Original subtitles

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

[soaring orchestral music]

♪ ♪

- Dal's personal log.

Stardate 61945.4.

We finally made it back to "Voyager."

It seems strange, though.

Everything looks the same, but it feels different.

Maybe we're the ones who changed.

We went through a lot to get the "Protostar" back

after it was lost in time.

[Gillian hums]

We faced the unexpected.

[Gillian chirps]

Made some new friends.

Our journey left a few bumps and bruises too.

But when we had nothing else, we had each other.

And I realized,

maybe home isn't always a place.

It's the people you trust the most.

Lucky for us, we have Starfleet.

Thanks to their knowhow and an antivirus upgrade,

the weapon on the "Protostar" is no threat to them.

Janeway and "Voyager's" top minds are helping us

find a way to send our old ship back in time

to Tars Lamora, where we first found it,

so we can fix the past, heal Gwyn,

and save the present,

and look out for each other a little longer.

[dramatic music]

- Tighten into a triad formation.

- On it. 13 meters apart.

- Good. Maintain your distance.

- You hear that, Grom?

Let's cut the chitchat and concentrate.

- [grunts]

- Excellent.

Beginning a z-plus 75-degree climb.

Now open your coolant interlocks.

- Opening coolant now.

♪ ♪

- Begin Boothby Supernova in three...

- Two...

What is this? - Huh?

- Hey. Sorry I'm late. - [groans]

- Though it looks like you started without me.

- Computer, end program.

Why are you here?

You don't have the qualifications

to be in Starfleet Academy training modules.

- I invited Dal.

- Ugh, perfect.

- After seeing his performance in the field,

I believed it would be

a mutually beneficial experience.

- [laughs] I've done some training solo,

but I'm excited to learn from the best.

- Uh, kay.

- Computer, restart training program.

- This organic matrix is remarkable,

unlike any I've seen.

I only wish I had better news.

- Come on, Doc!

Stop dancing around it and give it to us straight.

- Please.

How bad is the prognosis?

- Even with my expertise,

the damage is irreparable.

Much more, and this body will cease function entirely.

- And never feel again.

I knew this day would come, but it is no less devastating.

I'd hoped there was still some distant possibility.

- Oh, there is.

As your Tellarite friend has said many a time,

if we can't fix it, we make a new one.

- Huh?

- With Starfleet's recent advances

in artificial physiology, an upgrade could

recreate tactile sensations in whatever form you wish.

- So I could look like me and feel like me.

How joyous!

And terrifying.

- Indeed.

You would retain all such sensations,

the good and bad.

Are you certain that is what you want?

- What is life, if not a balance of both?

More than anything, Doctor, I just want to feel like me.

- Very well.

I'll contact the Daystrom Institute

right away.

- Actually, Doctor, I'd prefer Mr. Pog

to oversee the project.

- [laughs nervously]

Z, you're not thinking straight!

- Your skills are unparalleled, and I'd hoped

you could give it the old Jankom touch.

- Aww, now Jankom Pog is touched.

- Ah, youthful camaraderie.

It's settled then.

I'll send over some schematics to get started.

- [laughs] So exhilarating!

A new life of unknown possibilities awaits.

[soft dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- Been a while since my last Starfleet debrief.

I may be a little rusty.

- You'll be fine, but don't forget--

dress code.

Admiral's orders.

- I remember the first time we saw one of these combadges.

It was our last day on "Voyager" together.

Our "Voyager," I mean.

- Who could forget?

It's not every day you meet a version of yourself

from the future, and she blasts you

back to the Alpha Quadrant.

[both laugh]

Strange to think my uniform is so similar to hers now.

- She did give us the designs.

Either way, I think it suits you.

It's funny.

You traveled across time to get "Voyager" home safe,

and I did the same with the "Protostar."

- Just like old times.

- Only I'm not your number one anymore.

And this isn't the old "Voyager."

- Nothing stays the same forever.

I'm looking forward to what comes next.

♪ ♪

Apologies for the delay, Admiral.

- Our time-lost captain returns.

Chakotay, must be good to be home.

- [clears throat]

Ten years is a long time on that island.

- But we're glad to have him back,

especially for the mission to come.

This "Protostar" doesn't belong in our time.

It threatens the fabric of reality

and endangers my crew.

- The question is, how do we send it back to the past

without causing further damage to the timestream?

- Mr. Tysess believes if "Voyager" can

reopen the wormhole near Solum,

the exit may lead to Tars Lamora--

- Sorry to interrupt, Vice Admiral,

but I have to stop you right there.

Starfleet command has discussed it,

and we will be taking over

the "Protostar" mission from here.

- With respect, Admiral, is that necessary?

We've come this far.

- And we can't afford another crisis.

Starfleet's already spread too thin

by the Romulan evacuation,

damaged fleets from the Living Construct,

A500 androids barely keeping member worlds going--

- So let us finish what we started.

- You're too close to it,

and I've seen how it clouds your judgment.

Your orders are to escort the Protostar to Earth.

The Department of Temporal Investigations

will handle the rest.

- What about our crew? - Reassigned.

Janeway will return to her desk,

and those would-be cadets will be taken off ship

and reevaluated.

[alert chimes]

Sorry, another crisis calls.

We'll see you in San Francisco.

- Not the welcome home I expected.

- I have a duty to my crew.

I'm not keen on putting our fates

in the hands of bureaucrats.

Options?

- I hate to say it, but Jellico may be right.

We can't go rogue again.

- I see.

And you, Chakotay?

- I agree.

We're too close.

It's been a long road, Admiral.

Maybe it's time our journey finally ends.

- [sighs] - The mission's over?

Aww!

- This feels rather abrupt.

We risked life and limb finding our old ship.

- Seeing the mission through would be a logical conclusion.

- Does Starfleet understand

Gwyn's very existence depends on it?

- [sighs] I expect so.

They merely trust their own to finish the job

over a few Starfleet Academy hopefuls.

- Don't worry.

Jankom's sure they'll open a Special Rogue Misfit Division

just for us.

- I don't understand.

Wesley said that we're important.

- Ha!

Maybe we were.

But let's face it.

Our role here is done.

- We rescued Chakotay and found the "Protostar."

This Special Rogue Misfit Division should be proud.

I mean, sure, I wish it could have been us

to fix our mistakes.

- You mean "unexpected variables."

- But fixing time is a big job.

And if there's a risk of losing Gwyn,

I'm happy the Federation's taking over.

- You're right.

This is bigger than any of us now.

- Commander Tysess to Gwyn.

You're needed on the bridge.

It is urgent.

- On my way.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- Mr. Tysess, what's the situation?

- Someone's tapped into the Watson Subspace Relays.

We're receiving a long-range transmission

from a downed Starfleet shuttle on Solum.

- Expecting a call?

Put it through.

[static crackling]

- Hello? - [gasps]

- Hello? Can anyone hear me?

- Ilthuran!

- [gasps] Gwyndala.

Oh, bless the stars.

You're all right.

I'm not too late.

- This is "Voyager."

Is something wrong? Do you need assistance?

- It's Asencia.

She's assumed power-- too much power.

And now a war is coming for you.

- What's happened?

- The council is no more.

Asencia's harnessed new technology I've never seen,

building military forces at an unfathomable rate.

- No.

- My contacts in the uprising sent me

these disturbing visuals.

Within those domes, months go by,

while outside, merely hours.

A fleet constructed in no time.

Who knows what other weapons she's devised.

- How is this possible?

- Even in Solum's future, the Vau N'Akat have never

possessed that kind of time manipulation.

- So the question is, where is she getting

this technology from?

[blasters firing]

- Ah! They found me.

[explosion booms]

- Father!

[static crackling]

[gasps]

- Asencia.

- Hello, Admiral.

Reporting for duty?

And Gwyn, still alive, I see.

I never thanked you for my trophy.

- If you do anything to him--

- Oh, yes. That reminds me.

Thank you, Ilthuran.

Now I have their subspace coordinates.

- Ilthuran is seeking asylum

with the United Federation of Planets

and is under my protection.

- [scoffs] I'm not your ensign anymore.

But I will leave you with a parting gift

in honor of the time we spent together.

It just flew by.

[computer beeping]

- Cetacean Ops is detecting something incoming, Admiral.

Something big.

[suspenseful music]

♪ ♪

- Red alert. Shields up.

[comms beeping]

I advise you to turn back now.

Any attack on our vessel will be considered an act of war.

- Acknowledged.

[crackling]

[all grunting]

[rumbling]

- Damage report.

- We're caught in some sort of energy drain.

Shields are down to 87% and dropping.

- It's siphoning our power.

And something else is charging up on the enemy ship.

- We have no idea what her weapons are capable of.

- Helm, get us out of here.

- I can't, Admiral.

It's disrupting our warp field.

- Impulse too.

We're sitting ducks.

- Bleed "Voyager" dry,

and target "REV-1's" torpedoes on the "Protostar."

- No!

[torpedoes blasting]

[explosions booming]

[rumbling]

- Janeway to Janeway.

The Protostar is being hammered.

We won't last long.

- We can't lose that ship.

We have to send it back.

- I am fully aware of our temporal predicament,

but right now, my concern is for the crew of "Voyager."

I can't protect two ships at once.

- Then let me handle the "Protostar."

- Be careful.

I just got you back.

- Don't worry.

I have help.

Gwyn, you're with me.

- Gwyn to "Protostar" crew.

Meet us in Transporter Room 2.

[alarm beeping] - What's going on?

Voyager's draining more juice

than a dikironium cloud creature.

- The Protostar needs her crew.

- Wait. You want us?

- It was our ship. Who better?

- If the Protostar goes down, I go with it.

We'll make sure that doesn't happen.

- Maj'el, where are you all going?

- Weapons are down.

Commander Tysess is mounting a shuttle defense

and needs as many pilots as possible.

[all grunting]

- Grom!

- [groans] - Chakotay to the doctor.

We have a medical emergency. One injured.

- I have patients pouring in and can barely treat them all.

- I'll take her to sickbay.

The doctor could use some assistance.

Safe journeys, friends.

- We're down a pilot.

[dramatic music]

You sure you know how to fly?

- Well, I--

- He knows how to go fast.

- Go. Starfleet needs you.

- Yes, sir.

- Well, what are we waiting for?

- Good luck, Dal.

- Hey. See you on the other side.

- Not if I see you first.

[tense music]

- Took you long enough.

- You didn't think I was gonna fly this ship

all by myself?

Ready to be my first officer?

- Yes, sir.

Rok, status report.

- Enemy weapons targeting forward shields.

[Bribble chirps]

And Bribble just had an oopsie in my pocket.

- Begin evasive maneuvers, Pattern Omega One.

- [burbling]

[engine whirring]

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- [groans]

- I'm sorry I can't be of more assistance

in my diminished state.

- As long as you're conscious, you're helpful.

Now hand me a hypospray.

[ship rumbles]

- The osteo-regenerators can't keep up

with all these wounded.

- Well, then we do it the old-fashioned way.

[hypospray hisses] - [grunts]

[all grunt] - Status report.

- Systems failing.

Shields at 19%.

- We need to stop that energy drain

before we're fully exposed.

Get my torpedoes back online!

- Rerouting secondary power.

Quantum torpedoes are armed and ready.

- Target the enemy weapons array.

[rumbling]

- We can't get a lock.

Too much chronometric interference.

- Our weapons are useless if we can't find our target.

The Nova Flyers are faster than our shuttles.

Could they slip into close range

and relay coordinates?

- Already ahead of you.

[door chimes] - Over here!

Mark 2 Nova flyers, redesigned by Lieutenant Paris himself.

[engines whirring]

- They look bigger up close.

- Let's hope they're faster too.

- Commander Tysess has unlocked the safety protocols.

These are not just for target practice anymore.

♪ ♪

Prime your sensors.

Once in range, scan the enemy ship's weapons array

until Voyager can get a lock.

- Enemy fighters approaching.

- Then let's welcome them properly.

- Multiples incoming. Lay down cover fire.

- Incoming.

Stay close.

♪ ♪

- Whoa!

They ain't gonna make this easy!

- Shields at 12%.

- Nova Flyers, we need coordinates.

- I can't keep a lock. There's too many drones.

We have to fall back. - Not an option.

- Zeph's right.

We fall back, lure the drones away,

and clear a path for the "Protostar" to get a lock.

- That's a heck of an idea.

You copy that, "Protostar"?

- Loud and clear.

Buy us an opening.

- Come on.

- We only get one shot at this.

- Ah, don't be so dramatic.

[spluttering]

Recalibrating deflector, Captain.

- There's our opening.

- We've got a visual. Locking on!

[computer beeping]

- Admiral, we've scanned the weapons array.

Sending the coordinates now.

- Received.

Now get out of there.

- Shields at 3%.

2%!

- Fire quantum torpedoes, full spread!

[torpedoes blasting]

♪ ♪

- Why'd they stop following us?

[shield whirring]

[explosion booms]

♪ ♪

- No...

♪ ♪

- Shields gone.

Systems offline.

- Then we're at Asencia's mercy.

- [sighs] I am rather enjoying my new toys.

You don't want to watch?

Your strategic mind has been so useful...Traveler.

♪ ♪