04x01 - Twovix

[bunniefuu]

We've arrived in
the Portelo system, Captain.

Any idea what we're
supposed to be doing?

Starfleet was unusually
tight-lipped on the details.

The whole mission's classified.

Take us in.

I wonder what
the big mystery is.

Ugh, I hope it's not
a Romulan Neutral Zone thing.

Spy stuff's so boring.

Uh, ah, ah, man.

Whatever it is, I have to start
with holodeck waste removal.

- Blech.
- I don't know,

but I can't wait
to find out with you.

'Sup, ladies? How's science?

We just catalogued some
pretty cool hydrogen samples.

Hydrogen is the most common
element in the universe.

Sweet. See you guys at lunch.

Boimler, make sure you
shower first. Holodeck duty.

Your odor will be repulsive.

Oh, thank you so much, T'Lyn.

You are welcome.

Oh-ho-ho.

Don't get too used to this kind
of work, Mr. Boimler.

Promotions are coming up, and
I think you'll be very happy.

Wait, really? I-I...

I'm getting a promotion?

As long as nothing
goes sideways today,

you'll be a lieutenant
junior grade.

- But stuff always goes sideways.
- Relax.

You'd have to screw up in
a historically significant way

- to mess this one up.
- Okay, yeah.

What are the odds of that?
Oh, oh!

Uh...

Approaching
the mystery station, Captain.

I hope this isn't
a Romulan thing.

- I hate the Neutral Zone.
- Right? Thank you.

Sorry for the secrecy, Captain,

but after all these years,
we finally finished.

Beljo Tweekle,
curator and historian.

Curator? What, are we
transporting some type of art?

Perhaps the most
beautiful work of art

in Starfleet history.

Oh, my God, we get to do
something on Voyager?

Uh, you know, 'cause, I mean,
Boimler's gonna flip.

Captain's log, stardate .

In a pleasant surprise,
the Cerritos has been tasked

with transporting
the USS Voyager.

Captain Janeway and her crew
spent seven years

trying to get home
from the Delta Quadrant,

and they became Federation
history in the process.

Since their return,
Voyager has been decommissioned

and preserved
for future generations.

Her first stop, is Starfleet Command,

where she'll spend
some time on the ground

before being permanently
stationed in orbit.

Careful.

That's a mission-worn uniform.

My legacy depends on everything
making it to Earth

in pristine condition.

Unzak, when he guided
the florkas to their roost.

Whatever. Just don't
touch anything.

- Oopsie-doodle.
- What are you doing?

Just taking a peek
at the bio-neural circuitry.

One time,
Neelix had this cheese,

and the bacteria
almost destroyed...

I know all about
the Neelix cheese.

There's a whole display for it
on Deck Seven.

Don't open panels.

The ship was damaged by cheese?

- It's Voyager.
- got freaky.

Hmm. This ship is outdated
and smells like Borg.

What about Tuvok?

You must be excited
to see his quarters.

Perhaps. Are they austere?

These boxes are for
a rotating exhibit.

Store them on the Cerritos,
and please be careful.

Are you chewing gum?

Ooh, after this, you want to get

a head start on tomorrow's
titrations with me?

We can label
the test tubes.

I do enjoy an accurate label.

There we go, all calibrated.

Hey, Doc, uh, want a ride back?

Beats taking a shuttle.

You know, growing up, I had
a dragon named Fiddlesticks.

He was such a good boy.

He protected me from
all sorts of affectionate...

Oh . Why is it people

always have to tell me
about their pets?

Right. Sorry.

Cerritos, two to beam up.

Copy, Commander.
Energizing.

Something is wrong, sir.

There's only one pattern.

What the?

Where am I? And, uh...

who am I?

Captain, we have a problem.

Something over there caused
Billups and Dr. T'Ana

to merge in the transporter.

He's calling himself T'Illups.

This exact scenario happened
to the Voyagercrew.

Everything is falling apart!

No need for panic.

I'm sure I can deal with
this transporter situation

- on my own.
- Oh...

Just send me a copy
of Janeway's logs.

I'll do whatever she did.

Sending now.
Thank you, Captain.

She knows Janeway straight up
m*rder*d Tuvix, right?

Huh? Oh, I-I don't know.

What? Yes, you do.
You're a know-it-all.

Get your head in the game.

This is a historically
significant mission.

It's Voy, man.

I mean, it's not that
historically significant.

What? Yes, it is.

I'm gonna make sure
going to warp

didn't knock anything over.

We've got inertial dampeners.

I'm sure everything is fine.

It won't be fine until
we're on the ground.

Relax. They design these things
to survive a photon blast.

Oops. Uh, let me just...

Wait. There's something
behind the neural gel.

- Somebody phaser it!
- Look out!

- Oh, God, it's on me!
- Ugh, don't let it infect you.

- Don't sh**t.
- Why not?

It's a Tak Takian macrovirus.

It must've been dormant.

Macrovirus?
Is it making me sick?

Everyone got inoculated
years ago. It can't hurt you.

But it is perfect
for the museum.

Good virus.
Just stay right there.

Temba, his arms wide.

They're spraying DNA
on my babies.

- Don't let them off the bridge.
- Right, um, so...

Just stand in front of the door.

- Boimler, are you kidding me?
- Come on, man.

Shaka, when the walls fell,
Ensign.

- Sokath, his eyes uncovered.
- I pay attention.

How can you be this distracted
over an empty ship?

Uh, you know,
Chakotay served here.

Dude, this is nothing compared
to, you know, that Pike thing

we aren't supposed
to talk about.

Let's get these chunky
cold sores under control

so we can get back
to enjoying this.

They're self-replicating again!

Mr. Boimler, get out here.

This is your fault.

I told you,
I feel great.

Here, let me boost the range
on that scanner.

He's been
symbiogenetically merged

on a subcellular level, Captain.

It's called being Tuvixed.

The same thing happened
to Commander Tuvok

and Neelix back in the ' s.

They beamed out
with this flower,

and it caused them
to merge into Tuvix,

a combination of
their DNA and memories.

That orchid was in
one of the boxes we moved.

It must've gotten
into the transporter.

And that's how T'Illups
was born.

Captain, I caution against
socializing with the organism.

Organism? I'm a totally
unique sentient being.

Plus, I'm cool as.

We're gonna be
best friends fast.

Yeah, T'Lyn, it doesn't hurt
to be friendly,

since Mr. T'Illups didn't ask
to be created.

Sure didn't, but here I am.

I love being alive.

Well, I'm sure that Janeway
had a solution to this.

I'll be back shortly.

How many physical memories

do you have from before?

Don't let them touch
the exhibits!

No!

Initiating programs Chaotica,

Clown and Michael Sullivan.

Safety protocols set to random.

Random? No.
Computer, set them to safety.

- Ooh.
- Surrender now,

or face the wrath of Chaotica.

These are, like,
Voy'sdeepest cuts.

Not as deep as my cuts. Yah!

How are these guys
even getting off the holodeck?

I installed holo-emitters
all over the ship.

I thought you were preserving,
not adding.

Oh, subtle updates that don't
impact historical consistency

are an acceptable compromise
for conservation.

Wha... Chaotica isn't subtle,

and the Clown wasn't even
a holodeck pro...

I love you, but I can't
be with you.

Ooh, I like this guy, though.

- Watch out! The Borg display!
- I got it!

That promotion is starting to
seem a little less likely,

Mr. Boimler.

Did Janeway figure it out?

No, she just m*rder*d him.

There has to be more to it.

She isolated the genomes
and split 'em up.

He begged her to live.

Holy.
Janeway didn't mess around.

I don't want to k*ll the guy.

I mean, he didn't do
anything wrong.

We aren't stranded
in the Delta Quadrant.

We could take him to Earth
and get some help.

Good call. Let's hurry.

Captain, do you think Dr. T'Ana
will be okay?

I think so,
but it didn't take us long

to look up Janeway's solution.

Let's just hope Mr. T'Illups
doesn't do the same.

Are you kidding me?

Dr. Migleemo,
I need your help, uh,

processing my existence.

Oh, what a dream.

Don't do any self-care
until I get there.

Help! Help!

I can feel it trying
to regenerate me.

Uh, maybe if I cut power,
we can...

Stop helping, Ensign Boimler.

Why don't you take a break.

The alcove's activated. Look.

What the hell is that?

It's a Borg nanite.
We must have missed one.

It's supposed
to be microscopic.

It must have assimilated
to the macrovirus.

It's a macro-nanite?

Congratulations.

You've won more Clowns.

I can't resist your touch.

- Let me hold you.
- Computer!

Delete this guy.
Come on, computer.

We just want to talk,
Mr. T'Illups.

I don't think so.
You're gonna k*ll me.

I promise you
I'm not k*lling anyone,

but I am coming in.

Help!

She's trying to k*ll me!

We're going to figure this out.

What? I can't hear you.

The Cerritos isn't stuck
in the Delta Quadrant,

and Starfleet has
the best doctors in the...

I know how this goes down.

Which is why I need allies.

No, wait!

Behold, Captain Dr. Frigleeman.

Bring me more scrumptious
senior staff.

That's an order.

No!

Water, room temperature.

So, you're really okay
with k*lling T'Illups?

I am here to hydrate, not debate
on an anomaly's agency.

Well, I don't know.
I just don't think it's ethical

to end someone's life
to get our friends back.

I hardly know
anyone here at all.

- I am impartial.
- But we're friends.

Right?

The bartender.

Tuvix him with Lundy.

He's making more hybrids.

That appears to be
an accurate assessment.

My career is ruined!

Some of this stuff
got in my mouth.

I'm getting you out of here.
Just hang tight.

Dude, you don't need me.

Did Chaotica's ray g*n steal all
your confidence or something?

No, I'm just...

- I'm having an off day.
- Ugh!

This was supposed to be fun,
and you ruined it.

- Voyager'sjust a ship, man.
- It's not that.

Ransom was gonna
promote me today,

but I don't want it.

What are you talking about?

Did you eat some
of that virus slime?

I'm worried it'll be
like the Titan.

It took us months
to repair our friendship.

I... I can't do that again.

This is a totally
different situation.

It's not just that.

I should've believed you

when the captain sent
you to Starbase .

I have bad judgment.
I-I don't deserve a promotion.

You adorable idiot.

I'm the one who told Ransom
to promote you.

- You did?
- Yes.

I was just keeping my mouth shut
so it'd be a surprise.

You aren't mad at me?

No. Look, I am really touched,

but this is why
we can't keep secrets.

One of us always ends up
covered in slime.

Yeah, and it's not coming up.

Would you just go save the ship
already? You don't need me.

Thanks, Mariner.
I'm glad we're friends.

Ew! Did you just
pat me on the head?

Yeah, it felt weird to me, too.
I'm sorry.

You are Chondus,
and you're with friends.

This is Shabarnes
and Swhale Swhalens.

He's a combination of Steve
Stevens and Matt the whale.

I want a fish.

He's not my best work,
but it matters not.

Soon, the entire crew
will be a Tuvix army!

Prepare to energize.

We have to do something.

I am already taking
control of the transporters.

- You can do that?
- Starfleet systems

are easily circumvented.

Hey, what are you doing?

You combined all of them
into one big Tuvix-y meatball?

Perhaps I could still split them

into their individual
components.

Why isn't it working?

I cannot isolate
their genetic signatures.

There are too many
merged hybrids.

Confirm new heading.

Setting a course
to Borg Cube .

Computer, cancel!

I miss my wife.

Mr. Boimler.

Zap this stuff
and get me down from here.

No time. I need an engineer.

- Ow.
- Sorry.

Wait! Free us, too!

If we survive this, we're
having a long talk, Mr. Boim...

Uh...

Okay,

the macro bots
have locked us out,

but we need to shut down
main systems.

Um, um, uh,
we got to break Voyager.

I got to break Voyager.
Ooh, I have just the thing.

Yes, I knew you would.

The method employed by
the Voyager's EMH

can only mark one individual.

High command will not
be impressed with my error.

That scanner T'Illups suggested

picks up all sorts of stuff,
including personality traits.

That's how we can fix this.

I fail to see how that
helps me differentiate

a whale from Steve Stevens.

Because you don't know them.
Look.

This area is proud, confident
and a little silly.

Oh, that's the captain.

If I isolate genetic code

and you mark
their personalities...

We can get everyone back.

Why are you helping me?

Do you not have ethical problems
with this solution?

Well, yeah, I did, but, uh,

this is a non-sentient
blob of meat,

so I'm willing to go outside
my comfort zone.

I mean, for our friends.

Hmm. Thank you.

Are you sure this is gonna work?

Nope, but it feels like
a kooky Voyager solution,

- so it's worth a try.
- Bridge.

Any last words
before you feel the sting of my

electro Luger?

Ha! There's only one thing

you haven't thought of,
Dr. Chaotica.

Please, I think
of everything at all times.

That's what you think.

What are you babbling
about, fool?

I am not a Starfleet ensign.

I am the son of Captain Proton.

No.

I got it.

How could that be-be-be?

It's working.

What the hell is wrong
with you, Chaotica?

Alert.
Bio-neural systems shutting down.

Wh-Wh-Wh-What?

Saints preserve us.

I am full of love.

Ooh, I'll cut off your head!

Oh, we did it. We broke Voyager.

What did you do
to my beautiful ship?

I used the Neelix cheese.

It gummed up the neural network
just the way it likes.

Let's get
this bad boy locked up.

We should still have time
to clean before we get to Earth.

Well done.

Now I have to add another
exhibit to the Voyagerstory.

Captain's log, supplemental.

After an embarrassing day

of being merged
on a subcellular level

with my senior staff,

we are putting
the awkwardness behind us

with a promotion ceremony.

Today's, uh...

frankly bizarre series
of Voyager themed obstacles

only prove that you are all
creative, accomplished officers.

Commander, please announce our
new lieutenant junior grades.

Ensign Brad Boimler.

Quick thinking today,
Mr. Boimler.

Thank you, sir.

Provisional Ensign T'Lyn.

Unexpected, but appreciated.

- Ensign D'Vana Tendi.
- Oh, my gosh! What? No way!

Thank you, sir.
Guys, I got a pip!

All right, that's what
I'm talking about.

My main objective here
is to prove to the High Council

that I should be reinstated
to the Vulcan fleet.

But, after today,

I have grown to respect
your skills as a scientist.

I'm so excited
we got promoted together.

Now we really can be
best science friends.

That is not the lesson
to take from this moment.

Damn, looks like half of Beta
shift will be ensigns no more.

Ooh, let's hit the bar
and celebrate.

And, finally,
Ensign Beckett Mariner.

Wait, wh-what?

Sir, I...
No, this has to be a mistake.

Congratulations, Lieutenant.

Yo, yo.

Sir, this is wrong.

I don't want to get promoted.

I know you don't.

Okay, then stop sliding it
back to me and throw it out.

Did you know Voyager's
full of cameras?

Came in handy when putting
together the old mission log.

I saw you help Boimler
be the best he could be.

So what? Boimler loves
being encouraged.

It's, like, his favorite thing.

I went back and dug
through your record.

You've had a lot of
small-minded commanders

who promoted then demoted you.

But now,
you're with Jack Ransom.

I'm twice as smart
as any of those other guys,

and I know you just need someone
to believe in you.

Consider yourself lucky

that you have an amazing
commanding officer.

Sir, I am refusing
this promotion.

- You can't do this to me.
- No, not gonna hear it.

- You're dismissed, Lieutenant.
- No, this isn't over.

I'm not leaving.

For real.
I-I'm staying right here

- until you listen to reason.
- You do you.

Feel the burn.

- Mm.
- Yeah, I...

I couldn't even talk him
out of it. He's such an idiot.

What are you so bummed about?

Now we get to be
lieutenant JGs together.

All of us
except Rutherford.

I mean, I did break Voyager.

Engineers can't get promoted
for breaking stuff.

We always fix things.

Shouldn't you be drunk
and chanting

with a fist in the air
right now?

Come on, no more bunks,
no more holodeck duty!

We did it!

I know.
I just, I-I can't believe

we're not lower decks anymore.

We're lieutenant junior grades,

the least important
mid-level officers.

We do all the grunt work
with none of the perks.

We're still lower decks.

Yeah, maybe you're right,
and-and, hey,

maybe from now on, our lives
will be a lot easier.

- All right.
- Lower decks!

Lower decks! Lower decks!

- Lower decks!
- Come on, T'Lyn.

Lower decks! Lower decks!

This is going to be great!

New jobs and no mysterious
threats to get in our way.

No mysterious threats!

Cease that nervous honing
and let me sleep.

I am not nervous. I am restless.

Eager to ram my blade
through my enemies.

That's not a blade.
It's a spear.

A coward's w*apon used
to poke a foe at a distance.

It has no honor.

Nobody calls me a coward
and lives to tell the tale.

Are you free for lunch today?

They are serving eyes
or hearts or something.

I cannot make it.

The captain has ordered me
to sit with Commander Vekras

and transcribe his tedious
battle tales.

It is a waste of time.

Ma'ah lucked his way
into that captain's chair.

He forgets who
his true allies are.

He won't be captain much longer.

We are in battle. Who was wrong
to sharpen their spear now?

I read one life sign
on board, Captain.

Unknown vessel, you have drifted
into Klingon space.

Identify yourself.

No response.
Should we fire on them?

We gain no honor in destroying
an incapacitated ship.

Mark their location and resume
our course to Qo'noS.

Sir, it's moving.

They're charging weapons.

Destroy those qoHpu'.

I said fire.

I'm trying,
but weapons are down.

- What?
- All systems are losing power.

That's impossible.