| (We see
the crew out cold, on the floor or slumped over their duty stations.)
T'POL [OC]: Science officer's log, August 14, 2152. Enterprise remains
on course for the trinary system. I've transmitted a distress call but
the nearest Vulcan ship is more than nine days away. By the time they
arrive, they may only find debris, if that. Even if Enterprise makes it
past the black hole without being destroyed, it seems likely the crew
T'POL: I'm continuing my analysis of the condition
that's stricken the crew. Without Doctor Phlox's assistance I'm not
hopeful about reversing its effects. I'm documenting my findings so
that Starfleet will at least have a record of what happened. The
symptoms began not long after we set a course for the trinary system.
That was nearly two days ago.
ARCHER: You're sure it's a black hole?
T'POL: A class four.
ARCHER: According to the Vulcan star charts, your people have surveyed
more than two thousand of these things.
T'POL: That's correct, but none of them were part of a trinary star
ARCHER: How close can we get?
T'POL: The gravitational shear between the stars is extreme. We'd have
to drop to impulse, but we should be able to approach to within five
TUCKER: Close enough to get some nice pictures.
ARCHER: How long would it take to reach the system at impulse?
T'POL: Two days.
ARCHER: Set a course.
(T'Pol leaves them.)
ARCHER: Trip. If you've got some free
time, I'd love it if you take a look at my chair.
ARCHER: The Captain's chair.
TUCKER: Wh-What about it?
ARCHER:: You may have noticed that I don't sit in it very much.
TUCKER: Is there a problem?
ARCHER: It's uncomfortable. When I lean back I feel like I'm about to
slide out of it. I have to sort of perch on the edge.
TUCKER: I always assumed it was the best seat in the house.
ARCHER: Take a look at it for me?
TUCKER: I was going to purge the impulse manifolds.
ARCHER: The chair first, if you don't mind.
TUCKER: Aye, aye, sir.
(The monitor shows a portion of text about Henry
Archer, Jonathan Archer's father.)
ARCHER: Come in.
T'POL: Good morning.
T'POL: Am I interrupting?
ARCHER: No, no. Just thinking about something.
T'POL: Today's duty roster.
(She hands over a PADD.)
T'POL: Lieutenant Reed has a new security protocol he'd like to discuss
ARCHER: I'll drop by the Armoury. Anything else?
T'POL: Chef didn't report for duty this morning. He's ill.
ARCHER: Is it serious?
T'POL: Doctor Phlox said it's a simple virus. He should be fine after a
few days' rest. Ensign Sato has offered to take charge of the mess
hall. Apparently, she spends some of her free time in the Galley and is
eager for an opportunity to cook for the crew.
ARCHER: If it's all right with Chef. Let me ask you a question. I
received a manuscript from Earth. A biography of my father. I've been
asked to write the preface. Would you mind reading it when I'm done?
T'POL: I'd be happy to.
ARCHER: If I can ever get it finished. I've been putting it off for
T'POL: The next two days should provide you with ample opportunity.
ARCHER: It's not that I haven't had the time. They only asked for a
page. How am I supposed to sum up my father's life in a page? It
would've been easier if they'd asked me to write the book.
T'POL: Perhaps by focusing on one incident, a single event that
exemplifies your relationship with your father, you'll be able to
condense your thoughts.
ARCHER: A logical approach. Maybe you'd like to write it for me?
T'POL: I'm hardly qualified.
CUNNINGHAM: Chef was planning to make fried
chicken tonight with scalloped potatoes and some of the Minaran spinach
we picked up on Risa.
HOSHI: The orange spinach?
CUNNINGHAM: He's convinced there's a way to make it edible.
HOSHI: Why don't we let him tackle that when he gets back? I have
something else in mind.
(She calls up an oriental recipe on the monitor.)
HOSHI: It's one of my grandmother's specialties. The recipe's been passed down
CUNNINGHAM: I'll need a translation before I can programme the protein
HOSHI: Oh no. You can resequence all the chicken and potatoes you want,
but I am making this from scratch.
(Phlox is grinding herbs with pestle and mortar when Travis enters.)
PHLOX: Ensign. Is there something I can do for you?
TRAVIS: I've got a little headache. Nothing serious.
PHLOX: Why don't you let me have a look?
TRAVIS: I was hoping you could just give me something. I'm right in the
middle of upgrading the navigation sensors.
PHLOX: It would be irresponsible to dispense medication without
examining you first. Please. Any other symptoms? Dizziness, blurred
PHLOX: How long have you had it?
TRAVIS: A couple of days, on and off.
PHLOX: Well, I've been meaning to have you drop by Sickbay in any
case, to see if you've had any problems since I removed the neural
implants you received at the repair station.
TRAVIS: You think it could have something to do with that?
PHLOX: Oh, I never rule out anything. Then again, it could be as
innocuous as muscular tension. On the other hand, Terrellian plague
starts out with a simple headache, then all manner of nasty things
begin to happen.
(Tucker is using what looks like a dentist's drill
on the base of the Captain's chair, and annoying T'Pol with the noise
at the same time.)
T'POL: Commander. Commander.
TUCKER: (to his assistant) Push it forward. That's good, hold it there.
T'POL: (raising her voice) Commander.
(He turns off the drill.)
you could finish that later.
TUCKER: This may not be as glamorous as a black hole, but the Captain
gave me an order.
T'POL: He also requested detailed sensor readings of this trinary
TUCKER: I thought Vulcans had all this mental focus and discipline.
T'POL: We also have sensitive hearing.
(Tucker resumes drilling and my
teeth start aching.)
T'POL: I'll be in my quarters.
TUCKER: We'll let you know when we're done.
REED: Keep those target discriminators aligned. We
don't want a torpedo mistaking one of our own nacelles for an enemy
ARCHER: You asked to see me, Malcolm?
REED: I would have come to you, Captain.
ARCHER: It's no problem. What's on your mind?
REED: I've been reviewing our encounters with hostile species. The
crew's response has been admirable but I feel we can do better, sir.
ARCHER: And you have a proposal?
REED: I've been thinking about a ship wide emergency alert. Something a
bit more comprehensive than battle stations. We're taking far too long
to react to potential threats. With a single order from you, or an
impact to the hull, the plating could be polarised, weapons brought
online, critical systems secured.
ARCHER: I appreciate your concern, Malcolm, but this isn't a warship.
REED: That's obvious, sir. During our last run-in with the Suliban we
were unprepared for their boarding parties. When the Mazarites attacked
they disabled our aft sensors with their first shot. The list goes on.
(He hands over a PADD.)
ARCHER: I can see that. Run this by the senior officers, get some
feedback, and we'll talk again.
REED: Yes, sir.
ARCHER: And Malcolm, don't call it battle stations. Think of something
Tthe tables are full with people eating from
bowls, using chop sticks. Hoshi is walking amongst them.)
HOSHI: How is it?
(A crewwoman nods.)
REED: Condition Red?
TUCKER: (reading) Huh?
REED: What about Condition Red for the new security protocol?
TUCKER: Why don't you just call it Security Protocol?
REED: Well, that's not very dynamic.
TUCKER: Do you think a cup holder's too much?
REED: I beg your pardon?
TUCKER: For the Captain's chair. He just wanted the seat adjusted but I
figured as long as I'm working on it.
REED: Just what the captain needs in a crisis, a place to rest his
TUCKER: I'm also upgrading the status displays. He'll be able to access
tactical data from the armrest.
REED: If you really want to improve tactical readiness, why don't you
help me with this protocol?
TUCKER: I'm a little busy right now, Malcolm.
REED: It's a chair.
TUCKER: It's the Captain's chair. It's just as important as your Reed
REED: Reed Alert. That's not bad.
HOSHI: Enjoying your lunch?
TUCKER: Yeah. Thanks. It was terrific.
HOSHI: It's called oden. Every Japanese family has their own way of
TUCKER: Well, it seems to be a big hit. Congratulations.
HOSHI: Thank you. Lieutenant, you barely touched yours.
REED: It was lovely.
HOSHI: I'll get you a fresh bowl.
REED: That's not necessary.
HOSHI: It's no problem.
REED: Please. Not hungry.
HOSHI: Are you sure there's nothing wrong with it?
REED: Well it was a bit salty.
(She takes a sip.)
HOSHI: It tastes fine.
REED: Well, it just must be me, then. Everybody else seems to be
(The pair get up to leave, still intent on their PADDs.)
(Travis is lying on the gurney that goes into the
TRAVIS: How much longer is this going to take?
PHLOX: That depends.
TRAVIS: On what?
PHLOX: Hold still, Ensign.
TRAVIS: I have to get back to the Bridge.
PHLOX: I'm afraid you won't be returning to duty today.
TRAVIS: The Captain needs those upgrades, Doctor.
PHLOX: When it comes to medical matters my authority overrides the
Captain's. I'm keeping you overnight for observation.
TRAVIS: But your scans didn't show anything.
PHLOX: That's what concerns me. Whatever's afflicting you may be laying
dormant. I'm going to run a full biomolecular scan to see if we can
find where it's hiding. Now, lie back and don't move.
(He is dictating his preface, and the computer is
putting it up on screen, including punctuation.)
ARCHER: When I was about eight years old, my father took me on a tour
of the Warp Five facility outside of Bozeman, Montana. He introduced me
to the people he worked with. Scientists with names like Tasaki and
Cochrane. At the time, I didn't realise the significance of those names
or the significance of my father's work. (Porthos barks) Computer,
pause. I'll feed you in a minute. Computer, resume recording. In a way,
creating a stable warp field mirrored the, the flux of emotions my
father felt when he embarked on. Computer, pause. Delete the last
paragraph. Hell, delete the whole thing. (Porthos barks again) Quiet.
(The little dog goes to his cushion and sulks.)
T'POL: Come in.
TUCKER: Here's your sensor interface. What's the emergency?
T'POL: This trinary system is emitting some unusual radiation. I'm
trying to identify it.
TUCKER: You dragged me up here so you could identify radiation?
TUCKER: You said it was urgent.
T'POL: I said it was important.
TUCKER: I get it. You're paying me back. Making me jump through hoops
because I was making too much noise. Well, you'll be happy to know I
moved the Captain's chair down to Engineering. So it's nice and quiet
on the Bridge now.
T'POL: I prefer to work here. I'll need your assistance with this.
TUCKER: Weren't you listening to me? I don't have time to cater to your
whims. You want to get your name immortalized in the Vulcan database,
get someone else to help you do it.
T'POL: Are you feeling all right, Commander?
TUCKER: I know you don't think this chair is important, but you're
wrong. What's the most critical component on this ship? The main
computer? The warp reactor? Uh-uh, it's the crew. And the most
important member of the crew is the Captain. He makes life and death
decisions every day and the last thing he needs to be thinking in a
critical situation is, 'Gee, I wish this chair wasn't such a pain in
(Phlox is staring intently at the body scanner monitor.)
TRAVIS: When are you going to
TRAVIS: I have just enough time to shower and get changed.
PHLOX: I haven't discharged you, Ensign.
TRAVIS: I haven't slept all night and I'm supposed to go on duty in
PHLOX: I need to perform a cerebral micro-section.
TRAVIS: A what?
PHLOX: Lie down.
TRAVIS: No more tests. I have to get to the Bridge.
(Phlox blocks his way.)
PHLOX: I'm giving you an order.
TRAVIS: If I don't finish those upgrades, I could get a reprimand.
It'll be in my permanent record.
PHLOX: You have far more to worry about than a blemish on your record.
Do you see there? Your cortical scan shows elevated levels of serotonin
and several other neurotransmitters.
TRAVIS: What does that mean?
PHLOX: I'll let you know once I've completed the micro-section.
TRAVIS: Can't it wait until after my shift?
PHLOX: Absolutely not.
TRAVIS: If the Captain doesn't think I can handle my duties, I'll be
scrubbing plasma conduits on D Deck for the next five years. I could be
PHLOX: And what if you're carrying a protocystian spore, and you infect
the rest of the crew? How will that reflect on you? Or what if you
suddenly suffer a seizure at the helm because you've contracted
Andronesian encephalitis? Now there is something wrong with you,
Ensign, and I intend to find out what it is.
TRAVIS: Not today. Not during my shift. Unless you're ready to tie me
to a biobed, I'm going back to my helm.
PHLOX: At least let me give you an analgesic for the headache.
TRAVIS: That's all I wanted in the first place.
PHLOX: If it gets any worse, or you suffer any other symptoms, return
(Travis nods, Phlox injects him and then -)
TRAVIS: What did you
(Travis passes out.)
(Trip is working on the Captain's chair when
Malcolm bursts in.)
REED: I've been working on the new security protocol. Obviously, the
reactor must be secured immediately during a Tactical Alert.
TUCKER: Tactical Alert?
REED: I considered your suggestion, Reed Alert, but it seemed a bit
TUCKER: Hand me that hyperspanner, would you?
REED: I've also been working on a new alert signal. Tell me what you
think. (a klaxon) Or this one? (more like a buzzer) Well, which do you
TUCKER: For what?
REED: A Tactical Alert.
TUCKER: They both sound like a bag full of cats.
REED: Well, they were designed to get your attention.
(He takes the PADD off Reed and puts it on a shelf.)
TUCKER: I'll look
this over and get back to you.
(Reed picks it up again.)
REED: I also need your help on an emergency
shutdown procedure for the EPS grid.
TUCKER: I said I'll get back to you.
REED: Fine. Let's hope we don't suffer a catastrophic reactor breach in
TUCKER: Malcolm. One of your boys borrowed my laser micrometer. If
you're heading to the Armoury, could you get it back for me?
CUNNINGHAM: Ensign, if we don't serve something
soon we're going to have a riot on our hands.
HOSHI: Is this too salty? Something's not right. Hand me the Kreetassan
spice. I'll add it to the stock. Oh, I'm out of carrots.
CUNNINGHAM: There are twenty five people
CUNNINGHAM: (bringing the carrots) With all due respect, you've been
cooking the same meal over and over again.
HOSHI: I believe I'm in charge of the galley.
CUNNINGHAM: I understand
HOSHI: You're relieved.
HOSHI: Get out!
T'POL: Lieutenant, I need your
REED: Clearance code.
T'POL: I beg your pardon?
REED: What is your clearance code? The Armoury is a restricted area.
T'POL: Even to the First Officer?
REED: How do I know you are the First Officer? We've encountered
species that can alter their appearance. They could masquerade as any
one of us. I've issued codes to all senior officers to reveal if the
ship's been infiltrated by impostors.
T'POL: Part of your new security protocol?
REED: It was sent to your console as a voice-encrypted command packet.
T'POL: I haven't been to the Bridge for several hours. As I was saying,
I need assistance establishing a sensor interface in my quarters. I've
asked Commander Tucker, but he became agitated. It was
uncharacteristic, even for him. Have you noticed anything abnormal
about his behaviour?
REED: Why do you want to access the sensor array from your quarters?
T'POL: I was asked to run detailed scans of the trinary star system.
REED: I wasn't informed.
T'POL: It isn't a tactical issue. Lieutenant, why are you armed?
REED: From now on, security personnel are to wear side arms in all
T'POL: Have you cleared this with the Captain?
REED: It's in my proposal.
T'POL: Has he approved your proposal?
REED: I've been trying to get him to pay closer attention to security
since we left spacedock, but he's more interested in fraternising with
the crew. Inviting them to breakfast, and to watch water polo. I intend
to implement some long-overdue changes, and if the Captain won't
approve them then I'll go directly to Starfleet Command. Was there
(Continuing the dictation from the start of the
T'POL: It wasn't long before I realized the odd behaviour wasn't
limited to Commander Tucker. In fact, everyone I encountered was acting
strangely, growing consumed with matters that seemed trivial at best. I
also discovered that although I appeared to be immune, the Captain was
(Archer enters, gazing at the PADD he's writing
the book preface on.)
ARCHER: What happened to my chair?
TUCKER: Did you know that this chair is the exact same model used on
Neptune class survey ships?
ARCHER: Is that why you called me down here?
TUCKER: Enterprise is the first warp five vessel in human history, the
pride of the fleet, and you're sitting in a chair they've been using on
warp two ships for over a decade. You deserve better, so I'm starting
from scratch. I'm going to build you a throne. Stand right there. I
need to get a few parametric scans to get your exact dimensions. This
baby is going to fit like a glove.
(Archer backs away from the thing Trip is pointing at him.)
that used for aligning phase coils?
TUCKER: You won't feel a thing.
(Trip takes his scan.)
ARCHER: As long as I'm down here, maybe I
can get your opinion.
TUCKER: Don't move.
ARCHER: (reading from PADD) How does one measure a man's legacy? Is it
defined by the works he's created, the technological advances that will
forever alter the course of human history?
TUCKER: Turn around.
ARCHER: If so, then no man since Zephram Cochrane, himself has made a
more lasting contribution to the future of humankind than my father,
Doctor Henry Archer.
TUCKER: All done.
ARCHER: What do you think?
TUCKER: Sounds good.
ARCHER: Let me read you the rest. (Tucker is intent on the scan results on his monitor.)
TUCKER: I really need to
get to work on this.
ARCHER: It's just a few more pages.
TUCKER: How many more?
TUCKER: Nineteen? Are you writing the preface or the book?
ARCHER: I've got a lot to say.
TUCKER: No kidding.
ARCHER: What's that supposed to mean?
TUCKER: If I may, sir, it's a little longwinded.
ARCHER: You're lucky you're a decent engineer because you obviously
don't know anything about writing.
TUCKER: I'm not the only one.
(Archer storms out.)
HOSHI: I have eighty three people to feed, not
just senior officers.
T'POL: All I requested was a bowl of Plomeek broth.
HOSHI: I don't have time for special orders. Anyway, you'll like this
ARCHER: Where's lunch?
HOSHI: It'll be ready in one minute, sir.
ARCHER: I don't have a minute.
HOSHI: If you're so hungry, fix yourself a sandwich.
T'POL: Captain? May I speak with you?
(Archer takes the pot of oden off the stove and starts to
HOSHI: That is a very complex recipe. I will not serve it till
it's just right. My family's reputation is at stake.
(Then the klaxon goes off)
REED [OC]: This is a Tactical Alert. All hands report to your stations.
I repeat, this is a Tactical Alert.
(Reed stands with his arms folded, shaking his head.)
REED: The crew's response was
unacceptable. Thirty eight percent of them failed to report to their
stations. Critical systems haven't been secured. I haven't even heard
ARCHER: Shut off that damn noise. Shut it off. I don't recall
authorising a tactical drill.
REED: It wouldn't be much of a drill if everybody knew about it, sir.
One minute and fifteen seconds.
REED: It took you one minute and fifteen seconds to reach your post.
I'd expect more of our Commanding Officer given that the crew just
might follow his example.
REED: One minute and forty nine seconds.
TUCKER: You might want to see this, sir.
(he leads them back to the )
(Where he calls up the plans for the new Captain's
chair on the central display.)
TUCKER: Interactive status displays, secondary helm control. It's even
got inertial micro-dampers. The ship could be shaking apart and you'd
hardly feel a thing.
REED: You ignored a tactical alert for this?
TUCKER: I want to run some colours by you for the headrest.
REED: This is all a big joke to you.
TUCKER: Give it a rest.
REED: This isn't a bloody pleasure cruise. Without proper discipline on
this ship, this mission is doomed.
TUCKER: Why don't you go play soldier somewhere else?
(Archer becomes engrossed in his preface again.)
REED: If this were a military situation you'd be taken out and shot.
(Tucker grabs Reed and pushes him up against the bulkhead. Archer has
to break them up.)
ARCHER: Hey, hey, hey, hey.
(He shoves Tucker against the bulkhead himself.)
ARCHER: I don't care what colour the headrest is, or whether it can serve me
iced tea. I just want a place to sit when I'm on duty.
(Then he does the
same to Reed.)
ARCHER: And if I hear that alarm one more time I may have you
taken out and shot. (to T'Pol) Unless there's a real emergency, like a
reactor breach, I don't want to be disturbed.
(He is barefoot and slumped in a corner when the
ARCHER: Go away.
(T'Pol comes in anyway.)
ARCHER: Do I have to start locking my
T'POL: You said to interrupt you if there was an emergency. I believe
ARCHER: Is that right?
(he goes over to the monitor, which shows the words
he read to Tucker earlier.)
T'POL: The crew's behaviour has become erratic. Even by human
standards, they've grown distracted. Everyone I've encountered appears
to be preoccupied with trivial matters. Ensign Sato's recipe, for
example. Your preface. We should declare a medical emergency and have
Doctor Phlox examine the crew. I suggest he begin with you.
ARCHER: I'm busy.
T'POL: Your crew is in danger.
ARCHER: I gave you an order.
ARCHER: I suggest you follow it, or I'll have you confined to your
quarters, until, until a Vulcan ship can come and get you.
her out of the room.)
(Phlox is in full latex surgery gear, with Travis
strapped to a table.)
PHLOX: You're just in time, Sub-Commander. There's a surgical gown in
the compartment by the microscope. This is a rare opportunity to
explore the human brain.
T'POL: Was he injured?
PHLOX: A headache. At first, I thought it was a simple vascular
dilation but then I discovered a chemical imbalance in his prefrontal
cortex. I'm going to begin by extracting the first twelve millimetres
of his parietal lobe. A sub-cellular analysis of the tissue should shed
some light on the mystery.
T'POL: Doctor, you may want to delay the procedure. We have a larger
problem. The entire crew is ill.
PHLOX: They'll have to wait.
(T'Pol stops him from cutting into Travis's head.)
T'POL: You've been
affected, as well.
PHLOX: Please remove your hand.
(He moves his fingers so the laser scalpel
is pointing at her eye.)
PHLOX: I won't ask you again. (she lets go) I'll let
you know when I've completed the surgery.
(T'Pol administers a quick neck pinch and he crumples to the floor, then she goes to
study Travis's brain scans.)
(T'Pol uses a medical scanner to check Hoshi's
T'POL [OC]: The crew's bio-signs were growing erratic. I began to doubt
any of them would survive more than a few hours.
T'POL: (continuing to dictate her log) Ironically,
Dr. Phlox's obsession with Ensign Mayweather's headache has provided
some useful data. His cerebral scans have helped me determine that the
radiation coming from the trinary system is causing (a computer alert
sounds) Computer, pause.
(A scan of the star's radiation fields comes
T'POL: Computer, resume log. My radiometric analysis is complete. As I
suspected, reversing course won't take us out of danger quickly enough.
The radiation appears to extend outward at least half a light year in
every direction except one. If I can chart a course between the stars
we could escape the radiation before the crew succumbs. But I won't be
able to pilot the ship alone.
(Archer is slumped over his desk.)
T'POL: Captain? Captain Archer! You're needed on the Bridge.
ARCHER: I told you not to disturb me.
(T'Pol hauls him to his feet.)
T'POL: We have very little time.
ARCHER: What are you doing?
T'POL: Your crew may be dying.
T'POL: Do you remember that trinary star system?
ARCHER: The one with the black hole?
T'POL: It's emitting a dangerous form of radiation. It's affecting your
(She gets him into his shower cubicle.)
T'POL: I believe that's
why you and the crew have been exhibiting obsessive behaviour. Some of
the crew's biosigns are already unstable. If you're exposed to the
radiation much longer you won't survive.
(She props him against the wall,
gets out and turns on the cold water.)
T'POL: Do you understand what I'm
ARCHER: Turn it off.
T'POL: Do you understand?
ARCHER: Yes. Radiation. Tell Phlox, if the the crew's sick. Tell Phlox.
T'POL: He's been affected as well.
ARCHER: But not you?
T'POL: Vulcan physiology seems to be immune.
ARCHER: Bring us about. Turn the ship around.
(She turns the water off and gets him a towel.)
T'POL: It's not that simple. If we go back the way we came we'll spend
two more days in the radiation field. I've charted a course that'll
have us clear of the radiation in less than seventeen minutes.
(T'Pol pours him coffee from a thermos that was on his desk.)
ARCHER: Lousy coffee.
T'POL: But we'll have to pass within two million kilometres of the
black hole. There's considerable debris and gravitational shear.
Someone needs to pilot Enterprise while I determine the course
T'POL: He's been sedated.
ARCHER: I'm in no condition to fly a starship.
T'POL: We have no other choice.
(Enterprise sails serenely through gas and
boulders as Reed sleeps at his post.)
T'POL: More gravitational shear. We're too far to port.
ARCHER: (at the helm) But you said bearing two point four.
T'POL: Twelve point four.
ARCHER: My mistake. Twelve point four.
(There's a lot of juddering
feedback from the joystick.)
ARCHER: How much longer is this going to take?
T'POL: Six minutes.
ARCHER: I'm good for that.
T'POL: Another shear front. We need to rotate our longitudinal axis by
twelve degrees and bring our flight vector to zero one four mark two
ARCHER: Hold on, hold on. Zero what?
T'POL: Zero one four mark.
ARCHER: Mark two-seven.
(The hull echoes as boulders bounce off it.)
T'POL: Just minor debris. The hull plating is holding. Our lateral
vector is drifting. Captain!
ARCHER: Hang on a second. I feel like I'm in flight school again.
T'POL: You're doing well. New heading. Zero zero six mark four.
lump of rock drifts into their path.)
ARCHER: I see it.
(The rock shatters as they approach.)
ARCHER: We need phase
T'POL: They'd take too long to charge.
(A big hit, and the alert klaxon
T'POL: All weapons are online. It must be part of the new security
(Two shots clear their path of danger.)
ARCHER: Could you shut
(The klaxon stops.)
ARCHEHR: How much longer?
T'POL: Less than ten seconds. Five more seconds.
(They clear the gas cloud and are in open black, starlit space again.)
ARCHER: Any more surprises?
T'POL: Nothing on sensors.
(Tucker wakes and gets up off the floor.)
TUCKER: Did we get some nice
pictures of the black hole?
(Phlox is checking out the crew for residual
PHLOX: How are you feeling?
TRAVIS: A little tired, but the headache's gone. What'd you do?
PHLOX: Very little, fortunately. You're free to go.
(Archer and T'Pol enter.)
ARCHER: How's the crew?
PHLOX: Oh, I'm continuing to monitor vital signs. But I've detected no
lingering effects from the radiation. Mostly just rattled nerves, a few
bruises and sprains from when some of them lost consciousness. I
appreciate your intervening before I got any further with Mister
T'POL: I wasn't certain it would work on a Denobulan.
PHLOX: It worked quite effectively, I can assure you.
ARCHER: What procedure on Mister Mayweather?
PHLOX: The radiation affected my nervous system rather severely.
PHLOX: I'll be with you in a moment. I'll provide you with
a full report when I've finished treating the crew.
REED: You wanted to see me, Captain?
ARCHER: I did. When T'Pol and I were navigating the debris field your
Tactical Alert went off.
REED: I heard, sir. I've already deactivated the new protocols.
ARCHER: You shouldn't have. They brought the weapons online right when
we needed them. If you have no objection I'd like to make it standard
REED: No objection, sir.
ARCHER: You still need to work on that alarm.
REED: I'll get right on it.
(Trip has just finished putting the Captain's
chair back in its place>)
ARCHER: It doesn't look any different to me.
TUCKER: Give it a try.
(Archer sits and pauses.)
ARCHER: It feels better. What'd you do?
TUCKER: Cross your legs.
ARCHER: What did you do? It seems totally different.
TUCKER: I lowered it, by one centimetre.
ARCHER: That's all?
TUCKER: Didn't have time to install the new status displays or the
inertial micro-dampers, but if you give me a couple of days.
ARCHER: I think this'll be fine, Commander. Thanks.
TUCKER: How about I just attach the cup holder?
ARCHER: This'll be fine.
(Tucker leaves, giving a thumbs up to Archer, which is returned. After a
couple of moments, Archer gets up and goes over to T'Pol with his PADD.)
ARCHER: How does this sound?