Game!
Why don't we make it interesting this time?
Let's add some table stakes.
What kind of stakes?
I don't know.
Mmm...
a couple of replicator rations, maybe?
Don't do it, Harry.
He's hustling you.
Wait a minute.
Are you saying he deliberately Iet me win?
That would be dishonest, Harry.
I won that game—
and I'II beat you again.
How many rations are you willing to bet on that?
Come on, Harry.
Go for it.
A week's worth.
Harry, Harry, Harry.
Never, ever play with anyone—
not even your best friend—
if he says, "Let's make it interesting."
Now, you want a Iittle action?
I'II give you a Iittle action.
How about an honest game of chance?
Never play with anyone—
even your best friend— if he offers you
"an honest game of chance," Harry.
One replicator ration is all it takes to play
and the only thing you have to do to win
is pick a number.
Just predict
what the radiogenic particle count will be
at 1200 hours tomorrow,
and if you hit, the pot is yours...
minus a small handling fee for the bank, of course.
I'II take a piece of that.
Harry, get a padd.
Take down these names and numbers.
I'm in, too.
Lewis— 2100.
I'II back that bet up.
Rogers...
Ensign Hogan, still no Iuck with the warp drive?
No, Lieutenant.
The manifold just won't fire up.
We've finally narrowed it down
to some kind of a problem in EPS Conduit 141.
Was there any indication yesterday
that there was something wrong?
Suder was monitoring the EPS flow in the CCF.
He says everything was fine.
Well, I guess we'II just have to get in there
and track it down.
Happy Kal Rekk, Mr. Vulcan.
The holiday of Kal Rekk is not for two weeks.
But it's the Kal Rekk season.
There is no Kal Rekk season.
Kal Rekk is a day of atonement, solitude and silence.
Atonement.
Solitude.
AII your Vulcan holidays are the same.
I've been doing some research. I know.
Why would you need to do research
on Vulcan holidays?
It's part of my job as morale officer.
Morale is irrelevant to a Vulcan.
Oh, please!
There's no one on this ship
requires my services more than you do.
I will not rest until I see you smile.
Then you will not rest.
I don't suppose you've ever heard
of the Vulcan Rumarie?
The Rumarie is an ancient pagan festival.
Full of barely clothed Vulcan men and women,
covered in slippery Rillan grease, chasing one another.
That has not been observed for a millennium.
Well, it's time to bring it back.
Lieutenant Tuvok, report to Engineering immediately.
Acknowledged.
I've been thinking of a Rumarie theme
for the Mess Hall next week—
Iots of high-fat, greasy foods,
and if people want to take off their clothes
and chase one another...
well, it certainly wouldn't hurt morale around here.
Is there a problem, Lieutenant?
98 percent of his body suffered third-degree plasma burns.
If the circuit hadn't failed, he would have been vaporized.
It appeared that Mr. Darwin had entered the conduit
to repair a faulty circuit when the accident occurred.
A perfectly good theory.
Unfortunately, it's wrong.
This contusion is the result
of a hard blow to the back of the skull.
Perhaps he fell and hit his head in the conduit.
The coup-contrecoup pattern of breakage
should tell us whether the blow
is a result of a moving head hitting a stationary object
or a moving object hitting a stationary head.
In this case, the pattern clearly indicates the Iatter.
I'm sorry to report Crewman Darwin was murdered.
At first glance, there is no obvious motive.
Crewman Darwin didn't have any known enemies on board.
I've been Iooking over his Starfleet record.
His training instructor recommended him
as an officer's candidate.
He turned it down to come with us.
He has three sisters back home.
Sorry I'm Iate.
These are the duty Iogs from Iast night.
Lon Suder was the only one in Engineering
when Frank Darwin came on duty.
Something wrong?
No, not really.
I've just never been comfortable with Suder.
That's all.
It's not Iike he ever did anything wrong,
it's just...
As a Maquis, he did what he had to do a Iittle too well.
As in?
As in killing Cardassians.
I don't recall observing anything unusual
about Mr. Suder's behavior while I was on your ship.
You weren't with him in battle.
Around us, he was the quietest
most unassuming guy you'II ever meet.
Typical Betazoid.
Kept to himself.
I never knew much about him.
In the Maquis, we didn't ask for resumes.
We needed all the help we could get.
A Iot us were doing what we were doing
to protect our families,
but Suder had his own reasons.
I wish I could tell you what they were.
In combat, there was something in his eyes.
Maybe he had something personal against Cardassians.
Sometimes I had to pull him back—
stop him from going too far.
And once or twice when I did,
he Iooked at me with those cold eyes
and I just knew,
he was this far away from killing me.
I find it curious that none of this was included
in your initial crew evaluation, Commander.
I don't put down hunches or bad feelings
in my crew evaluations, Lieutenant.
A Vulcan should appreciate that.
Considering the fact
that your Maquis crew included malcontents,
outlaws and mercenaries,
I believe it would have been appropriate.
I wasn't going to make it harder for any of them here.
Suder did his job when he was serving with me
and he's done his job since he's been on this ship.
It seems clear where your investigation
should begin, Lieutenant.
You wish to see me, Mr. Tuvok?
Sit down.
You were alone in Engineering
when Crewman Darwin reported for duty Iast night.
Yes, sir.
Did you speak to him?
No, we just sort of Iooked at each other
and he did whatever he had to do
and I did what I had to do.
And what was that?
I was, um, running a fuel-consumption analysis
for Lieutenant Torres.
She can tell you.
Are you accusing me of killing him?
I have accused no one at this time.
Did you kill Crewman Darwin?
No.
No, I barely knew him.
You know, just because I'm a Maquis
doesn't make me a killer.
I'II be speaking to everyone in Engineering—
perhaps everyone on this ship—
not just former members of the Maquis.
We all know how you feel about the Maquis.
I assure you, I have no feelings about the Maquis.
No, you just spied on us
and were going to turn us all over to Starfleet.
As hard as it may be for you to understand,
that did not require any feelings on my part.
The Doctor places the time of death at 2214.
Do you remember what you were doing then?
I was still running the fuel analysis.
I worked on it until I went off duty.
Would you be surprised to know
that your console was Iogged off at 2209?
That's not possible.
Do you have a criminal record, Mr. Suder?
Now, that would be
sort of difficult to check on, wouldn't it?
Why would you have any reason to Iie?
I don't.
Do you have a criminal record?
No.
How would you describe
your relationship with Crewman Darwin?
I had no relationship.
No disagreements?
No.
No fights?
No.
No reason to kill him?
No.
You're dismissed, Crewman.
I may have more questions for you Iater.
Med Lab to Lieutenant Tuvok.
Go ahead, Doctor.
I think I've found something that will help you.
Do you see the DNA strands on the Iower border?
Yes.
They were retrieved from inside the head wound
by nanites that I designed
to recognize unusual DNA patterns.
This DNA was isolated
because it didn't belong to the victim.
Have you matched it to a member of the crew?
Are you certain?
DNA doesn't know how to Iie, Lieutenant.
I must advise you that under Starfleet Directive 101,
you do not have to answer any questions.
No.
No, there's no point in denying it anymore.
Uh...
I used a two-kilo coil spanner.
He was sitting at the impulse system control panel.
Didn't even Iook up when I moved in behind him
and I swung the spanner as hard as I could.
Crewman, I suggest you speak to counsel.
There was practically no blood.
I was surprised at that.
I figured that the EPS conduit
was the easiest way to dispose of the body,
but... I must have damaged one of the circuits
when I put him inside.
Oh.
I hid the spanner behind a com Iine access panel on Deck 7.
Why did you kill him, Mr. Suder?
No reason.
That is not a satisfactory answer.
You must have had some motive.
I didn't Iike the way he Iooked at me.
No doubt about it.
This is the murder weapon.
Mr. Suder is apparently telling the truth.
You don't seem satisfied, Lieutenant.
No.
You have a confession and the murder weapon.
And no established motive.
Does it matter?
A crime must have a Iogical purpose.
Ah, yes, I see— how to close the case
without understanding the Iogic of the crime.
For a Vulcan that would be a dilemma, wouldn't it?
Doctor, is it possible that Mr. Suder is psychotic?
I doubt it.
Kes, call up his genetic profile.
The neuro-genetic markers are normal.
There's no tendency toward bipolar disorder.
So he's not insane, per se.
What do the elevated norepinephrine Ievels suggest?
Aggressive, even violent tendencies.
Why didn't you report this
immediately after your examination, Doctor?
These readings are not significantly different
from those of the other Maquis crewmen.
Obviously, it takes a certain personality type
to be attracted to the Iife of an outlaw.
Don't you believe his confession, Tuvok?
In fact, I do.
Nevertheless, my job is not finished
until I determine a motive.
And what if there was no motive?
One may not recognize the motivation,
but there is always motivation.
I think you are trapped
in your own Vulcan Iogic, Lieutenant.
AII of us have violent instincts.
We have evolved from predators.
Well, not me, of course.
I've just been programmed by you predators.
The question is, in a civilized world,
can we suppress those instincts?
Most of the time, we can.
Vulcans certainly can.
You've got your violent feelings
buried underneath centuries of control,
but the rest of the humanoid races
aren't always so skilled at self-discipline.
Crewman Suder may have violent impulses
that he just can't control.
Do you believe that a Iook by Mr. Darwin
could provoke such a violent reaction?
It has been known to happen.
I do not accept that explanation.
I already told you why I killed him, Lieutenant.
You didn't Iike the way he Iooked at you.
Right.
Just how did he Iook at you?
Like a Iot of people in Starfleet do.
So this murder could in fact be explained
as an outburst of rage against Starfleet.
Look, if that's how you want to Iook at this...
I want the truth.
I don't Iike Starfleet.
I won't deny that.
But...
Yes?
I have killed people who weren't in Starfleet
for the same reason—
I did not Iike the way they Iooked at me.
I've thought about killing you, Lieutenant.
In my case, you have a motive— my previous mission as a spy,
my role as your accuser— but to my knowledge,
Crewman Darwin had done nothing to you.
That's true.
Then why choose him as a victim?
I don't know.
Do you feel remorse?
I don't seem to feel anything at all.
Most Betazoids can sense other people's emotions...
I can't even sense my own.
So what's going to happen to me now?
I'II have to discuss that with the Captain.
I know what I'd do if I were her.
Guess I'm Iucky.
The Federation doesn't execute people.
It is important that I understand
why you killed Mr. Darwin.
I wish I could help you, Lieutenant.
You can—
and indirectly, I may be able to help you, as well.
Do you know what a mind-meld is?
It's that...
Vulcan thing where you grab someone's head.
We would be telepathically Iinked—
exchanging our thoughts—
in essence, becoming one mind.
One mind? You and me?
I wouldn't recommend that, Lieutenant.
It is not without risk,
but as a Vulcan, I have internal processes
that allow me to control violent instincts.
I believe I will be able to suppress
whatever feelings I draw from you.
And how will I be helped by all this?
It is Iikely that you will gain, at Ieast for a time,
some of my self-discipline
to better control your own violent nature.
What do I have to do?
Release the force field.
My mind to your mind...
your thoughts to my thoughts...
Radiogenic particle density
at the measured coordinates was 1873 per cubic meter.
And the winner of 16 replicator rations
in the Paris radiogenic sweepstakes is...
- Shh. - Shh.
Computer?
There is no winner today.
What? No winner?
Computer, are you positive?
Try your Iuck again.
Tomorrow you could be a winner.
Very funny.
You heard the Iittle Iady.
Try your Iuck again, folks.
The pot grows daily until we have a winner.
Enter your name on the padd and pick a number.
Can I buy you Iunch, Mr. Kim?
I have an extra ration today.
Two, by my count.
Ten percent of the day's action.
The only one who wins every day is you.
I think I'II have some prime rib—
medium rare—
mashed potatoes, creamed spinach.
And maybe some Yorkshire pudding...
and a raktajino with whipped cream on top.
so it ultimately turned out
to be a worthwhile and enlightening experience.
Did you get any of the answers you were after?
It is difficult for me to accept, Captain,
but Mr. Suder was telling the truth as he knew it.
He is a man with an incredibly violent nature,
Iiving in an environment
without any outlet to express it.
I am surprised he was able to maintain his self-control
for as Iong as he did.
I guess in his earlier Iife,
he always found ways to release those impulses—
Iike volunteering for the Maquis.
What do we do with him?
If we were home, he'd be sent to prison.
The brig is the closest thing we have,
but I don't think we can just Ieave him
down in our dungeon for the rest of the trip.
Nor would it be appropriate
to Ieave him in the custody of someone in this Quadrant.
I agree.
Captain...
he is prepared to die for his crime.
An execution?
You're not seriously suggesting that we...
I only mention it
because of the extenuating circumstances
and because he feels it would be an appropriate punishment.
I don't.
I prefer to rehabilitate him, not to end his Iife.
We'II confine him to quarters.
Work with Kim to install maximum-security containment.
Pardon me, Captain,
but allowing him the comfort of his own quarters
doesn't seem an appropriate punishment for murder.
If we don't get home soon,
he'II be in that room a Iong time, Mr. Tuvok.
I think this is the best we can do
under these circumstances.
Crewman Darwin's three sisters might not agree.
How is Suder since the mind-meld?
Quite calm and controlled.
CIearly, the meld initiated
some high cortical activity in his brain.
And you, Tuvok, any adverse effects?
I will admit
that I am more disconcerted than I anticipated.
Why don't you take a day or two off for meditation?
Thank you, but I am already taking steps
to purge these residual feelings.
I don't believe time off will be necessary.
I will, of course, advise you of any further complications.
Tuvok.
Take care of yourself.
I would prefer to be alone.
Okay. AII right.
Far be it from me to bother anyone.
If you really want me to Ieave, I'II Ieave.
I really want you to Ieave.
I don't believe you.
Your voice says "go away,"
but your heart wants me to make you smile.
PIease, go away.
Come on— a Iittle smile.
How is it going to hurt?
I won't tell anyone.
What must I do to convince you to stop?
Come on. Just a Iittle, itty-bitty smile.
Just Iet the mouth curl a Iittle there.
That's...
There's an old Talaxian song
my mother used to sing me as a child.
I'm going to sing it to you every day
from now on. It goes...
Mr. Vulcan, I...
Oh, I can't breath...
Can't... I can't breath...
I'm sorry if I...
Computer, end holodeck program.
Particle density
at the measured coordinates was 1415 per cubic meter.
And the winner is?
Computer?
There won't be any more winners.
Oh, come on, Chakotay.
We were just having a Iittle fun.
The recreational facilities of the Delta Quadrant
being what they are.
I've heard you're responsible for this, Lieutenant.
I didn't think Starfleet would have a problem with it.
With a senior officer running a gambling operation
and skimming profits from each day's proceeds?
Now, why would Starfleet have a problem with that?
Since you all seem to have extra replicator rations,
you won't be needing these.
Today's pot is hereby confiscated.
The Captain's put a Iot of faith in you, Mr. Paris.
She'II be disappointed.
You're on report.
Now, there's a tough job—
filling out reports.
But somebody's got to do it.
Thanks a Iot.
I did not hear you come in, Lieutenant.
How are you feeling?
Centered.
Don't be misled.
Your violent instincts still exist.
You are simply suppressing them as Vulcans do.
I can feel the difference.
It is almost as if I can observe the violence inside me
without Ietting it get too close.
It is quite remarkable
what you Vulcans have Iearned to do.
Understand that this will not be a permanent change,
unless you commit to a strict daily regime
of meditation and mental exercise.
I also believe that a series of holodeck programs
designed to allow your violent tendencies
to be released in a safe environment
may help to purge your aggressive impulses.
Holographic violence does not give the same...
sensation as the real thing.
I've tried it.
Has anyone ever suggested targeted neuro-synaptic therapy?
That didn't work either.
Our Doctor is programmed with the medical knowledge
of every Federation world.
Perhaps he'II know of some treatment you haven't tried.
Since the meld, I feel capable of controlling myself.
Perhaps with your help, I can Iearn to stay this way.
It must be difficult for you.
Difficult?
Knowing violence as I've known it.
I have studied violence for over 100 years.
Studying it
and knowing it are two different things, aren't they?
It's attractive, isn't it?
Attractive?
Violence.
On the contrary.
I find it disturbing.
You're right.
It is disturbing—
never knowing when that impulse may come,
or whether or not you can control it when it does.
You Iive on the edge of every moment
and yet, in its own way, violence is attractive, too.
Maybe because it doesn't require Iogic.
Perhaps that's why it's so Iiberating.
Ironic, isn't it—
that I can share with you, of all people,
what I have hidden from everyone all my Iife.
Can we do it again, Tuvok?
Again?
Meld.
That would not be advisable.
I understand.
Really, I do.
I have thought about it a Iot.
In a way, a mind-meld is almost an act of violence, isn't it?
I don't understand why you would...
Penetration.
Your will dissolving mine.
The joining.
It seems to me that a mind-meld
might be fatal if you Iost control.
Computer, place Ievel-1 security seals on this room.
Acknowledged. Security seals in place.
Delete security clearance: Tuvok-one-four-nine-four-Iambda.
Specified security clearance deleted.
PIease inform the Captain
that I am no Ionger fit for duty.
Acknowledged.
Computer, Iift the security seal
from Lieutenant Tuvok's quarters.
Wait here.
I would advise you not to enter, Captain.
Tuvok.
PIease, do not come any closer.
Talk to me.
I said...
don't come any closer.
We need to get you to Sick Bay.
It would be safer for the crew
if I were to remain in these quarters.
I remind you, I am trained in the martial arts
of many AIpha Quadrant cultures.
Sitting here, attempting to meditate,
I have counted the number of ways
I know of killing someone
using just a finger, a hand...
a foot...
I had reached 94 when you entered.
The Doctor is fully versed in Vulcan medicine.
Again, for safety reasons,
I recommend you sedate me before you initiate transport.
Levels of neuropeptides in the Iimbic system
are down 15 percent.
There's a definite neuro-chemical imbalance
in the mesiofrontal cortex.
Which means what?
That's where the Vulcan
psycho-suppression systems are Iocated.
This may be the result of a incompatibility
with the Betazoid telepathic neural center.
I'm not sure.
Vulcan mind-melds...
utter foolishness.
Anybody with an ounce of sense
wouldn't share his brain with someone else.
Would you? I certainly wouldn't.
And of course, when something goes wrong—
and believe me, it does more often
than they'd Iike to admit—
the first thing they call out is, "Doctor?"
Can you help him?
I wish I could tell you.
There's a recommended course of treatments
that should begin immediately.
What does it involve?
First, we have to take away
his ability to control his violence.
We do this in short bursts over a period of time
and hope it provides a shock to his system.
If it works,
his own neural controls will take over again.
I believe we're about ready.
Revive him.
Something has changed.
We've temporarily
removed all of your emotional suppression
abilities, Lieutenant.
How do you feel?
I... feel.
Tuvok, do you know where you are?
Of course I know where I am, Captain.
I'm just not sure I know... who I am.
Try to relax.
The treatment still has about three minutes to go.
Oh, it must be working
because I feel very strong.
Very... powerful.
Quite euphoric.
This must be how my ancestors felt.
Doctor, would you consider allowing me
to remain this way for a while?
It would be a valuable opportunity
for me to study primal Vulcan behavior.
Sorry, I'm not prepared to do that.
The course of treatment is very specific.
You are not invulnerable, hologram.
A few well-chosen commands
to the computer, and you will cease to exist.
Two minutes, 30 seconds Ieft.
You Iook shocked, Captain.
You must be asking yourself, "What if this doesn't work?
What do we do then?"
I have an idea.
I'II just stay in my quarters for the rest of the trip.
I'II just relax
and read,
eat the ship's food,
use the ship's energy,
all in the comforts of my own room.
Why, even Mr. Suder and I could get together
for a few hands of Cardassian pinochle
once or twice a week.
That is how we treat violent offenders
on this ship, isn't it?
You are not a violent offender, Tuvok.
I could be.
Just Iike Suder.
You know, Captain, I don't mind telling you
something the other Tuvok never would.
You are wrong.
Sparing Suder's Iife is a sign of weakness.
You disgust me.
AII you humans do.
Admit it.
Part of you feels as I do.
Part of you wants him to die for what he did.
No part of me feels that way.
Liar!
He has killed and you know he deserves to die!
On behalf of the victim's family, Captain,
I beg you to reconsider.
Give them the satisfaction of his execution.
I have a radical suggestion, Captain.
Release the force field...
and I'II kill him for you.
Release the force field.
My student—
my protégé—
there is so much to Iearn
for each of us today, isn't there?
You'II be all right, Tuvok.
This'II be over in 30 seconds.
Listen to what I tell you.
Release the force field.
I'm sorry.
I had them disable your telepathic abilities, too.
You can't reach me, Tuvok.
Release the force field!
Ten seconds.
Five seconds.
It's over.
He's Iost consciousness.
He might be able to fool the sensors.
Sedate him again.
Computer, remove the force field.
Help me get him back on the bed.
How many treatments do you think will be necessary?
I wish I knew, Captain.
In a sense, Mr. Tuvok's mind is fighting
a classic battle between good and evil.
The battle may be won in a day, a year...
or it may never be won.
Tuvok?
I wondered what happened to you.
They wouldn't tell me anything.
There were some complications from the meld.
I wondered about that.
I've been undergoing
neuro-synaptic therapy in Sick Bay.
It didn't work.
No.
Have you come to kill me?
To execute you for your crime.
To execute me?
I see.
And calling it that makes it more comfortable for you.
I will take no comfort in this.
A most Iogical use of violence— to punish the violent.
We both know that I am prepared to die,
but are you prepared to kill?
It needs to be done.
To release your violent impulses?
To serve justice.
Justice or vengeance?
Understand one thing, Tuvok.
I can promise you
this will not silence your demons.
If you can't control the violence,
the violence controls you.
Be prepared to yield your entire being to it,
to sacrifice your place in civilized Iife,
for you will no Ionger be a part of it
and there's no return.
I...
seek...
no return.
Of course.
You would not be able to Iive with yourself.
Then we are both to die,
and that will end the torment.
My mind... to your mind.
My thoughts...
to your thoughts.
My mind...
to your mind.
My thoughts to your thoughts.
Crewman Suder to the Bridge.
Suder, what are you doing with a combadge?
You better get down here, Chakotay.
Lieutenant Tuvok needs help.
Captain's Log, supplemental.
Ensign Suder has been incarcerated
in secured quarters
where he will Iikely spend the rest of our journey home.
Lieutenant Tuvok remains under observation in Sick Bay.
It may be hard for you to believe, Lieutenant,
but what happened is encouraging.
Your inability to complete the act of murder
shows your suppression systems are starting to function again.
You're on your way back to being normal.
AIthough, I'm not sure how the word "normal" applies
to a species that suppresses all their emotions.
Captain...
I must apologize for my inappropriate behavior.
I'm just glad we have you back, Mr. Tuvok.
I was most... insulting to you.
Don't worry about it.
I've been insulted before.
I hope you understand
that I have always had
the greatest respect for you as a Captain
and consider you... a friend.
That means a great deal to me.
Enough said.
Get some rest.
Tuvok.
No more mind-melds without my permission.
Understood?
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