02x04 - Dead Stop

[bunniefuu]

Captain's Starlog, supplemental.

It's been almost four days

since the incident
in the Romulan minefield.

Repair teams have been working
around the clock.

Nerves are definitely frayed.

It's incredible we're
still in one piece.

If that mine had hit
another meter to the left...

We can't polarize
the port bow plating

until those breaches are sealed.

What's your guess?

Assuming we can find
some tritanium alloy...

three or four months.

And with this kind of damage,

the best I can give you is...

warp 2, maybe 2.1.

In other words, we're...

a decade away
from Jupiter Station.

What about
the transceiver array?

The subspace antenna's damaged.

All we've got is short-range.

We've answered

enough calls for help
over the past year.

It's time someone
returned the favor.

You serious?

Archer to Ensign Sato.

Go ahead, sir.

I want you to get started
on a... general distress call.

Assistance required...
minor repairs.

Don't go into too much detail.

Understood, sir.

Archer out.

♪ It's been a long road ♪

♪ Getting from there to here ♪

♪ It's been a long time ♪

♪ But my time is finally near ♪

♪ And I will see my dream
come alive at last ♪

♪ I will touch the sky ♪

♪ And they're not gonna
hold me down no more ♪

♪ No, they're not gonna
change my mind ♪

♪ 'Cause I've got faith ♪

♪ Of the heart ♪

♪ I'm going where my heart
will take me ♪

♪ I've got faith to believe ♪

♪ I can do anything ♪

♪ I've got strength
of the soul ♪

♪ No one's gonna bend
or break me ♪

♪ I can reach any star ♪

♪ I've got faith ♪

♪ I've got, I've got, I've got ♪

♪ I've got faith ♪

♪ Faith of the heart. ♪

You're k*lling me!

Push, Lieutenant.

Two more seconds.

And rest.

It can't be ethical
to cause a patient
this much pain.

It's unethical
to harm a patient.

I can inflict as
much pain as I like.

A positive attitude is vital
to the healing process.

The more you complain,

the longer your recovery
is likely to take.

When will I be able
to return to duty?

Another week, possibly two.

Two weeks?!

Attitude, Lieutenant.

The wound might heal faster
if you'd allow me

to apply a few more
Regulan bloodworms.

Oh, you're not putting

any more of those things
inside my leg.

You still haven't
found the last one.

He'll come out on his
own... eventually.

Did you hear that?

I don't believe it.

Trip told me he
fixed that squeak.

Go ahead.

Captain, we're receiving

a response to the distress call.

It's a Tellarite freighter.

Put them through.

This is Captain Archer
of the Starship Enterprise.

Thank you for responding.

How may we be of assistance?

We need help in repairing
some hull damage.

If you can rendezvous with us,
we'd be happy to discuss...

Enterp... schedule
won't permit...

Signal is...

I'm sorry, sir, they're
barely within range.

Can you repeat?

Transmitting coordinate...

repair station at...

Sounded like he said
"repair station"?

We have received a
set of coordinates.

What do you know
about these Tellarites?

They're not the most
agreeable species,

but they're usually trustworthy.

The coordinates are three
and a half days away at warp 2.

I think it's worth a look.

Aye, sir.

This is Captain Archer
of the Starship Enterprise.

We need to make some repairs.

I was told you might
be willing to help us.

We'd be grateful for any
assistance you could offer.

Please respond.

Nothing.

Bio-signs?

None that I can detect.

Maybe it's abandoned.

We might be able to board it...

salvage some of the materials
we need.

Doesn't seem that Enterprise

could fit inside
those docking berths.

What's it look like inside?

I'm detecting
a liquid helium atmosphere.

The temperature's 270 degrees
below zero.

A biomolecular probe.

Sir...

It's reconfiguring
to fit the saucer section.

The liquid helium
is being replaced

by a warmer oxygen-
nitrogen atmosphere.

Still no response to our hails.

It appears an invitation's
been extended.

They need to work a little
on their hospitality.

I don't see that we have
a lot of options.

Take us in.

They've isolated
every hull breach,

every damaged system...

I'll be damned.

We scratched the hull
right there, a year ago.

I bumped it with the
inspection pod, remember?

I thought I told you
to have that repainted.

Well, I was getting
around to it.

Everything's in English.

The ship wasn't the only thing
they probed.

I think that's Malcolm.

That's where his
left leg was injured.

This facility may have
the technology

to repair Mr. Reed, as well.

The analysis of your vessel
is complete.

Select a method of compensation
to begin the repair process.

Who am I speaking with?

Your inquiry was not recognized.

Is there someone here
I can speak with?

Your inquiry was not recognized.

I don't think there's
anyone back there.

Perhaps the station's automated.

Are you saying you can
repair all our systems?

Select a method of compensation
to begin the repair process.

We can give them
either three warp coils,

five deuterium injectors
or 200 liters of warp plasma.

I wouldn't recommend

giving up any hardware
we can't replace.

Plasma?

I think we can spare it.

If we agree to these terms,
how long will the repairs take?

Time to completion:
34.2 Earth hours.

I'm telling you,
the boys at Jupiter Station

would take three months.

It's a fair exchange.

Select a method of compensation
to begin the repair process.

Compensation will be due
when the repairs are completed.

Your vessel will then
disengage immediately.

All personnel are required
to vacate areas

that are undergoing
reconstruction.

Look at this.

It's the repair schedule.

Transmit it to Hoshi
and have her inform the crew.

Enterprise to Captain Archer.

Go ahead.

Some kind of

mechanical arms

are being attached
to the outer hull.

It's all right, Travis.
Stand by.

The recreation facility is now
available to all personnel.

Enjoy your visit.

If this their idea
of a "recreation facility,"

we might want to ask
for our plasma back.

A matter-energy converter.

It could be a transporter.

An awfully small one.

I believe it's a molecular
synthesizer of some kind.

Similar to a protein
resequencer,

but far more advanced.

Water... cold.

I saw a similar device
on a Tarkalean vessel.

It was capable of replicating

almost any inanimate object.

If we had one
of these in Engineering,

we could make all
the spare parts we need.

I wonder what else
is on the menu.

One pan-fried catfish.

Smells like the real thing.

Well?

Not bad.

I doubt there's a catfish
within 130 light-years.

Its genome is stored
in Enterprise's computer,

as is the recipe.

The station evidently
scanned our database.

It would have been nice
to have been asked.

I can only imagine what else
this thing knows about us.

Captain, you've got to try this.

Thanks, but I'll stick
with whatever Chef's serving.

I'll be on the Bridge.

Hmm.

Are you sure this thing
knows what it's doing?

That's the third
time you've asked.

You didn't answer me
the first two times.

It's remarkable.

Your cells are regenerating
at an exponential rate.

Do you see how it's using
a cytokinetic enzyme

to stimulate the cell division.

Lovely.

I could certainly use
a device like this.

Perhaps the Captain
could negotiate

a trade of some sort.

The tissue is completely healed.

Even the scar is gone.

Try standing up.

Any pain?

None.

Come in.

Repairs are currently
underway on C-Deck.

Work on Launch Bay 1

is scheduled to begin
at 2200 hours.

They even fixed the
squeak in the floor.

I was starting to wonder
if we had a gremlin

under the deck plating.

A mythical creature.

British pilots used
to blame them

for problems
they couldn't explain.

Perhaps I should scan for one.

That won't be necessary.

Is Trip happy with
how the repairs are going?

He says they're exceeding
Starfleet specifications.

That's good to hear.

Anything else?

If I may make an observation?

Go ahead.

You seem troubled.

Guess I need to do a better job
at repressing my emotions.

These repairs are one hell
of a bargain

at only 200 liters
of warp plasma, don't you think?

Not every culture is based
on the acquisition of wealth.

The station's builders

could simply have been
interested in helping others.

What happened to them?

They could have at least
left a message.

"Thanks for stopping by."

Perhaps they prefer anonymity.

Don't you find that
a little suspicious?

I know you don't
put a lot of faith

in your feelings, but...

I've learned to trust mine.

Something doesn't smell right.

Honestly, I started
to feel a little sorry

for the Doctor.

There wasn't anything
for him to do,

but stand there and
watch this thing work.

I know how he must have felt.

I saw an entire
transtator assembly

replaced in 15 minutes.

It would have
taken my crew a week.

With this kind of technology,

Starfleet could build ships
that maintain themselves.

They wouldn't need
Chief Engineers.

Or Tactical Officers.

A starship without
a Tactical Officer?

I can't say I see the point.

You'd think a computer
that can do all this

would have to be pretty big.

Our computer's the most
advanced in the fleet

and it's three decks high.

Well, I suppose you're right.

So, where is it?

I don't follow.

I ran a scan of the station
a few hours ago.

These are the docking berths.

We're here.

This is the diagnostic room.

Well, that compartment's
the only place it could be.

And it's barely half
the size of this one.

A machine capable of billions
of calculations every nanosecond

and it can fit inside
the proverbial bread box.

Hmm.

I'd love to get a look at that.

Well, you could always ask.

I tried.

"Your inquiry
was not recognized."

Well, I guess that's that.

Not necessarily.

This cooling duct...
runs all the way

to the center of the station.

I saw an access port
in one of the corridors.

This computer might not
take kindly

to people... snooping around.

I haven't seen any
"no trespassing" signs.

We're explorers.

Where's your spirit
of adventure?

I left it in
a Romulan minefield.

Almost...

Got it.

If the Captain
learns about this,

we'll both be scrubbing
plasma conduits for a month.

Mayweather.

Travis, it's the Captain.

Would you mind coming down
to Launch Bay 1?

I thought that section
was off-limits, sir.

Not anymore.

I could use a hand, Ensign.

Aye, sir.

Are you sure this is
the right direction?

Evening, Subcommander.

Captain?

Hello?

Hello?

Do you know how stupid
that little stunt was?

You could just have easily

been transported out into space.

You're senior officers.

You're supposed to be
setting an example

for the rest of the crew.

It was my idea, sir.

I think Lieutenant Reed
is old enough

to make his own decisions.

You've made it clear to me

that you think
discipline aboard Enterprise

has gotten a little too lax.

I'm beginning to agree with you.

You're both restricted
to quarters

until further notice.

Dismissed.

Yes, sir.
Aye, sir.

Hold on.

Did you notice
anything interesting

when you were in there?

Depends on what you
mean by interesting.

T'Pol to Captain Archer.

Go ahead.

You're needed in
Launch Bay 1 immediately.

What happened?

He's dead, Captain.

The subcutaneous burns
are consistent

with an isolytic shock,

but I can't be certain

until I perform
a full postmortem.

I'll keep you apprised.

It looks like he was trying

to tap into the EPS grid
when this relay overloaded.

Why the hell
would he come down here

during his off hours

and start tampering
with the power systems?

I don't get it.

Travis would have
checked with me

before doing any maintenance.

Did you notify the crew

that this section
was off-limits?

Yes.

Well, apparently somebody
didn't get the message.

What time did he go off duty?

1800 hours.

Malcolm and I saw
him on the station

about a half an hour later.

He was having dinner with Hoshi.

Talk to her.

See if he said anything
about this.

And go over the com logs.

I want to know
if he talked to anyone else.

It might be a good idea to
check his quarters, as well.

Post a security detail

outside every section
that's under repair.

Aye, sir.

A member of my crew is dead.

We don't know what happened.

Your inquiry was not recognized.

My Helmsman...

was k*lled in Launch Bay 1.

We think it happened

while that section
was off-limits.

All personnel are required
to vacate areas

that are undergoing
reconstruction.

We're aware of that.

You must have some...

kind of record of what happened.

All personnel are required
to vacate areas

that are undergoing
reconstruction.

I need to talk to a person.

Someone who can access
your database

and tell me what happened.

Your inquiry was not recognized.

Who built this station?

What species?

Your inquiry was not recognized.

What species?!

Any damage to these facilities
will be charged to your vessel.

Computer, begin recording.

Subject's name:
Ensign Travis Mayweather.

Human male,
weight: 72 kilograms,

age: 26 Earth years.

Far too young
to be on this table.

Cellular decay suggests
that death occurred

at approximately 23:30 hours.

Preliminary cause of death:
ventricular fibrillation

induced by an isolytic shock.

The vascular system
appears to have functioned

as a conduit for the discharge.

The musculature shows
extensive necrosis

along the conductive pathway.

There are subcutaneous burns

over approximately...
12 percent of the body.

The right phalanges and
metacarpus exhibit signs

of multiple thermal fractures.

Computer, pause.

Ensign?

This is not an ideal time.

I wanted to say good-bye.

You may find this disturbing.

I've seen a body before.

15 of them on that alien ship.

It's different when it's someone
you know personally.

I was hoping it was another
one of his practical jokes.

Travis called me down
to Decon a few weeks ago.

He said that he brought

some kind of gelatinous
life-form aboard.

He said it might be sentient.

That the Captain needed me

to figure out
how to communicate with it.

Hmm.
I don't recall that.

There was no life-form.

It was only strawberry gelatin.

I told him I was going
to get him back.

I'm sorry.

It might comfort you to know
he felt very little pain.

An isolytic shock instantly

impairs the, uh...

the nervous...

That's odd.

What?

They're dead.

All of them.

Excuse me, Ensign.

Anything?

No.

It doesn't look like Travis

used the com system last night.

Crewman Hayes says
she passed him

on his way to the Launch Bay,

but they didn't speak.

She said he seemed
to be in quite a hurry.

What's this?

It's a letter...

to his sister.

It was on the monitor
when I came in.

I'm afraid
there isn't much here.

You mentioned something

about canceling breakfast
with him.

That was... last week.

I had to... postpone it.

Have we been able
to locate his parents?

Subcommander T'Pol's
working on it,

but it could take some time.

Cargo ships aren't always
easy to track down.

Archer.

It's Dr. Phlox, Captain.

I need to see you right away.

Did you find something?

As a matter of fact, I did.

This is not Ensign Mayweather.

What?

It's a nearly perfect replica.

I've never seen
a life-form duplicated

in such extraordinary detail
from its epidermis

down to its cellular proteins.

This is remarkable work.

If it's so perfect,
how do you know it's not him?

Do you recall what happened

to Crewman Fisher last month

after our visit to Tessik Prime?

He came down
with Rigelian fever.

I inoculated the entire crew

to prevent an outbreak.

Would you mind
rolling up your sleeve?

The vaccine contained millions

of genetically altered microbes.

Most of them are still
in your bloodstream.

They typically survive for,
oh, at least several weeks.

Every one of the alien microbes
in this body is dead.

Couldn't they have been k*lled
by the isolytic shock?

These microbes thrive
on isolytic energy.

If anything,
they would have multiplied.

I believe that someone
or something

has abducted Ensign Mayweather
and left this facsimile

in his place.

Apparently bulkheads aren't
the only thing

this station can replicate.

It's ironic, in a way.

The station can duplicate
a dead human body

in all its exquisite detail,

yet a living, simple
one-celled organism

is beyond its capability.

I've located Ensign
Mayweather's parents.

We'd better hold off.

Their son may still be alive.

You and Trip managed to get
pretty far inside the station.

How close do you think you got

to the computer core?

We were within 20 meters

when we tripped the sensors.

Think you could find a
way to get past them?

I believe so.

Our repairs
will be complete in 19 minutes.

The station's expecting
us to depart.

Bridge to Engineering.

Tucker here.

Trip, have you prepared
our payment?

The canisters
are almost ready, sir.

Don't be in such a hurry.

200 liters of warp plasma,
as promised.

Please place your compensation
on the transport platform.

Hold on. Hold on.

There's a couple of problems
we need to discuss first.

I'm not real happy

with the quality
of some of your work.

You listening to me?

Please place your compensation
on the transport platform.

I've looked
at the bolt couplings

you used to attach
the new hull plating.

I'm afraid they're not up
to Starfleet specs.

And the subspace amplifier
you repaired?

We're picking up distortion

on all the high-band
frequencies.

Please place your compensation
on the transport platform.

We're not paying
until we sort this out.

What guarantee do I have
that these duranium pins

won't fly out the instant
we jump to warp?

Your inquiry was not recognized.

On my world,
we have an expression:

"The customer's always right."

Maybe you should make that
part of your program.

I want to know how someone files
a grievance around here.

It's there...

about five meters.

Sounds like, uh, you've got

more important things
to deal with.

Incursion detected

in primary data core.

Vacate this section,

or your vessel
will be compromised.

I'm detecting one
human bio-sign.

Are they alive?

Their vital organs appear
to be functioning...

but they've suffered
severe neurological damage.

Incursion detected
in primary data core.

Vacate this section,
or your vessel

will be compromised.

Their synaptic pathways

have been reconfigured,

integrated into
the computer core.

Incursion detected
in primary data core.

Vacate this section,

or your vessel
will be compromised.

Captain.

Incursion detected
in primary data core.

Vacate this section,

or your vessel
will be compromised.

Three of the station's arms

have just clamped on
to the hull.

Polarize the hull plating.

There's no effect.
Stand by weapons.

They're going off-line.

The station's tapped into
the ship's umbilical ports.

It's overriding
our command functions.

Try to lock out
the main computer.

I can't. Our access codes
have been scrambled.

Sir?
It's okay, Travis.

We're taking you home.

Right here.

Archer to the Bridge.
The com's down.

Travis?
On his way to Sick Bay.
What's our status?

It's been better.

The station's got us
by the thrusters.

Impulse engines?

Off-line.

We're losing main power.

Life support's failing.

Malcolm, I think it's time
we deliver our payment.

It did some heavy damage, sir.

Power levels are dropping.

But the plasma hasn't ignited
the O-2 conduits yet.

It needs to reach
3,000 degrees, Malcolm.

Be patient.

Yes, sir.

I'm reading secondary explosions
throughout the station.

Command functions
are coming back on line.

Engines?

Impulse and thrusters.

One of those arms is still
locked onto the hull.

If we don't disengage soon,
we'll be incinerated.

Full thrusters.
It's no good.

And if I fired up
the impulse engines,

we'd probably tear off
half the saucer section.

Can you launch a torpedo?

At this range, sir,
I wouldn't recommend it.

I agree, but I don't think
we have much choice.

One more, Lieutenant!

Get us out of here.

You look pretty good
for a dead guy.

How you feeling?

Much better, sir.
Thank you.

The doctor told me
what happened.

I'm not sure I understand.

We're still trying to
figure that out for ourselves.

I... may be able to shed
some light on the subject.

It seems to be
some kind of interface

designed to convert neural
impulses into binary code.

Essentially, the station
was using your brain

to enhance its processing power.

Why would it do that?

The cerebral cortex

is the most sophisticated
computer known to exist.

What about
all those other people?

According to T'Pol's scans,

most of them had been there
for years.

The damage to their brains
was irreversible.

Fortunately, you were removed

before any permanent injury
occurred.

When can I have
my Helmsman back?

I'd like to observe him
for another 24 hours

if you don't mind.

Captain's Mess,
Friday morning, 0800.

Don't be late.

Sounds good, sir.