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Where no man has gone before... - Doctor Cochrane would be proud of you. - I know the whole speech by heart - When's it gonna be ready to fly? - Let the paint dry first. - No. I mean the ship. - Not for a while... It hasn't even been built yet. How big will it be? Pretty big Bigger than Ambassador Pointy's ship? His name is Soval... and he's been very helpful And I've told you not to call him that. Billy Cook said we'd be flying at warp 5 by now if the Vulcans hadn't kept things from us. They have their reasons. God knows what they are. BROKEN BOW, Oklahoma 30 Years Later Let go your weapon... I mean it! I have no idea what you're saying... but I guarantee you, I know how to use this. The Ventral Plating Team says they'll be done in about three days. Be sure they match the color to the nacelle housings. - You aiming to sit on the hull and pose for some postcards? - Maybe... God, she's beautiful And fast. Warp 4.5 next Thursday. Neptune and back in six minutes. - Let's take a look at the lateral sensor array. - Give me a sec. Slow down...There. Those are the ports that buckled during the last test. They need to be reinforced. - Great. You scratched the paint. - Sorry. Orbital 6. - Captain Archer, sir? - Go ahead. - Admiral Forrest needs you at Starfleet Medical right away. - Who was chasing him? - We don't know. They were incinerated in the methane explosion, and the farmer's description was vague at best. How did they get here? What kind of ship? They were using some kind of stealth technology. We're still analyzing our sensor logs. I'd like to see those logs. The Klingons made it very clear... they want to expedite this. It happened on our soil. That's irrelevant. Ambassador... with all due respect, we have a right to know what's going on here. You'll be apprised of all pertinent information. And just who gets to decide what's pertinent? - Admiral. - John... I think you know everyone. Not everyone. - He's a Klingot. - A Kling-Qn. - Where'd he come from? - Oklahoma. A corn farmer named Moore shot him with a plasma rifle, says it was self-defense. Fortunately, Soval and I have maintained close contact with Kronos since the incident occurred. - Kronos? - It's the Klingon's homeworld. This gentleman is some sort of courier. Evidently, he was carrying crucial information back to his people. When he was nearly killed by your "farmer". Ambassador Soval thinks it would be best if we push off your launch until we've cleared this up. Well, isn't that a surprise? You'd think they'd've come up with something a little more imaginative this time. Sarcasm aside, Captain, the last thing your people need is to make an enemy of the Klingon Empire. If we hadn't convinced them to let us take Klaang's corpse back to Kronos, Earth would most likely be facing a squadron of Warbirds by the end of the week. Corpse? Is he dead? Excuse me... is that man dead? His autonomic system was disrupted by the blast but his redundant neural functions are still intact which -- Is he going to die? Not necessarily. Let me get this straight... you're going to disconnect this man from life support... even though he could recover. Where's the logic in that? Klaang's culture finds honor in death. If they saw him like this he'd be disgraced. They're a warrior race... they dream of dying in battle. If you understood the complexities of interstellar diplomacy you would -- So your "diplomatic" solution is to do what they tell you... pull the plug? Your metaphor is crude, but accurate. We may be crude, but we're not murderers. You're not going to let them do this, are you'? The Klingons have demanded that we return Klaang immediately. - Admiral? - We may need to defer to their judgement. - We've been deferring to their judgement for 100 years! - John! - How much longer? - Until you've proven you're ready, - Ready to what? - To look beyond your provincial attitudes and volatile nature. Volatile? You have no idea how much I'm restraining myself from knocking you on your ass. These Klingons are anxious to get their man back? Fine. I can have my ship ready to go in three days. We'll take him home... alive. This is no time to be imposing your ethical beliefs. Dan? What about your crew? Your Comm Officer's in Brazil... you haven't selected a Medical Officer yet... Three days, that's all I need. Admiral... We've been waiting nearly a century, Ambassador... this seems as good a time as any to get started. Listen to me. You're making a mistake! When your logic doesn't work, you raise your voice? You have been on Earth too long. I had a feeling their approach wouldn't sit too well with you. Don't screw this up. I heard this platform's been approved for bio-transport. I presume you mean fruits and vegetables. I mean Armory Officers and Helmsmen. I don't think I'm quite ready to have my molecules compressed into a data stream. - They claim it's safe. - Do they indeed? Well, I certainly hope the Captain doesn't plan on making us use it. Don't worry, from what I'm told, he wouldn't even put his dog through this thing. This is ridiculous. I asked for plasma coils and they sent me a case of valve sealant. There's no chance I can have the weapons on-line in three days. We're just taking a sick man back to his homeworld... why do we need weapons? Didn't you read the profile report on these Klingons? Apparently, they sharpen their teeth before they go into battle. No doubt Mister Tucker will reassure me that my equipment will be here tomorrow. "Keep your shirt on, Lieutenant. " Is it me, or does the artificial gravity seem a bit heavy? Feels all right... Earth sea level. My father always kept it at 0.8 G. He thought it put a little spring in his step. After being raised on cargo ships, it must've felt like you had lead in your boots when you got to Earth. Beautiful! Lock it off right there! I believe you missed a spot. Commander Tucker, ensign Travis Mayweather. He just arrived. Our "Space Boomer." How fast have you gotten her? Warp 4... we'll be going to 4.5 as soon as we clear Jupiter. - Think you can handle it? - 4.5... Pardon me, but if I don't realign the deflector, the first grain of space-dust we come across will blow a hole through this ship the size of your fist. Keep your shirt on, Lieutenant. Your equipment'll be here in the morning. Keep trying. You've almost got it. I'll be right back. There's two more weeks before exams. It's impossible for me to leave now. You've got to have someone who can cover for you. If there was anyone else who could do what I do, you wouldn't be so eager to have me on your space ship. - Hoshi... - I'm sorry, Captain. I owe it to these kids. I could order you. I'm on leave from Starfleet, remember? You'd have to forcibly recall me, which would require a reprimand which would disqualify me from serving on an active vessel. - I need someone with your ear. - And you'll have her... in 3 weeks. What's that? Klingon. Ambassador Soval gave us a sampling of their linguistic database. I thought you said the Vulcans were opposed to this. They are. But we agreed to make a few... compromises. What do you know about these... Klingons? Not much. An empire of warriors... with 80 poly-guttural dialects constructed on an adaptive syntax. Turn it up. Think about it. You'd be the first human to talk to these people. Do you really want someone else to do it? Since when do we have Vulcan Science Officers? Since we needed starcharts to get to Kronos. So we get a few maps... and they get to put a spy on our ship? Admiral Forrest says we should think of her more as a "chaperone." I thought the whole point of this was to get away from the Vulcans. 4 days there, 4 days back... then she's gone. In the meantime, we're to extend her every courtesy. I don't know [...] Here we go. Come in. This confirms that I was formally transferred to your command at oh eight hundred hours. Reporting for duty. Is there a problem? No, sir Oh, I forgot... Vulcan females have a heightened sense of smell. I hope Porthos isn't too offensive to you. I've been trained to tolerate offensive situations. I took a shower this morning... how about you, Captain? I'm sorry. This is Commander Charles Tucker III. Sub-Commander T'Pol. I'm called Charlie. I'll try to remember that. While you may not share our enthusiasm about this mission, I expect you to follow our rules... what's said in this room and out on that Bridge is classified... privileged information. No quiero que cada palabra que diga aquí se aparezca al otro día por el Alto Comando Vulcano My reason for being here is not espionage. My superiors simply asked me to assist you. Your superiors don't think we can flush a toilet without one of you to "assist" us. I didn't request this assignment, Captain... and you can be certain that when the mission's over, I'll be as pleased to leave this ship as you'll be to have me go. If there's nothing else... [...] When Zefram Cochrane made his legendary warp flight 90 years ago... and drew the attention of our new friends, the Vulcans, we realized that we weren't alone in the galaxy. Today we're about to cross a new threshold. For nearly a century, we've waded ankle-deep in the ocean of space... now it's finally time to swim. The warp 5 engine wouldn't be a reality without men like Doctor Cochrane and Henry Archer, who worked so hard to develop it. So it's only fitting that Henry's son, Jonathan Archer, will command the first starship powered by that engine. Rather than quoting Doctor Cochrane, I think we should listen to his own words from the ground breaking ceremony for the Warp 5 Complex... 32 years ago... On this site, a powerful engine will be built... an engine that will someday let us travel a hundred times faster than we can today. Imagine it. Thousands of inhabited planets at our fingertips. And we'll be able to explore those strange new worlds... and seek out new life and new civilizations. This engine will let us go boldly... where no man has gone before. Take her out, Mister Mayweather. straight and steady. - How are we doing, Charlie? - Ready when you are. Prepare for warp one. Course laid in, sir. Request permission to get underway. The coordinates are off by point two degrees. Thank you. Let's go. - Where's Klaang? - The humans have him. - Did you lose anyone else? - Two of my soldiers were killed. One of them was a friend. Can you prevent it? Our agreement doesn't provide for correcting mistakes. - Recover the evidence. - I will... I promise you. - When will we speak again? - Don't be concerned with when. - Love what you've done with the place. - Those are immunocytic gel worms... try not to shake them. - So what'd you think of Earth? - Intriguing. I especially liked the Chinese food. - Have you ever tried it? - I've lived in San Francisco all my life. Anatomically, you humans are somewhat simplistic... but what you lack biologically you make up for with your charming optimism... not to mention your egg drop soup. Be very careful with the blue box. - What's in there? - An Altarian marsupial... their droppings contain the greatest concentration of regenerative enzymes found anywhere. Their droppings? If you're going to try to embrace new worlds... you must try to embrace new ideas. That's why the Vulcans initiated the Interspecies Medical Exchange... there's a lot to be learned! I'm sorry I had to take you away from your program... but our doctors haven't even heard of a Klingon. Please, no apologies! What better time to study human beings than when they're under pressure? It's a rare opportunity. And your Klingon friend... I've never had a chance to examine a living one before. Ensign Mayweather tells me we'll be to Kronos in about 8 hours. Any chance he'll be conscious by then? There's a chance he'll be conscious within the next 10 minutes... just not a very good one. Eighty hours, Doctor. If he doesn't walk off this ship on his own two feet, he doesn't stand much of a chance. I'll do the best I can. Optimism, Captain! You're upsidedown, ensign. - Yes, sir. - Care to explain why? When I was a kid, we called it the "sweet spot". Every ship's got one. Sweet spot. It's usually about halfway between the grav-generator and the bow plate. Grab hold of that (conduit). No no no... hang on to side Now swing your legs up. Swing your legs. Takes practice. Ever slept in zero G? - Slept? - Like being back in the womb. Captain tells me you've been to Trillius Prime. Took the 4th, 5th and 6th grades to get there. I've also been to Draylax and both the Andorian Moons. I've only been to one inhabited planet besides Earth... nothing there but dust-dwelling ticks. - I've heard the women on Draylax have... - Three... - it's true. - You know that first-hand? First-hand, second-hand, and third-hand. I guess growing up a boomer has its advantages. - Got an empty seat here, Commander. - Sorry. Dinner with the boss tonight. - The Grand Canyon? - No. - Big Sur Aquarium? - Sightseeing was not one of my assignments. All work and no play... Everyone should get out for a little R & R now and then. All our recreational needs are provided at the Compound. Come in. - You should've started without me. - Sit down T'Pol tells me she's been living at the Vulcan Compound in Sausalito. No kidding. I lived a few blocks from there when I was at the Academy. Great parties at the Vulcan Compound. It might be a little easier using your fingers. Vulcans don't touch food with their hands. Can't wait to see you tackle the spare ribs. Don't worry. We know you're a vegetarian. Tell Chef I said thanks. Of course, Sir. You humans claim to be enlightened, yet you still consume the flesh of animals. Grandma taught me never to judge a species by their eating habits. "Enlightened" may be too strong a word, but if you'd been on Earth fifty years ago, I think you'd be impressed by what we've gotten done. You've yet to embrace either patience or logic... you remain impulsive carnivores. Sí... y qué hay de la guerra? Yeah? How about war... disease... hunger? Pretty much wiped 'em out in less than two generations. I wouldn't call that small potatoes. It remains to be seen whether humanity will revert to its baser instincts. We used to have cannibals on Earth. Who knows how far we'll revert? Lucky this isn't a long mission. El instinto humano es fuerte... no puede esperar que cambie de la noche a la mañana Human instinct is pretty strong -- you can't expect us to change overnight. With proper discipline, anything's possible. Warp 4.3, sir. - Not much of a change. - I don't know... does anybody else feel that? - Feel what? - Those... vibrations... like little tremors. You're imagining it. Bring us to 4.4, ensign. There! What do you call that? The warp reactor was recalibrating. It shouldn't happen again. I was instructed to speak English during this voyage. I'd appreciate it if you'd respect that. It's easy to get a little jumpy when you're travelling at 30 million kilometers a second. Should be old-hat in a week's time. - Archer. - This is Doctor Phlox, Captain. Our patient is regaining consciousness. On my way. Hoshi. - What's wrong? - The translator's not locking onto his dialect... the syntax won't align. Tell him we're taking him home. He wants to know who we are - He's asking for his ship back. - Say it was destroyed. I'm not sure... but I think he's saying something about "eating the afterlife". Try the translator again. I'm going to need to run what we've got through the phonetic processor. He says... "his wife has grown ugly." I'm sorry, Captain... I'm doing the best I can. His pre-frontal cortex is hyperstimulated... I doubt he has any idea what he's saying. I think the Doctor's right, Captain... unless "stinky boots" has something to do with all this. That's the warp reactor again, right? - Bridge, report. - We've dropped out of warp, sir. Main power is -- we lose power in all the deck I think I saw something off the starboard bow... - What? - don't know... it may've just been the sensors going down... Auxiliary power should've kicked in by now... Do you know how to tell him to shut up? Shut up! Sedate him if you have to. I need to get to the Bridge. Captain! There's someone here. Crewman! - you are all right - yes We've got state-of-the-art sensors... why the hell didn't we detect them? Mister Reed thought he detected something right before we lost power... The starboard sensor logs recorded a spatial disturbance. Looks more like a glitch. Those weren't glitches in Sickbay. I want a complete analysis of that disturbance. - Where do we stand on weapons? - I still have to tune the targeting scanners... What're you waiting for? - Captain... - The Klingon seemed to know who they were. See if you can translate what he said. Captain. There's no way you could have anticipated this. I'm sure Ambassador Soval will understand. You're the Science Officer. Why don't you help Charlie with that analysis? The astrometric computer in San Francisco will be far more effective. We're not going to San Francisco, so make-do with what we've got here. You've lost the Klingon. Your mission is over. I didn't lose the Klingon... he was taken. And I'm going to find out who took him. How do you plan to do that? Space is very big, Captain... a shadow on your sensors won't help you find them. This is a foolish mission. Come with me. I'm not interested in what you think about this mission. So take your Vulcan cynicism and bury it along with your repressed emotions. Your reaction to this situation is a perfect example of why your species should remain in its own star system. I've been listening to you Vulcans ell us what not to do all my life. I watched my father work his ass off while your scientists held back just enough information to keep him from succeeding. He deserved to see that launch. You may have life spans of 200 years... You are going to be contacting Starfleet... to advise them of our situation. No, I'm not. And neither are you Now get the hell out there and make yourself useful. - What have you found, doctor? - Mister Klaang was right about one thing... he's a Suliban. - But unless I'm mistaken, he's no ordinary one. - Meaning? His DNA is Suliban... but his anatomy has been altered. Look at this lung. Five bronchial lobes. You see? It should only have three. And look at the alveoli clusters... they've been modified to process different kinds of atmospheres. Are you saying he's some kind of mutant? Yes, I suppose I am. But this was no accident, no freak of nature. This man was the recipient of some very sophisticated genetic engineering. Watch this. Subcutaneous pigment sacs. A bio-mimetic garment. The eyes are my favorite. Compound retinas. He most likely saw things even your sensors couldn't detect. - It's not in their genome? - Certainly not. The Suliban are no more evolved than humans. Very impressive work, though. I've never seen anything quite like it. - How about this? - It's just background noise. Your sensors aren't capable of isolating plasma decay. How can you be so damn sure what our sensors can do? Vulcan children play with toys that are more sophisticated. You know, some people say that you Vulcans do nothing but patronize us... but if they were here now... if they could see how far you're bending over backwards to help me, they'd eat their words. Your Captain's mission was to return the Klingon to his people. He no longer has the Klingon. I realize he's only a simple Earthling... but did it ever occur to you that he might know what he's doing? It's no secret Starfleet hasn't been around too long... God knows you remind us of that every chance you get... but does that mean the man who's been put in charge of this mission doesn't deserve our support? Then again, loyalty's an emotion, isn't it? - Having any luck? - Not really. My analysis of the spatial disturbance Mister Reed saw indicates a stealth vessel with a tricyclic plasma drive. If we can figure out the decay rate of their plasma, we'll be able to find their warp trail. Unfortunately, your sensors weren't designed to measure plasma decay. Are you sure it's safe to stand so close to that? - What've you got? - I've managed to translate most of what Klaang said. - But none of it makes sense. - Nothing about the Suliban? Nope. That name ring a bell to you? They're a somewhat primitive species from Sector 3641. But they've never posed a threat. Well, they have now. - Did he say anything about Earth? - The word's not even in their database. It's all there. There were only 4 words I couldn't translate. Probably just proper nouns. "Jelik...Sarin...Rigel... Tholia." Anything sound familiar? T'pol? Rigel is a planetary system... approximately 50 light years from our present position. Why the hesitation? According to the navigational logs salvaged from Klaang's ship... Rigel 10 was the last place he stopped before crashing on your planet. Why do I get the feeling you weren't going to share that little piece of information? I wasn't authorized to reveal the details of our findings. The next time I learn you're withholding something... you're going to spend the rest of this voyage confined to some very cramped quarters. Understood? - Archer to helm. - here Maywhather Go into the Vulcan starcharts and find a system called Rigel... - then set a course for the tenth planet. - Yes, sir. Where is it? I don't know. We're not going to harm you. Tell me where it is. I don't know. Are you certain he's telling the truth? Absolutely certain. Did you leave it on your ship... did you hide it somewhere... is it on Enterprise? I don't know what you're looking for. What were you doing on Rigel 10? I was sent to meet someone. - Who - A Suliban female... named Sarin. And what did Sarin give you? Nothing. Keep him alive while I'm gone. Once we've disembarked, we'll be descending into the trade complex. It's comprised of 36 levels... Your translators have been programmed for Rigelian. However, there are other species working on the colony. Many of them are known to be impatient with newcomers. None of them have seen a human before. You have a tendency to be... gregarious. I suggest you try to restrain that tendency. You forgot to warn us about drinking the water. Doctor Phlox isn't concerned with the food and water. . But he does caution against intimate contact. The Vulcans told us Klaang was a courier. If he was here to get something, then whoever gave it to him might know why he was taken. That was only a few days ago... a seven foot Klingon doesn't go unnoticed. Would you like to meet them? I can arrange it. - Is this where you saw Klaang? - No, no, not here. I'II show you where. But first, you should enjoy yourselves! Which one would you prefer? We should get going, sir. Me We're here to learn about the Klingon... Are those real butterflies, or some -kind of holograms? Yes, absolutely, you're right. - T'Pol to Archer. - Go ahead. Hey... Central Security claims to have no record of Klaang. But they told me about an enclave on Level Nineteen where Klingons have been known to go. Something about live food. - Where on Level Nineteen? - The easternmost subsection... by the geothermal shafts. I'll meet you there as soon as I can. Archer out. What're you doing? Leave the kid alone! - Don't get involved. - Do you see what she's doing? He's going to suffocate! They're Lorillians. Before the age of 4, they can only breathe methyloxide. The mother is simply weaning her son. Could've fooled me. Humans can't refrain from drawing conclusions. You should learn to objectify other cultures... so you can determine when to interfere, and when not to. Isn't an enclave supposed to have people? "Enclave" could mean a lot of things. T' Pol said something about "live" food. I don't see any restaurants... Hello... excuse me! They looked Klingon to me. Archer to T'Pol. T'Pol, come in. Maybe we should get back to where there are more people. There are plenty of people right here. Stay behind me. Adapted by "Lance Picardo" |
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