All language subtitles for Star.Trek.Enterprise.S02E04_track3_und

ARCHER:
Captain's starlog, supplemental.

It's been almost four days since
the incident in the Romulan minefield.

Repair teams have been
working around the clock.

Nerves are definitely frayed.

It's incredible we're still in one piece.

If that mine had hit
another meter to the left...

We can't polarize the port bow plating
until those breaches are sealed.

What's your guess?

Assuming we can find
some tritanium alloy?

Three or four months.

And with this kind of damage,
the best I can give you is

warp 2, maybe 2.1.

In other words we're...

...a decade away
from Jupiter Station.

What about the transceiver array?

The subspace antenna's damaged.

All we've got is short range.

We've answered enough calls for help
over the past year.

It's time someone
returned the favor.

You serious?

[RADIO BEEPS]

Archer to Ensign Sato.

HOSHI [OVER RADIO]:
Go ahead, sir.

I want you to get started
on a general distress call.

Assistance required, minor repairs.

- Don't go into too much detail.
HOSHI: Understood, sir.

Archer, out.

You're killing me! Unh!

PHLOX:
Push, lieutenant.

Two more seconds

and rest.

[GRUNTS]

It can't be ethical to cause
a patient this much pain.

It's unethical to harm a patient,

I can inflict as much pain as I like.

A positive attitude is vital
to the healing process.

The more you complain, the longer
your recovery is likely to take.

[GROANS]

When will I be able
to return to duty?

Another week, possibly two.

Two weeks?

Attitude, lieutenant.

Your wound might heal faster

if you'd allow me to apply
a few more Regulan blood worms.

Oh, you're not putting any more
of those things inside my leg.

You still haven't found the last one.

He'll come out on his own,
eventually.

[GROANS]

[METAL SQUEAKING]

Did you hear that?

I don't believe it.

Trip told me he fixed that squeak.

[INTERCOM CHIMES]

Go ahead.

T'POL: Captain, we're receiving
a response to the distress call.

It's a Tellarite freighter.

Put them through.

This is Captain Archer
of the starship Enterprise.

Thank you for responding.

MAN [OVER RADIO]:
How may we be of assistance?

We need help in repairing
some hull damage.

If you can rendezvous with us,

- we'd be happy to discuss...
MAN: Schedule will not permit...

The signal is...

I'm sorry, sir,
they're barely within range.

Can you repeat?

MAN:
Transmitting coordinates...

Repair station at...

[STATIC OVER RADIO]

Sounded like he said
"repair station."

We've received a set of coordinates.

What do you know
about these Tellarites?

They're not
the most agreeable species,

but they're usually trustworthy.

The coordinates are three
and a half days away at warp 2.

I think it's worth a look.

MAYWEATHER:
Aye, sir.

ARCHER: This is Captain Archer
of the starship Enterprise.

We need to make some repairs.

I was told you might be willing
to help us.

We'd be grateful
for any assistance you could offer.

Please respond.

Nothing.

ARCHER:
Bio-signs?

None that I can detect.

Maybe it's abandoned.

We might be able to board it,

salvage some of the materials
we need.

Doesn't seem that Enterprise
could fit inside those docking berths.

What's it look like inside?

I'm detecting
a liquid helium atmosphere.

The temperature is
270 degrees below zero.

[COMPUTER BEEPING]

A bio-molecular probe.

Sir.

It's reconfiguring
to fit the saucer section.

The liquid helium
is being replaced

by a warmer oxygen-nitrogen
atmosphere.

Still no response to our hails.

It appears
an invitation's been extended.

They need to work a little
on their hospitality.

I don't see that we have
a lot of options.

Take us in.

TRIP:
They've isolated every hull breach,

every damaged system.

I'll be damned.

We scratched the hull right there
a year ago.

I bumped it with the inspection pod,
remember?

I thought I told you
to have that repainted.

Well, I was getting around to it.

Everything's in English.

The ship wasn't
the only thing they probed.

I think that's Malcolm.

That's where his left leg was injured.

This facility may have the technology
to repair Mr. Reed as well.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE: The analysis
of your vessel is complete.

Select a method of compensation
to begin the repair process.

Who am I speaking with?

COMPUTERIZED VOICE:
Your inquiry was not recognized.

Is there someone here
I can speak with?

COMPUTERIZED VOICE:
Your inquiry was not recognized.

I don't think
there's anyone back there.

Perhaps the station's automated.

Are you saying you can repair
all our systems?

COMPUTERIZED VOICE: Select
a method of compensation to begin.

We can give them
either three warp coils,

five deuterium injectors
or 200 liters of warp plasma.

I wouldn't recommend giving up
any hardware we can't replace.

Plasma?

I think we can spare it.

If we agree to these terms,
how long will the repairs take?

COMPUTERIZED VOICE:
Time to completion:

34.2 Earth hours.

I'm telling you,
the boys at Jupiter Station

would take three months.

It's a fair exchange.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE:
Select a method of compensation

to begin the repair process.

Compensation will be due
when the repairs are completed.

Your vessel will
then disengage immediately.

All personnel are required
to vacate areas

that are undergoing reconstruction.

ARCHER:
Look at this.

It's the repair schedule.

Transmit it to Hoshi
and have her inform the crew.

[STATION WHIRRING]

MAYWEATHER:
Enterprise to Captain Archer.

Go ahead.

Some kind of mechanical arms
are being attached to the outer hull.

It's all right, Travis. Stand by.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE:
The recreation facility is now available

to all personnel.

Enjoy your visit.

If this is their idea
of a recreation facility,

we might wanna ask
for our plasma back.

[TABLE WHIRRING]

A matter-energy converter.

It could be a transporter.

An awfully small one.

I believe it's a molecular synthesizer
of some kind.

Similar to a protein resequencer,

but far more advanced.
A water, cold.

I saw a similar device
on a Tarkalean vessel.

It was capable of replicating
almost any inanimate object.

TRIP: If we had
one of these in Engineering,

we could make
all the spare parts we need.

I wonder what else is on the menu.

One pan-fried catfish.

Smells like the real thing.

Well?

Not bad.

I doubt there's a catfish
within a hundred and 30 light years.

It's genome is stored in Enterprise's
computer, as is the recipe.

The station evidently scanned
our database.

It would have been nice
to have been asked.

I can only imagine what else
this thing knows about us.

Captain, you've gotta try this.

Thanks, but I'll stick
with whatever chef's serving.

I'll be on the Bridge.

TRIP:
Hmm.

Are you sure this thing knows
what it's doing?

That's the third time you've asked.

You didn't answer me
the first two times.

It's remarkable.

Your cells are regenerating
at an exponential rate.

Do you see how it's using
a cytokinetic enzyme

to stimulate the cell division.

Lovely.

I could certainly use
a device like this. Heh.

Perhaps the captain could, uh,
negotiate a trade of some sort.

The tissue is completely healed.

Even the scar is gone. Heh.

Try standing up.

- Any pain?
- None. Heh.

[DOOR CHIMES]

ARCHER:
Come in.

Repairs are currently underway
on C-Deck.

Work on Launch Bay 1 is
scheduled to begin at 2200 hours.

They even fixed the squeak
in the floor.

I was starting to wonder if we had
a gremlin under the deck plating.

A mythical creature.

British pilots used to blame them
for problems they couldn't explain.

Perhaps I should scan for one.

That won't be necessary.

Is Trip happy
with how the repairs are going?

He says they're exceeding
Starfleet specifications.

That's good to hear.

Anything else?

If I may make an observation?

- Go ahead.
- You seem troubled.

I guess I need to do a better job
at repressing my emotions.

These repairs are
one hell of a bargain

at only 200 liters of warp plasma,
don't you think?

Not every culture is based
on the acquisition of wealth.

The station's builders could simply
have been interested in helping others.

ARCHER:
What happened to them?

They could have
at least left a message,

"Thanks for stopping by."

Perhaps they prefer anonymity.

Don't you find that
a little suspicious?

I know you don't put a lot of faith
in your feelings,

but I've learned to trust mine.

Something doesn't smell right.

[CHATTERING AND LAUGHING]

MAN:
Oh, my God.

REED: Honestly, I started to feel
a little sorry for the doctor.

There wasn't anything for him to do but
stand there and watch this thing work.

I know how he must have felt.

I saw an entire transtator assembly
replaced in 15 minutes.

It would have taken my crew a week.

With this kind of technology,

Starfleet could build ships
that maintain themselves.

They wouldn't need chief engineers
or tactical officers.

A starship without a tactical officer?
I can't say I see the point.

TRIP: You'd think a computer
that can do all this

would have to be pretty big.

Our computer is
the most advanced in the fleet,

and it's three decks high.

Well, I suppose you're right.

So where is it?

I don't follow.

I ran a scan of the station
a few hours ago.

These are the docking berths.

We're here.

This is the diagnostic room.

Well, that compartment's
the only place it could be,

but it's barely
half the size of this one.

A machine capable of billions
of calculations every nanosecond,

and it can fit inside
the proverbial breadbox.

REED:
Hmm.

I'd love to get a look at that.

- You could always ask.
TRIP: I tried.

"Your inquiry was not recognized."

[CHUCKLES]

- Well, I guess that's that.
- Not necessarily.

This cooling duct runs all the way
to the center of the station.

I saw an access port
in one of the corridors.

This computer might not take kindly
to people snooping around.

I haven't seen any
no trespassing signs.

We're explorers.

Where's your spirit of adventure?

I left it in a Romulan minefield.

Almost.

Got it.

If the captain learns about this,

we'll both be scrubbing
plasma conduits for a month.

[BOTH GRUNTING]

[INTERCOM CHIMES]

- Mayweather.
ARCHER: Travis, it's the captain.

Would you mind coming down
to Launch Bay 1?

I thought that section was off-limits,
sir.

ARCHER: Not anymore.
I could use a hand, ensign.

Aye, sir.

Are you sure
this is the right direction?

[ALARM WAILING]

Evening, sub-commander.

Captain?

Hello?

[ELECTRICITY CRACKLING]

Do you know how stupid
that little stunt was?

You could just have easily
been transported out into space.

You're senior officers.

You're supposed to be setting
an example for the rest of the crew.

It was my idea, sir.

I think Lieutenant Reed is old enough
to make his own decisions.

You've made it clear to me
that you think

discipline aboard Enterprise
has gotten a little too lax.

I'm beginning to agree with you.

You're both restricted to quarters
until further notice. Dismissed.

- Yes, sir.
- Aye, sir.

ARCHER:
Hold on.

Did you notice anything interesting
when you were in there?

Depends on what you mean
by interesting.

[INTERCOM BEEPS]

T'POL [OVER INTERCOM]:
T'Pol to Captain Archer.

Go ahead.

T'POL:
You're needed in Launch Bay 1,

immediately.

What happened?

He's dead, captain.

PHLOX: These subcutaneous burns
are consistent with an isolytic shock,

but I can't be certain
until I perform a full post-mortem.

I'll keep you apprised.

Looks like he was trying to tap into the
EPS grid when this relay overloaded.

Why the hell would he come
down here during his off-hours

and start tampering
with the power systems?

I don't get it.

Travis would have checked with me
before doing any maintenance.

ARCHER:
Did you notify the crew

- that this section was off-limits?
- Yes.

Well, apparently somebody
didn't get the message.

- What time did he go off duty?
- 1800 hours.

Malcolm and I saw him on
the station about a half an hour later.

He was having dinner with Hoshi.

Talk to her.
See if he said anything about this.

And go over the com logs.

I wanna know
if he talked to anyone else.

It might be a good idea
to check his quarters as well.

Post a security detail outside
every section that's under repair.

Aye, sir.

A member of my crew is dead.

We don't know what happened.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE:
Your inquiry was not recognized.

My helmsman was killed

in Launch Bay 1.

We think it happened
while that section was off-limits.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE: All
personnel are required to vacate areas

that are undergoing reconstruction.

We're aware of that.

You must have some

kind of record of what happened.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE: All
personnel are required to vacate areas

that are undergoing reconstruction.

I need to talk to a person.

Someone who can access
your database

and tell me what happened.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE:
Your inquiry was not recognized.

Who built this station?
What species?

COMPUTERIZED VOICE:
Your inquiry was not recognized.

What species?

COMPUTERIZED VOICE:
Any damage to these facilities

will be charged to your vessel.

PHLOX:
Computer, begin recording.

Subject's name:
Ensign Travis Mayweather,

human male.

Weight: 72 kilograms.
Age: 26 Earth years.

Far too young to be on this table.

Cellular decay suggests

that death occurred
at approximately 2330 hours.

Preliminary cause of death,

ventricular fibrillation
induced by an isolytic shock.

The vascular system appears

to have functioned as a conduit
for the discharge.

The musculature shows
extensive necrosis

along the conductive pathway.

There are subcutaneous burns over
approximately 12 percent of the body.

The right phalanges
and metacarpus

exhibit signs
of multiple thermal fractures.

Computer, pause.

Ensign?

This is not an ideal time.

I wanted to say goodbye.

You may find this disturbing.

I've seen a body before.
Fifteen of them on that alien ship.

It's different when it's someone
you know personally.

I was hoping it was another one
of his practical jokes.

Travis called me down to decon
a few weeks ago.

Said that he'd brought

some kind
of gelatinous life-form aboard.

He said it might be sentient

and that the captain needed me to
figure out how to communicate with it.

Hmm. I don't recall that.

There was no life-form.

It was only strawberry gelatin.

I told him I was gonna get him back.

I'm sorry.

It might comfort you
to know he felt very little pain.

An isolytic shock
instantly impairs the, uh...

The nervous...

That's odd.

What?

They're dead.

All of them.

Excuse me, ensign.

Anything?

No.

It doesn't look like Travis used
the com system last night.

Crewman Hayes said she passed him
on his way to the launch bay,

but they didn't speak.

She said he seemed
to be in quite a hurry.

What's this?

It's a letter

to his sister.

It was on the monitor
when I came in.

I'm afraid there isn't much here.

You mentioned something about
canceling breakfast with him.

That was last week.

I had to postpone it.

Have we been able
to locate his parents?

Sub-Commander T'Pol's working on it,
but it could take some time.

Cargo ships aren't always easy
to track down.

[INTERCOM CHIMES]

Archer.

PHLOX: It's Dr. Phlox, captain.
I need to see you right away.

Did you find something?

As a matter of fact, I did.

This is not Ensign Mayweather.

- What?
- It's a nearly-perfect replica.

I've never seen a life-form duplicated
in such extraordinary detail,

from its epidermis
down to its cellular proteins.

This is remarkable work.

If it's so perfect,
how do you know it's not him?

PHLOX: Do you recall
what happened to Crewman Fisher

after our visit to Tessik Prime?

He came down with Rigelian fever.

I inoculated the entire crew
to prevent an outbreak.

Would you mind, uh, rolling up
your sleeve? Ahem.

The vaccine contained millions
of genetically-altered microbes.

Most of them
are still in your bloodstream.

They typically survive for, uh...

Oh, at least several weeks.

Every one of the alien microbes
in this body is dead.

Couldn't they have been killed
by the isolytic shock?

These microbes thrive
on isolytic energy.

If anything,
they would have multiplied.

I believe that someone,
or something,

has abducted Ensign Mayweather

and left this, uh,
facsimile in his place.

Apparently bulkheads aren't
the only thing this station can replicate.

PHLOX:
It's ironic, in a way.

The station can duplicate a dead
human body in all its exquisite detail,

yet a living,
simple one-celled organism

is beyond its capability.

I've located
Ensign Mayweather's parents.

You'd better hold off.

Their son may still be alive.

You and Trip managed to get
pretty far inside the station.

How close do you think
you got to the computer core?

We were within 20 meters
when we tripped the sensors.

Think you could find
a way to get past them?

I believe so.

Our repairs will be complete
in 19 minutes.

The station's expecting us to depart.

ARCHER:
Bridge to Engineering.

TRIP:
Tucker here.

Trip, have you prepared
our payment?

The canisters are almost ready, sir.

ARCHER [OVER RADIO]:
Don't be in such a hurry.

[GRUNTS[

Phew.

Two hundred liters of warp plasma,
as promised.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE:
Please place your compensation

on the transport platform.

Hold on, hold on.

There's a couple of problems
we need to discuss first.

Now, I'm not real happy
with the quality of some of your work.

You listening to me?

COMPUTERIZED VOICE:
Please place your compensation

on the transport platform.

I've looked at the bolt couplings
you used to attach the new hull plating.

I'm afraid they're not up
to Starfleet specs.

And the subspace amplifier
you repaired,

we're picking up distortion
on all the high-band frequencies.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE:
Please place your compensation

on the transport platform.

We're not paying
until we sort this out.

[GRUNTS]

What guarantee do I have

that these duranium pins won't fly out
the instant we jump to warp?

COMPUTERIZED VOICE:
Your inquiry was not recognized.

On my world,

we have an expression.

Customer's always right.

Maybe you should make that
part of your program.

I wanna know how someone
files a grievance around here.

It's there. About five meters.

[ALARM WAILING]

Sounds like, uh, you've got
more important things to deal with.

[ALARM WAILING]

COMPUTERIZED VOICE: Incursion
detected in primary data core.

Vacate this section
or your vessel will be compromised.

I'm detecting one human bio-sign.

ARCHER:
Are they alive?

Their vital organs
appear to be functioning.

They've suffered
severe neurological damage.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE: Incursion
detected in primary data core.

Vacate this section or your vessel
will be compromised.

T'POL: Their synaptic pathways
have been reconfigured,

integrated into the computer core.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE: Incursion
detected in primary data core.

Vacate this section or your vessel
will be compromised.

Captain.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE: Incursion
detected in primary data core.

Vacate this section or your vessel
will be compromised.

[ARCHER GRUNTS]

Three of the station's arms
just clamped onto the hull.

Polarize the hull plating.

- There's no effect.
- Standby weapons.

[COMPUTER BEEPING]

They're going off-line.

The station's tapped
into the ship's umbilical ports.

It's overriding
our command functions.

Try to lock out the main computer.

I can't. Our access codes
have been scrambled.

ARCHER: It's okay, Travis.
We're taking you home.

Right here.

[ALARM WAILING]

- Archer to the Bridge.
- The com's down.

- Travis?
- On his way to Sickbay.

- What's our status?
- It's been better.

The station's got us by the thrusters.

Impulse engines?

Off-line.

We're losing main power.

Life support's failing.

Malcolm, I think it's time
we deliver our payment.

[BEEPING]

It did some heavy damage, sir.

Power levels are dropping.

But the plasma hasn't ignited
the O-2 conduits yet.

It needs to reach
3000 degrees, Malcolm.

- Be patient.
REED: Yes, sir.

[COMPUTER BEEPING]

I'm reading secondary explosions
throughout the station.

Command functions
are coming back online.

- Engines?
- Impulse and thrusters.

One of those arms
is still locked onto the hull.

If we don't disengage soon,
we'll be incinerated.

- Full thrusters.
- It's no good.

If I fired up the impulse engines,

we'd probably tear off
half the saucer section.

- Can you launch a torpedo?
- At this range,

I wouldn't recommend it.

I agree, but I don't think
we have much choice.

One more, lieutenant.

Get us out of here.

You look pretty good for a dead guy.

How are you feeling?

Much better, sir.

Thank you.

The doctor told me what happened.

I'm not sure I understand.

We're still trying to figure that out
for ourselves.

I may be able to shed some light
on the subject.

It seems to be
some kind of interface

designed to convert neural impulses
into binary code.

Essentially, the station
was using your brain

to enhance its processing power.

Why would it do that?

The cerebral cortex is

the most sophisticated computer
known to exist.

What about all those other people?

According to T'Pol's scans,
most of them had been there for years.

The damage
to their brains was irreversible.

Fortunately, you were removed
before any permanent injury occurred.

When can I have
my helmsman back?

I'd like to, uh, observe him
for another 24 hours, if you don't mind.

Captain's mess.

Friday morning, 0800.

Don't be late.

Sounds good, sir.