why we're friends.

Sync & corrections by Costa Dax www.addic7ed.com

Pew, pew, pew, pew, pew.

Chirp.