02x09 - Singularity

[bunniefuu]

- 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 won't survive.

♪ 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. ♪

I'm continuing my analysis

of the condition
that's stricken the crew.

But without Dr. 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.

You're sure it's a black hole?

A Class-4.

According to the
Vulcan starcharts,

your people have surveyed more
than 2,000 of these things.

That's correct.

But none of them were part
of a trinary star system.

How close can we get?

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 million kilometers.

Close enough to get
some nice pictures.

How long would it take to
reach the system at impulse?

Two days.

Set a course.

Trip.

If you've got some free time,

I'd love it if you'd
take a look at my chair.

Sir?

The Captain's chair.

What about it?

You may have noticed

that I don't sit
in it very much.

Is there a problem?

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.

I always assumed it was
the best seat in the house.

Take a look at it for me?

I was going to purge
the impulse manifolds.

The chair first,
if you don't mind.

Aye, aye, sir.

Mm.

Come in.

Good morning.

Morning.

Am I interrupting?

No, no, just thinking
about something.

Today's duty roster.

Thanks.

Lieutenant Reed has
a new security protocol

he'd like to discuss with you.

I'll drop by the Armory.

Anything else?

Chef didn't report for duty
this morning; he's ill.

Is it serious?

Dr. 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.

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?

I'd be happy to.

If I can ever get it finished.

I've been putting it off
for weeks.

The next two days should provide
you with ample opportunity.

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.

Perhaps by focusing
on one incident,

a single event that exemplifies
your relationship

with your father,

you'll be able
to condense your thoughts.

Logical approach.

Maybe... you'd like
to write it for me?

I'm hardly qualified.

Chef was planning to make
fried chicken tonight

with scalloped potatoes

and some of the Minaran spinach
we picked up on Risa.

The orange spinach?

He's convinced there's
a way to make it edible.

Why don't we let him tackle that
when he gets back?

I have something else in mind.

It's one of my grandmother's
specialties.

The recipe's been passed
down for generations.

I'll need a translation

before I can program
the protein resequencer.

Oh, no. You can resequence

all the chicken
and potatoes you want,

but I am making this
from scratch.

Ensign.

Is there something
I can do for you?

I've got a little headache,
nothing serious.

Why don't you let
me have a look?

I was hoping you could
just give me something.

I'm right in the middle

of upgrading
the navigation sensors.

It would be irresponsible
to dispense medication

without examining you first.

Hmm? Please.

Any other symptoms?

Dizziness...
blurred vision?

No.

How long have you had it?

A couple of days, on and off.

Well, I've been meaning

to have you drop by
Sick Bay in any case.

Hmm? To see if you've
had any problems

since I removed
the neural implants

you received
at the repair station.

You think it could have
something to do with that?

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...

and then all manner of
nasty things begin to happen.

Commander.

Commander.

Push it forward.

That's good.
Hold it there.

Commander!

Perhaps you could
finish that later.

This may not be as glamorous
as a black hole,

but the Captain
gave me an order.

He also requested detailed
sensor readings

of this trinary system.

I thought Vulcans had all this
mental focus and discipline.

We also have sensitive hearing.

Huh.

I'll be in my quarters.

We'll let you know
when we're done.

Keep those target discriminators
aligned.

We don't want a torpedo

mistaking one of our own
nacelles for an enemy vessel.

You asked to see me, Malcolm?

I would have come to you,
Captain.

It's no problem.

What's on your mind?

I've been reviewing our
encounters with hostile species.

The crew's response
has been admirable,

but I feel
we can do better, sir.

And you have a proposal?

I've been thinking about
a shipwide 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 polarized,
weapons brought on line,

critical systems secured.

I appreciate your
concern, Malcolm,

but this isn't a warship.

Well, that's obvious, sir.

During our last run-in
with the Suliban,

we were... unprepared
for their boarding parties.

When the Mazarites att*cked,

they disabled our aft sensors
with their first sh*t.

The list goes on.

I can see that.

Run this by the senior officers.

Get some feedback,
and we'll talk again.

Yes, sir.

And, Malcolm?

Don't call it "battle stations."

Think of something
less... aggressive.

How is it?

Just great.

Condition Red?

Huh?

What about "Condition Red"
for the new security protocol?

Why don't you just call it
"Security Protocol"?

Well, that's not very dynamic.

Do you think
a cup holder's too much?

I beg your pardon?

For the Captain's chair.

He just wanted
the seat adjusted,

but I figured...
as long as I'm working on it.

Just what the Captain needs
in a crisis...

a place to rest his beverage.

I'm also upgrading
the status displays.

He'll be able to access
tactical data from the armrest.

If you really want
to improve tactical readiness,

why don't you help me
with this protocol?

I'm a little busy right now,
Malcolm.

It's a chair!

It's the Captain's chair.

It's just as important
as your... Reed Alert.

"Reed Alert"?

That's not bad.

Enjoying your lunch?

Yeah.

Thanks.

It was, uh, terrific.

It's called "oden."

Every Japanese family

has their own way
of preparing it.

Well... it seems
to be a big hit.

Congratulations.

Thank you.

Lieutenant, you
barely touched yours.

Uh, it was lovely.

I'll get you a fresh bowl.

That's not necessary.

It's no problem.

Please.

Not hungry.

Are you sure there's
nothing wrong with it?

Well... it was a bit salty.

Salty?

Oh, it tastes fine.

Well, it just must be me, then.

Everybody else seems
to be enjoying it.

How much longer is
this going to take?

That depends.
On what?

Hold still, Ensign.

I have to get
back to the Bridge.

Well, I'm afraid you won't be
returning to duty today.

The Captain needs
those upgrades, Doctor.

When it comes
to medical matters,

my authority overrides
the Captain's.

I'm keeping you overnight
for observation.

But your scans
didn't show anything!

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.

When I was
about eight years old,

my father took me on a tour

of the Warp 5 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 realize
the significance of those...

names or the...

the significance of...
my father's work.

Computer, pause.

I'll feed you in a minute.

Computer, resume recording.

In a way,

creating a stable... warp field
mirrored the...

the f-flux of emotions
my... father felt when he...

embarked on...

Computer, pause.

Delete the last paragraph.

Hell, delete the whole thing.

Quiet.

Come in.

Here's your sensor interface.

What's the emergency?

This trinary system

is emitting some
unusual radiation.

I'm trying to identify it.

You dragged me up here
so you could identify radiation?

Correct.

You said it was urgent.

I said it was important.

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.

I prefer to work here.

I'll need your assistance
with this.

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.

Are you feeling all right,
Commander?

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 the ass."

Doctor?
Shh!

When are you
going to...?
Wait!

I have just enough time
to shower and get changed.

I haven't discharged
you, Ensign.

I haven't slept all night,

and I'm supposed to go
on duty in 15 minutes.

I need to perform a
cerebral micro-section.

A what?

Lie down.

No more tests.

I have to get to the Bridge.

I'm giving you an order.

If I don't finish
those upgrades,

I could get a reprimand.

It'll be in my permanent record.

You have far more to worry about

than a blemish on your record.

Do you see there?

Hmm?!

Your cortical scan shows
elevated levels of serotonin

and several other
neurotransmitters.

What does that mean?

I'll let you know

once I've completed
the micro-section.

Can't it wait
until after my shift?

Absolutely not.

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 court-martialed.

And what if you're carrying
a protocystian spore... hmm?

And you infect the
rest of the crew?

How will that
reflect on you, hmm?

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.

Not today!

Not during my shift!

Unless you're ready
to tie me to a bio-bed,

I'm going back to my helm.

At least let me give
you an analgesic...

for the headache, hmm?

Well, that's all I wanted
in the first place.

If it gets any worse

or you suffer any
other symptoms...

return here immediately.

What did you...?

I've been working
on the new security protocol.

Obviously, the reactor
must be secured immediately

during a Tactical Alert.

"Tactical Alert"?

I considered your suggestion...
"Reed Alert"...

But, well, it seemed
a bit narcissistic.

Hand me that hyperspanner,
would you?

I've also been working
on a new alert signal.

Tell me what you think.

Or this one?!

Well, which do you prefer?

For what?

A Tactical Alert.

They both sound like
a bag full of cats.

Well, they were designed
to get your attention.

I'll look this over
and get back to you.

I also need your help

on an emergency
shutdown procedure

for the EPS grid.

I said... I'll get back to you.

Fine. Let's hope we don't suffer
a catastrophic reactor breach

in the meantime.

Malcolm...

one of your boys borrowed
my laser micrometer.

If you're heading to the Armory,

could you get it back for me?

Ensign... if we don't
serve something soon,

we're going to have
a riot on our hands.

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.

There are 25 people...

Carrots!

With all due respect,

you've been cooking
the same meal

over and over again.

I believe I'm in charge
of the galley.

I understand that...
You're relieved.

Ma'am...

Get out!

Lieutenant...

I need your assis...

Clearance code?

I beg your pardon?

What is your clearance code?

The Armory is a restricted area.

Even to the First Officer?

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.

Part of your new
security protocol?

It was sent to your console

as a voice-encrypted
command packet.

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 behavior?

Why do you want to access

the sensor array...
from your quarters?

I was asked to run
detailed scans

of the trinary star system.

I wasn't informed.

It isn't a tactical issue.

Lieutenant...

why are you armed?

From now on, security personnel

are to wear side arms
in all restricted areas.

Have you cleared this
with the Captain?

It's in my proposal.

Has he approved your proposal?

I've been trying to get
him to pay closer attention

to security since
we left Spacedock,

but he's more interested in
fraternizing 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 anything else?

No.

It wasn't long before I realized

the odd behavior 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 not.

What happened to my chair?

Did you know that this
chair is the exact same model

used on Neptune-Class
survey ships?

Is that why
you called me down here?

Enterprise is the first
warp 5 vessel in human history...

The pride of the fleet...
And you're sitting in a chair

they've been using
on warp 2 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.

Isn't that used
for aligning phase coils?

You won't feel a thing.

Long as I'm down here,
maybe I can get your opinion.

Don't move.

"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?"

Turn around.

"If so, then no man
since Zefram Cochrane, himself,

"has made
a more lasting contribution

"to the future of humankind

than my father,
Dr. Henry Archer."

All done.

What do you think?

Sounds good.

Let me read you the rest.

I really need
to get to work on this.

It's just a few more pages.

How many more?

Nineteen.

Nineteen?!

Are you writing the preface
or the book?

I've got a lot to say.

No kidding.

What's that supposed to mean?

Well, if I may, sir...

it's a little longwinded.

You're lucky you're
a decent engineer,

because you obviously don't
know anything about writing.

I'm not the only one.

I have 83 people to feed,
not just senior officers.

All I requested was
a bowl of plomeek broth.

I don't have time
for special orders.

Anyway, you'll like this better.

Where's lunch?

It'll be ready
in one minute, sir.

I don't have a minute.

If you're so hungry,
fix yourself a sandwich.

Captain?

May I speak with you?

That is a very complex recipe.

I will not serve it
till it's just right.

My family's reputation
is at stake!

This is a Tactical Alert.

All hands report
to your stations.

I repeat,
this is a Tactical Alert.

Report!

The crew's response
was unacceptable.

38 percent of them failed
to report to their stations.

Critical systems
haven't been secured.

I haven't even heard
from Engineering.

Shut off that damn noise!

Shut it off!

I don't recall authorizing
a tactical drill.

Well, it wouldn't
be much of a drill

if everybody knew about it, sir.

One minute and 15 seconds.

What?

It took you one minute

and 15 seconds
to reach your post.

I'd expect more
of our commanding officer

given that the crew just
might follow his example.

Captain?

One minute and 49 seconds.

You might want to see this, sir.

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.

You ignored a Tactical
Alert for this?

I want to run some colors
by you for the headrest.

This is all a big joke to you.

Give it a rest.

This isn't a bloody
pleasure cruise.

Without proper discipline

on this ship, this
mission is doomed.

Why don't you go play
soldier somewhere else?

If this were
a m*llitary situation,

you'd be taken out and sh*t.

Hey, hey, hey, hey...

I don't care what color
the headrest is

or whether it can
serve me iced tea.

I just want a place to sit
when I'm on duty.

And if I hear that alarm
one more time,

I may have you
taken out and sh*t.

Unless there's
a real emergency...

Like a reactor breach...

I don't want to be disturbed.

Go away.

Do I have to start
locking my door?

You said to interrupt you
if there was an emergency.

I believe there is.

Is that right?

The crew's behavior
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 Dr. Phlox
examine the crew.

I suggest he begin with you.

I'm busy.

Captain...?

Dismissed.

Your crew is in danger.

I gave you an order.

Captain...?

I suggest you follow it...

or I'll have you confined
to your quarters, until...

until a Vulcan ship
can come and get you.

Oh, you're just in
time, Subcommander.

There's a surgical gown

in the compartment
by the microscope.

This is a rare opportunity
to explore the human brain.

Was he injured?

Oh, 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 12 millimeters
of his parietal lobe.

A subcellular analysis
of the tissue should shed

some light on the mystery.

Doctor, you may want
to delay the procedure.

We have a larger problem.

The entire crew is ill.

They'll have to wait.

You've been affected, as well.

Please remove your hand.

I won't ask you again.

I'll let you know
when I've completed the surgery.

The crew's bio-signs
were growing erratic.

I began to doubt any of them

would survive
more than a few hours.

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...

Computer, pause.

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.

Captain?

Captain Archer!

You're needed on the Bridge.

I told you not to disturb me.

We have very little time.

What are you doing?

Your crew may be dying.

What?

Do you remember
that trinary star system?

The one with the black hole?

It's emitting a dangerous form
of radiation.

It's affecting
your prefrontal cortex.

I believe that's why
you and the crew

have been exhibiting
obsessive behavior.

Some of the crew's bio-signs
are already unstable.

If you're exposed
to the radiation much longer,

you won't survive.

Do you understand
what I'm telling you?

Turn it off.

Do you understand?

Yes... radiation.

Tell...

Phlox, if the...
the crew's sick...

tell Phlox...

He's been affected as well.

But not you?

Vulcan physiology
seems to be immune.

Bring us about.

Turn the ship around.

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 17 minutes.

Lousy coffee.

But we'll have to pass

within two million kilometers
of the black hole.

There's considerable debris
and gravitational shear.

Someone needs
to pilot Enterprise

while I determine
the course corrections.

Travis?

He's been sedated.

I'm in no condition...

to... fly... a starship.

We have no other choice.

More gravitational shear.

We're too far to port.

But you said bearing 2.4.

12.4.

My mistake.

12... 4.

How much longer
is this going to take?

Six minutes.

I'm good for that.

Another shear front.

You need to rotate our
longitudinal axis

by 12 degrees and bring
our flight vector

to 014 mark 27.

Hold on, hold on.

Zero-what?

014 mark...

Mark 27.

Just minor debris.

The hull plating is holding.

Our lateral vector

is drifting.

Captain!

Hang on a second.

I feel like I'm in...
flight school again.

You're doing well.

New heading.

006 mark 4.

Six...

Captain!

I see it.

We need phase cannons.

They take too long to charge.

All weapons are on line.

It must be part
of the new security protocol.

Fire!

Could you shut that off?

How much longer?

Less than ten seconds.

Five more seconds.

Any more surprises?

Nothing on sensors.

Did we get some nice pictures
of the black hole?

How are you feeling?

A little tired,

but the headache's gone.

What'd you do?

Very little...
fortunately.

You're, uh... free to go.

Captain.

How's the crew?

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,

uh, before I got any further

with Mr. Mayweather's
procedure.

I wasn't certain it would
work on a Denobulan.

It worked quite effectively,
I can assure you.

What procedure
on Mr. Mayweather?

The radiation affected my
nervous system rather severely.

I'll be with you in a moment.

I'll provide you
with a full report

when I've finished
treating the crew.

You wanted to see me, Captain?

I did.

When T'Pol and I were
navigating the debris field,

your Tactical Alert went off.

I heard, sir.

I've already deactivated
the new protocols.

You shouldn't have.

They brought the weapons on line
right when we needed them.

If you have no objection,

I'd like to make it
standard procedure.

No objection, sir.

You still need to
work on that alarm.

I'll get right on it.

Doesn't look any
different to me.

Give it a try.

Hmm...

It feels better.

What did you do?

Cross your legs.

What did you do?

Seems totally different.

I lowered it...

by one centimeter.

That's all?

Didn't have time to install
the new status displays

or the inertial micro-dampers,

but, uh... if you give me
a couple of days...

I think this will be fine,
Commander. Thanks.

How about I just attach
the cup-holder?

This'll be fine.

How does this sound?