(Tuvok is in the Captain's chair.)
All right, all right, hold on. If you were married in 2304 and your
daughter was conceived in your eleventh pon farr, that would make you a
hundred and sixty two years old.
KIM: Come on, Tom, The man's not a day over one forty. We know you were
at least a hundred when you joined Starfleet the second time, so I'm
guessing you're around one thirty three?
TUVOK: Also incorrect. I'm afraid you both lack sufficient data to
reach a logical conclusion.
PARIS: Come on, Tuvok, tell us.
TUVOK: I see no reason to enlighten you.
KIM: Don't tell me Vulcans are embarrassed about their age.
TUVOK: On the contrary. We value the wisdom that comes with advancing
PARIS: In that case, how wise are you?
TUVOK: Wise enough to end this inquiry.
PARIS: Saved by the bell.
KIM: I've got a fleet of ships two hundred thousand kilometres dead
TUVOK: Can you identify them?
PARIS: I'm reading multiple hull configurations.
TUVOK: Raise shields. Red alert.
(Janeway and Chakotay enter from the ready room.)
TUVOK: We've detected a large group of vessels directly ahead.
TUVOK: Possibly. I'm charging weapons.
JANEWAY: On screen.
KIM: I'm counting sixty two ships and a few hundred pieces of ships. All
dead in space.
PARIS: It's a junkyard. Congratulations, Tuvok. You just saved us from
a flotilla of hostile trash.
KIM: We're being hailed.
JANEWAY: Let's see what they want.
ABADDON [on viewscreen]: Welcome to Abaddon's Repository of Lost
Treasures. Whether you're in the mood to buy or simply browse, we're
always open. Take a look. You may find something you never knew you
ABADDON: The name was passed down from my father and his father before
him. Not a very imaginative lot, but I'll answer to it just the same.
CHAKOTAY: I'm Commander Chakotay, this is Mister Neelix.
NEELIX: Welcome to Voyager.
ABADDON: Neelix, is it? You wouldn't be a fellow trader, would you?
NEELIX: What makes you say that.
ABADDON: Cheerful demeanour, furtive eyes. It's obvious you're a man of
CHAKOTAY: You're very perceptive, Mister Abaddon.
ABADDON: A useful skill in my line of work.
NEELIX: I'll admit there was a time when I dabbled in commerce but,
these days I focus my efforts on food and diplomacy.
ABADDON: Well, whether you're interested in a new iso-convective oven
or a slightly dated translation matrix, you've come to the right place.
My inventory, give or take a few items. After twenty years, it's hard
to keep up.
CHAKOTAY: Looks like you have an item or two we might be interested in.
NEELIX: Ah, the question is, what are you looking for in return?
ABADDON: Artificial gravity plating. Plasma-based power induction. Impressive.
CHAKOTAY: Those are integrated systems. Unfortunately, we couldn't
trade them to you without dismantling our whole ship.
NEELIX: Commander, don't we have some spare duranium sheeting in cargo
bay one? With a few modifications, it could be converted into gravity
CHAKOTAY: Good idea. Why don't you show Mister Abaddon our inventory?
Report back when you're done.
NEELIX: Yes, sir. Mister Abaddon, follow me please.
(They are scanning the vessels in the space junk yard.)
This guy's collected more technology than the Borg.
SEVEN: And almost all of it is useless.
PARIS: Wait. What's that?
PARIS: Grid forty nine alpha. Oh, she's beautiful.
KIM: It's just an old rust bucket.
PARIS: Are you kidding? Look at those lines. It's a work of art. That
ship wasn't assembled, it was sculpted. I think I'm in love.
That makes fifteen power regulators in fair condition, and three more
we could salvage with a little work. Seven has some doubts about the
ion exchange rods.
CHAKOTAY: We'll take a chance. Add them to the list. What about these
NEELIX: Oh, just a few items I thought might have some historical
value. They don't cost much.
CHAKOTAY: Looks like a good haul. If that's it?
NEELIX: Oh yes, there is one other item. A small vessel that could be
CHAKOTAY: We've already got a full complement of shuttles, not to
mention the Delta Flyer. What do we need with this derelict ship?
PARIS: Chakotay, this ship is a diamond in the rough. Sure, it's got
some scrapes and scratches, but, here, take a look at these systems. It
has a neurogenic interface that allows it to react directly to the
pilot's thoughts. That gives it the potential of being quicker and more
manoeuvrable than anything we've got, including the Delta Flyer.
NEELIX: Add to that an optronic weapons array.
CHAKOTAY: I get the picture. Are you sure you're not just looking for a
PARIS: No, absolutely not. Even B'Elanna thinks restoring this ship is
CHAKOTAY: Maybe. If we had the manpower to restore it.
PARIS: No, I'll do all the work myself. On my own time. And if I need a
hand, Harry's offered to help.
KIM: I have?
CHAKOTAY: What will it cost us?
NEELIX: Abaddon's agreed to give it to us for three used power cells
and Tom's interactive record collection.
PARIS: My jukebox.
CHAKOTAY: All right. One slightly used alien ship. Don't make me regret
PARIS: You won't.
Remember, just one seat, not much storage. She was designed for speed,
ABADDON: Make sure you go easy on the thrusters. She doesn't like being
ABADDON: Sensitive. She demands respect, like any fine piece of
PARIS: Sounds like you're sorry to let her go.
ABADDON: Well, in some ways she's like the daughter I couldn't marry
off. But that doesn't mean I'd trade her to just anyone. I've got a
feeling you're the kind of pilot that she needs. Someone that'll give
her the proper care and attention.
PARIS: I'm your man.
NEELIX: Don't worry, Mister Abaddon, she's in good hands.
Well, this has been a very productive exchange. Oh, just one more
NEELIX: Let me guess. All trades are final.
(Inside the little ship, in the shuttlebay.)
still can't get an active readout.
KIM: Here's the reason. Another damaged power cell.
PARIS: Oh, come on, Alice, how about it? Give us a break.
PARIS: Well, I've got to call her something.
KIM: How about The Lost Cause?
PARIS: Alice Battisti was the Lost Cause. I knew her back at the
Academy. She was smart, sexy, but she wouldn't give me the time of day.
KIM: All right, Alice it is. Try it again.
PARIS: I've got a pulse.
KIM: A little snug.
PARIS: As Seven would say, an efficient design. The main computer's
KIM: There's not much in it. Just a few schematics. Looks like somebody
tried to wipe the database.
PARIS: Probably rolled the odometer back, too. Let's see what this
neurogenic interface can do.
(A metal band comes out of the pilot's head restraint half way around his head. The ship powers up properly.)
KIM: What's it like?
PARIS: It's kind of hard to describe. I'm tapped into all the primary
systems. Ops, tactical, sensors.
(Then it switches off and the band retracts.)
PARIS: What happened?
KIM: We just blew out two more power cells.
PARIS: See if you can reconfigure the power distribution grid.
KIM: Look, we're both tired. Why don't we call it a night, come back
PARIS: Come on, we can still get a couple more hours in.
KIM: You can get a couple more hours in. I'm going to bed.
PARIS: All right, you win. Good night, Alice. See you in the morning.
(They leave the shuttlebay. The little ship powers up.)
PARIS [on monitor]: Good night, Alice. See you in the morning. See you
in the morning.
(It displays a scan of Paris' brain.)
ALICE [OC]: See you in the morning. See you in the morning.
(Paris is distracted from his PADD by a breathy female voice.)
(He leaves his quarters.)
Who are you?
ALICE [OC]: It's me, Alice.
(Next day, Paris enters.)
Good morning, Alice.
works on the little ship's systems, and cleans the hull. Finally, he
pins his comm. badge onto a brand new silver spacesuit.)
Sorry, you're going to have to trust me on this. You'll be a lot
happier if we can bypass the EPS relays.
KIM: Who are you talking to?
PARIS: Alice. She's being very stubborn today. No matter what I do, I
can't get her to bring her propulsion systems online.
KIM: Next question. What are you wearing?
PARIS: This is a flight suit design I found in Alice's database.
Something her last pilot used to wear.
KIM: For a minute, I thought you were changing Captain Proton's look.
PARIS: Oh, The Web of Pain. I completely forgot.
KIM: No problem. I've got another hour on the holodeck.
PARIS: Now's not a great time. How about tomorrow?.
KIM: That's what you said yesterday.
PARIS: Sorry, Harry. Alice needs me.
KIM: So does Arachnia.
PARIS: Give the queen my regards. Okay.
Seven, can I get you something?
SEVEN: A refund. The star charts we obtained from Abaddon are
SEVEN: The computations are based on obsolete data.
NEELIX: It's not the only item that didn't live up to its advertising.
(Seven looks at the items Neelix is cleaning.)
SEVEN: Cultural artefacts?
NEELIX: According to Abaddon, they're lost treasures of the Delta
quadrant. If you ask me, they're worthless trinkets. (She picks up a gem embedded in a piece of clear material.)
SEVEN: Perhaps not. This crystal is beryllium.
SEVEN: Beryllium is the standard currency in spatial grid five three
nine. There are species that would trade an entire fleet of starships
for this trinket.
NEELIX: If Abaddon knew about this, he'd never have traded it for a few
plasma couplings. Maybe I should return it.
SEVEN: Need I remind you? All trades are final.
PARIS: Neelix, I need one bottle of champagne, if you don't mind.
NEELIX: Another anniversary?
PARIS: No, I'm christening Alice.
NEELIX: Congratulations. I'll whip up some hors d'oeuvres for the crew.
PARIS: Oh no, don't bother. This is a private ceremony. Just me and
NEELIX: And Alice, of course.
PARIS: Oh yes, of course.
NEELIX: There's nothing like having your own ship. I remember when I
first laid eyes on my little freighter, Baxial.
PARIS: No, don't tell me. Love at first sight.
NEELIX: Actually, I thought she was the ugliest thing I ever saw. But
she grew on me. Eventually, I couldn't imagine being without her. You
know, she's still down at the shuttlebay. Why don't we get her and
Alice together and go on a double date.
PARIS: You pack the picnic basket, I'll bring the deuterium.
So, I finally get to meet the other woman.
PARIS: Well, don't be too critical, she's a long way from finished.
TORRES: When have you ever known me to be critical?
PARIS: Is that a trick question? Okay, ready?
TORRES: It's beautiful. I can hardly believe it's the same ship.
PARIS: Yeah, most of it isn't. I've replaced the impulse reactor,
navigational array, er, plasma manifolds. The list goes on and on. Just
a few more repairs, and she'll be spaceworthy. Care to do the honours?
TORRES: It's almost a shame to break this over the hull.
PARIS: You have a point.
(They open the champagne to drink it.)
Oh, be careful The upholstery.
TORRES: I'll send an Engineering team down to clean it up. To Alice.
PARIS: To Alice.
TORRES: So when's her first flight?
PARIS: A couple of days, if I can round up all the parts I need. You
want to come with me?
TORRES: Sure there's room?
PARIS: It'll be a tight squeeze.
TORRES: We'll manage.
PARIS: Hold on.
TORRES: Something wrong?
PARIS: It's these environmental controls. They need recalibrating.
TORRES: It is kind of warm in here, isn't it?
PARIS: Alice, lower the ambient temperature.
ALICE [OC]: Please specify, Tom.
PARIS: Five degrees should do it.
ALICE [OC]: Temperature modification complete.
TORRES: That's some voice.
PARIS: It came with the ship. Are you jealous?
TORRES: Maybe I should be. I hear you've been sleeping here.
PARIS: When Alice lets me sleep.
TORRES: Sounds like a real slave driver. Well, if you're trying to make
improvements, you might want to start with these reactant injectors. The
deuterium mix is too high.
PARIS: That's how Alice likes it. No, don't touch that.
TORRES: I was just trying to help.
PARIS: Well, thanks, but we're fine.
TORRES: We? It's a ship, Tom.
PARIS: Yeah, but she's my ship.
TORRES: Well then, maybe I'll leave the two of you alone.
PARIS: Okay. I'll see you later.
TORRES: Thanks for the champagne.
(Torres touches the door control and gets a shock.)
PARIS: Oh, sorry. I need to fix that.
Thirty metres of EPS conduit? A broadband sensor matrix? A tactical
data module? Tom, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I can't spare these
parts right now.
PARIS: They're just lying around Cargo Bay two.
CHAKOTAY: Those are emergency supplies, and this isn't an emergency.
PARIS: Okay, what if I just replicated some?
CHAKOTAY: That takes energy, which isn't exactly in abundance at the
moment. Maybe in a few weeks, if we can replenish our power reserve.
PARIS: A few weeks? What am I supposed to do until then?
CHAKOTAY: Your duties, which you've been neglecting. You've been late
for two shifts in Sickbay. You've been distracted on the bridge.
Maybe it's time you gave this project a rest.
PARIS: Yeah, you're right. I guess I have been overdoing it.
CHAKOTAY: You look run down. Maybe you should stop by Sickbay and have
the Doctor take a look at you.
PARIS: No, I'm fine. I just haven't been getting enough sleep.
CHAKOTAY: Well, your next shift isn't till oh seven hundred. Why don't
you do yourself a favour and turn in early.
PARIS: Yeah. Good idea.
CHAKOTAY: One more thing. I'd appreciate it if you'd shave and change
back into your uniform. We do have protocols.
PARIS: Yes, sir.
CHAKOTAY: We'll get your Alice flying. Just give it some time.
Sorry, Alice, we'll have to put the test flight on hold. All we need is
a few lousy spare parts, but to listen to Chakotay you'd think Voyager
would grind to a halt without them.
(A brunette in the same style of flight suit is leaning against Alice's hull.)
ALICE: But we're so close.
PARIS: Well, he gave me a direct order.
ALICE: Since when do you care so much about orders?
PARIS: I'm already an Ensign. You want to see me busted down to Cadet?
ALICE: Don't take that off.
PARIS: Well, I'm afraid I have to get back into uniform. Protocol.
ALICE: Forget about protocol. Once my repairs are complete, we can go
PARIS: Leave Voyager?
ALICE: It's been a long time since I met a pilot I've been
compatible with. We can go anywhere you want.
PARIS: It's very tempting, Alice, but I can't just take off.
ALICE: What's holding you back?
PARIS: My job, for one thing. My friends. B'Elanna.
ALICE: She doesn't understand you the way I do. None of them do.
PARIS: Look, maybe we can make the test flight in a few weeks. And if
it goes well, I'm sure the Captain will assign us on missions together. But I can't leave Voyager.
ALICE: All right. I'm sure you know what's best for us.
PARIS: Yeah, I think I do.
ALICE: You look a little tired. How about some rest?
ALICE: Sit back, relax.
Let me help you with this.
(She refastens his flight suit. It has acquired three nodes by the collar.)
PARIS: What are these?
ALICE: Just some modifications I made to your flight suit. They'll help
us work together more closely. I'll show you. Activate the interface.
Just for a minute. You won't regret it. What do you say we continue
with those repairs?
How's it coming?
(Paris' beard is getting more obvious.)
PARIS: This is the last power cell, then we'll just need the data
module from section beta twelve.
ALICE: What's wrong?
PARIS: Oh, these relays are just tricky, that's all.
ALICE: You're not being honest with me. I thought we agreed to tell
each other everything.
PARIS: Well, it's just, we're compromising vital systems.
ALICE: Backup systems.
PARIS: If there's an emergency, Voyager's going to need them.
ALICE: If your friends had been more understanding, we wouldn't have to
be sneaking around like this.
PARIS: I've spent the last six years with these people. They're like my
ALICE: Sometimes you have to leave your family behind. They're not like
us. They're trapped by rules and regulations. Velocity, freedom. They'll never understand these things the way we do.
PARIS: Yeah, maybe you're right.
ALICE: Of course I am. You don't belong here. You belong with me.
You're thinking about your first flight, aren't you? Tell me.
PARIS: Dad took me up in an old S class shuttle. Two seats, no warp
drive, manual helm controls. I was eight years old and I was scared out
of my wits.
ALICE: You couldn't keep the ship level.
PARIS: No, not at first. But then came this moment of clarity, when
suddenly everything made sense.
ALICE: The clouds parted.
PARIS: I was flying. No matter how many starships I've piloted since
then, I'm still chasing that feeling.
ALICE: Tomorrow you'll catch it. Only this time there won't be any
clumsy controls to get in the way. Just you, me, and the stars.
(Paris is working on a flight plan. He clears the screen when Seven enters.)
SEVEN: I wasn't aware you were assigned to Astrometrics.
PARIS: I was just passing by. I guess curiosity got the best of me.
SEVEN: Are you planning an away mission? You were charting a course.
PARIS: Oh, that. No, I was just taking a peek at what's ahead of us. All
SEVEN: You've modified your garment.
PARIS: Adapted, actually. I made a few tweaks to enhance Alice's
neurogenic interface. You know, the merging of man and machine.
SEVEN: Perhaps you should learn more about this interface before you
attempt to use it.
ALICE: Convince her it's safe.
PARIS: I ran diagnostics of every system on board that ship. There's
nothing to worry about.
SEVEN: Perhaps I should examine it.
ALICE: Make an excuse and leave.
PARIS: It's nice of you to offer, but it's really not necessary. I have
to get back to work.
Power fluctuation's down to four point seven percent. Looks like
Abaddon's regulators might work out after all,
TORRES: Keep at it. The last thing we need is a temperamental power
KIM: Bad day at the office?
TORRES: Bad night with Tom Paris. You're his best friend, right?
KIM: So he tells me.
TORRES: So maybe you can explain why every time he finds a new hobby, I
go right out the airlock.
KIM: I wouldn't take it personally. The Ferengi call it the Five Stages
of Acquisition. Infatuation, Justification, Appropriation, Obsession,
and Resale. Seems like you only got one stage left before he loses
interest in that ship and he's all yours again.
TORRES: Until the next infatuation. We've got a point zero zero three
drop in the warp field output.
KIM: That's within parameters.
TORRES: Not on my watch. Somebody's removed four power cells from the
secondary warp assembly without authorisation.
KIM: Whoever it was tried to cover his tracks by rerouting power from
adjacent cells. Should we tell Tuvok?
TORRES: Don't bother. This is an open and shut case.
(She walks around Alice and finds some tools.)
TORRES: Well Alice, looks like you've been borrowing my things
(The hatch closes behind Torres.)
Hey! Computer, open the hatch.
ALICE [OC]: Unable to comply. Warning. Life support failure.
TORRES: Torres to the bridge. Torres to Chakotay. Anybody!
(Paris enters the shuttlebay and sees Torres hammering on the front window, just before she collapses.)
PARIS: B'Elanna, what are you doing here?
TORRES: Let me out of here!
What the hell happened in there?
TORRES: Your ship tried to kill me.
PARIS: That's ridiculous.
TORRES: It sealed the hatch, vented the atmosphere.
PARIS: You must have accidentally tripped environmental controls.
TORRES: Don't you try to tell me this was an accident.
PARIS: What else could it have been?
TORRES: How about pilot error?
PARIS: Are you saying that this was my fault?
TORRES: What's gotten into you? You've been stealing components, Tom. I
found the power cells.
PARIS: A few spare parts. You're overreacting.
TORRES: Am I?
PARIS: Where are you going?
TORRES: To talk to the Captain.
TORRES: There's something wrong with you.
PARIS: Listen to me!
TORRES: Are you out of your mind?
PARIS: Stay out of this, B'Elanna!
TORRES: Or what? You'll sic Alice on me again?
(Torres runs off.)
ALICE: Let her go.
PARIS: What were you thinking? You could have killed her!
ALICE: She broke into my database. She was going to discover our flight
plan. Not that it matters now.
PARIS: What is that supposed to mean?
ALICE: Keep your voice down. Once your girlfriend talks to the captain
they'll drag you straight to Sickbay. One neural scan and they'll know
all about us.
PARIS: Well, maybe it's time they did.
ALICE: Think you can just walk away?
PARIS: Watch me.
(Alice appears ahead of him.)
ALICE: So, I guess this is the real Tom Paris. Life throws up a few
roadblocks and he heads for the nearest exit.
PARIS: Get away from me.
ALICE: I need you.
PARIS: You should have thought of that before you tried to kill B'Elanna.
ALICE: Remember how you felt when you first saw me? You knew we were
meant to be together.
PARIS: I was wrong.
ALICE: Think of how it feels when you're sitting at the helm, and the
interface is active.
PARIS: It's over, Alice. One way or the other, I'm getting the hell
away from you.
ALICE: I'm sorry you feel that way.
(Paris screams and sinks to his knees.)
PARIS: Argh! What are you doing to me?
ALICE: Convincing you to do the right thing. Take us the shuttlebay.
We're leaving Voyager.
PARIS: No! Argh!
ALICE: Please, Tom. I don't want to hurt you. The shuttlebay, now.
PARIS: Deck ten. Shuttlebay.
This isn't the first time you and Tom have had an argument about how he
spends his free time.
TORRES: This wasn't a lovers' quarrel. Captain, he practically
JANEWAY: Well, that doesn't sound like Tom.
TORRES: It wasn't Tom. It was Alice.
JANEWAY: Now you've lost me.
TORRES: That's the name that he's calling this new ship. Ever since he
started working on it, he hasn't slept, he's become irritable,
irrational. It's not just me. Chakotay and Harry have noticed the same
JANEWAY: This new ship. It has some kind of neurogenic interface.
TORRES: Exactly. It must be having some kind of an effect on him.
JANEWAY: All right, I'll have the Doctor take a look at him. But in the
meantime, I want you
CHAKOTAY [OC]: Captain, we have an unauthorised launch in progress.
Seal the shuttlebay doors.
KIM: Too late, he's out.
(Alice flies away.)
KIM: His shields are up. I can't get a transporter
JANEWAY: Tractor beam.
They're trying to tractor us.
ALICE: Stop them.
PARIS: I can't.
ALICE: You'll be able to manoeuvre much better if you complete the
ALICE: Activate the connector sequence.
(Cables come out of the pilot's seat and into the nodes on his flight suit.)
ALICE: We're one now, Tom. Think of
what you want me to do, and I'll do it.
PARIS: We can disrupt their tractor beam with an optronic pulse.
ALICE: Good. You have access to our weapons. Use them.
He's charging weapons.
CHAKOTAY: Full power to the shields.
TORRES: He's disrupting our tractor beam.
JANEWAY: Increase power to the emitters. We'll drag him in by his heels
if we have to.
TUVOK: He's broken free, Captain.
JANEWAY: Janeway to Paris. Stand down and return to Voyager
I'm with Alice now, Captain. Let us go.
You know I can't do that, Tom.
She'll do anything to get you back. I don't blame her for that, but we
have to stop her.
ALICE: You know.
He's coming about.
TUVOK: He's charging weapons again. Direct hit.
JANEWAY: Return fire.
KIM: He's gone to warp.
JANEWAY: Track him.
TORRES: He masked his warp signature. He's gone.
And Daedalus fashioned wings from wax and feathers and used them to
escape his prison.
PARIS: That's one of my favourite myths.
ALICE: I know.
PARIS: But you left out the part where Icarus flew too close to the sun
and his wings melted.
(There are a lot more cables now attaching Paris to Alice.)
ALICE: Poetic license. Besides, if we get too close to a star we have
shielding to protect us. What is it?
PARIS: My arms. They feel numb.
ALICE: Who need arms when you have wings? You're becoming a part of me
now. Our potential is unlimited. Forget the old Tom Paris. He doesn't
(Voyager has returned to the junk yard.)
[on viewscreen]: You know my policy.
JANEWAY: We're not looking for a refund, just some information.
ABADDON [on viewscreen]: That's one commodity I don't keep in stock. I
suggest you look elsewhere.
JANEWAY: Not until we get some answers.
ABADDON [on viewscreen]: You'll find I'm prepared to deal with
TUVOK: Captain, I'm reading active weapons signatures on three of the
derelict ships. They are targeting Voyager.
JANEWAY: Before we take actions we both might regret, Mister Neelix has
something to show you.
NEELIX: I wanted to say thank you for this lost treasure.
ABADDON [on viewscreen]: A beryllium crystal.
NEELIX: I'm surprised a trader of your distinction would let this slip
through his fingers. I could say all trades are final, but we'd be
willing to give it back in exchange for some cooperation.
ABADDON: That's what the Haarkonian told me when he traded her. I blamed
his wild stories on isolation sickness and then took the ship off his
CHAKOTAY: Did you ever notice anything odd about the ship?
ABADDON: Odd? You could say that. I tried turning her into a towing
vessel. She was cooperative at first but then she began to require
ALICE: I hope you haven't forgotten me.
(This time, she is the same race as Abaddon.)
NEELIX: Mister Abaddon?
ABADDON: Where was I?
CHAKOTAY: Constant repairs.
ABADDON: Right. Please, I wasn't going to tell them anything.
TUVOK: Who were you speaking to?
ABADDON: No one. I, I, I have to leave now. I'll return the items you
traded for the ship. Leave me alone. I did what you told me. I found
you a pilot.
JANEWAY: What is it? What are you seeing?
ABADDON: It's her. She's right in front of me.
CHAKOTAY: There's no one there.
ABADDON: Transport me back now. Argh!
(He clutches his head and collapses.)
JANEWAY: Janeway to Sickbay. Medical emergency.
suffered a cerebral haemorrhage. Fortunately, I was able to repair the
damage in time.
JANEWAY: What caused it?
EMH: It appears his neural pathways were recently restructured. I
detected a neurogenic signature.
JANEWAY: Looks like Alice got to him, too. Wake him.
ABADDON: She was here.
EMH: The woman you saw was an hallucination created by the derelict
ship's neurogenic interface. I've given you a cortical suppressant. She
won't be bothering you anymore.
JANEWAY: Tell me. What does this ship want with our crewman?
ABADDON: She can't fly herself, she needs a pilot. A biological entity
to work in tandem with her programming.
JANEWAY: Well, if all she needed was a pilot, why didn't she just
ABADDON: I wasn't compatible. She said my reflexes were too slow, that
I was as useless as the junk that I traded, and I couldn't get her to
where she needed to go. Don't ask me for the coordinates. She never
told me. Just insisted that I get her a real pilot. I'm sorry I didn't
warn you before. I couldn't resist her.
SEVEN [OC]: Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway. Please report to
I've managed to reconstruct the data Ensign Paris was working on. My
suspicion was correct. It is a course trajectory.
JANEWAY: Let's see it.
SEVEN: It terminates in spatial grid eight six seven.
JANEWAY: Looks uninhabited.
SEVEN: It's empty space, with the exception of a small anomaly.
JANEWAY: A particle fountain. The Federation lost more than a dozen
ships examining a similar phenomenon in the Alpha Quadrant. Relay the
coordinates to the bridge.
Take us out of warp. Can you see it now?
PARIS: Yes. What is it?
(It is the particle fountain.)
(Voyager arrives at the fountain, too.)
KIM: Six million kilometres.
JANEWAY: Decrease speed to one quarter impulse. Full power to shields.
TUVOK: I'm detecting a vessel off our starboard bow.
KIM: It's Tom. He's headed right for the anomaly.
JANEWAY: Can you get a transporter lock?
KIM: No, ma'am, not with those multiphasic shields in place.
JANEWAY: Are we in hailing range?
TUVOK: Opening a channel. He's responding.
PARIS [on viewscreen]: Keep your distance, Captain, or we'll open fire.
JANEWAY: Tom, listen to me. The neurogenic interface is affecting your
judgment. Drop your shields
[OC]: And let us beam you aboard.
ALICE: Ignore them. Keep going.
He's not responding.
JANEWAY: Target his propulsion systems and fire.
(Tom feels the weapons hit personally.)
TUVOK: Direct hit. The vessel's shields are holding.
EMH [OC]: Doctor to the bridge.
Cease fire. Ensign Paris' neural readings are fluctuating. His synaptic
functions have become linked to the ship. If we keep firing we could
injure him. Severely.
JANEWAY [OC]: Acknowledged.
Tuvok, stand down.
KIM: We've got ten minutes until he reaches the particle fountain.
CHAKOTAY: Is there any way to disable their shields without firing
TUVOK: If I could access their main computer and transmit a shutdown
KIM: Problem is, Tom and Alice would detect it. They'd compensate.
JANEWAY: Unless we find a way to distract them. Bridge to the Doctor.
EMH [OC]: Go ahead.
JANEWAY: Any progress on your analysis of the neurogenic interface?
EMH [OC]: Not yet, Captain.
JANEWAY: Would it be possible to tap into the interface using a comm.
believe so, but I don't know what that would accomplish.
You've got five minutes. Do it.
[OC]: And tell B'Elanna to prepare for an away mission.
We're four minutes away.
JANEWAY: Bridge to Sickbay.
(Torres has a blinkie on her temple.)
EMH: Stand by, Captain. I'm making the final adjustments.
TORRES: I'm not sure how I feel about getting inside Tom's head.
EMH: Maybe you'll be able to explain a few things when you get back.
knew you were the one. No one's ever got me this close before.
PARIS: I'll have you home in just a few minutes.
ALICE: I promise you won't be disappointed.
TORRES: Don't believe her.
PARIS: Where's Alice?
TORRES: There is no Alice. She's a pile of circuits in the ship's
computer core. You're letting a
programme delude you.
Doctor to bridge. She's in.
TUVOK: Accessing their main computer.
You don't understand. This is what I've always dreamed of.
TORRES: You're still dreaming, And when you wake up you're in for a big
PARIS: Alice needs me.
TORRES: So do I.
ALICE: Nice sentiment, but it's a lie. Your family will do anything to
keep us apart. Don't listen to them.
TORRES: Tom, it's me. B'Elanna. Alice is an illusion.
ALICE: I'm giving you what you always wanted, something they can never
do. Does that sound like an illusion?
PARIS: I can't think. Leave me alone, both of you.
ALICE: They've accessed our systems. They're trying to disable my
shields. Stop them.
TORRES: Focus on me. Listen to me.
ALICE: My shields are failing. Do something.
TORRES: It's time to come home.
TORRES: Hang on. We're going to get you out of here.
I've got it, Captain. Their shields are down.
JANEWAY: Beam him to Sickbay.
KIM: There's too much interference from the particle fountain.
CHAKOTAY: I'm boosting the confinement beam. Try it now.
KIM: We've got him.
TUVOK: Alice is losing helm control.
(Alice plunges into the particle fountain and explodes.)
JANEWAY: Resume course to the Alpha Quadrant.
(Paris is clean-shaven and back in Starfleet uniform.)
You'll need a few days to fully recover. Think you can manage to stay
off your feet for that long?
TORRES: If he doesn't, I'll break his legs.
EMH: Well then, I'll leave you to B'Elanna's tender mercies.
TORRES: I've got something for you. It's a get well card from Naomi
Wildman. It's a pretty good likeness of you, but I don't think she
quite captured my eyes.
PARIS: I'm sorry. For everything.
TORRES: It wasn't your fault.
PARIS: But I remember all of it. Everything I said, everything I did.
It was like I was sleepwalking.
TORRES: The important thing is, you woke up.
PARIS: Yeah. Thanks for being my alarm clock.
TORRES: Any time.
PARIS: From now on, I promise no more affairs with strange ships.
TORRES: What about the Delta Flyer?
PARIS: We're just friends.