Sorry I'm late,
but I have a very good excuse.
Picture this:
I'm just getting ready to leave the Mess Hall
when Ensign Wildman goes into labor.
What else could I do but deliver the baby?
Oh, you should have been there, Harry.
There is nothing like bringing a new life into the world.
I think I missed my calling.
What if I told you
the turbolift got stuck on Deck 6?
This is the third time you've been late this week,
Mr. Paris.
It won't happen again.
Commander, I am picking up a distress call
on one of the upper subspace bands.
What's the source?
A small spacecraft.
No weapon systems.
One life-form aboard.
Extremely weak life signs.
Slow to half impulse.
According to the bioscanner, it's a Vidiian female.
Open a channel.
No response.
She may be too sick.
Or maybe it's some kind of trick.
Preliminary scans show no other Vidiian ships in this sector.
It is unlikely that this is a trap.
Commander Chakotay, notify the Doctor.
Mr. Kim, beam the woman to Sick Bay.
Aye, Captain.
Her renal organs
are functioning at 20 percent of normal
and her cardiovascular system is on the verge of collapse.
20 milligrams of lectrazine.
Cardiovascular and renal systems are stabilizing,
but her neural patterns are fading.
What is it?
In her parietal lobe.
It looks like some sort of implant.
It's a very complex web of bio-neural circuitry,
nano-fibers.
Could this be what's causing the problem?
On the contrary.
According to these readings,
the device is actually storing her synaptic patterns,
processing them
and transmitting neuro-electrical impulses
to the rest of her systems.
Are you saying it's some kind of artificial brain?
No.
I'd say it's more like a neuro-cortical stimulator
designed to supplement the higher brain functions.
But it's not working anymore.
From what I can tell, the implant itself is functioning,
but it's connected to mostly dead nerve cells.
If we don't do something quickly,
she'll be brain dead in a matter of minutes.
What about trying to stimulate cell regeneration
with a high dosage of inaprovaline?
Very impressive, Kes,
but I think it's too late for that.
Get me a high-frequency RF transmitter.
You're going to have to hurry, Kes.
The patient's brain function is diminishing rapidly.
Now... set the delta band frequency
of the holo-emitter to 8.6 tetrahertz.
What are we doing, exactly?
Transferring the patient's synaptic patterns
into the holo-buffer before they degrade completely.
Is there enough storage capacity
in the holo-matrix for such complex data patterns?
There's enough capacity for my program, isn't there?
And my program contains over 50 million gigaquads of data,
which, I don't have to tell you, is considerably more
than the most highly-developed humanoid brains.
What good is preserving her synaptic patterns
if there is no body?
I'm creating a holographic body.
Not only will we be able to communicate
with the patient, but we'll have an accurate model
of healthy Vidiian
physiology that will aid in treating her actual body.
Computer, project the patient's skeletal structure.
Now add internal organs.
Add musculature.
Now apply epidermal layers.
Computer, use transporter records
to recreate the patient's clothing.
According to her ship's navigational logs,
the woman was en route to a remote Vidiian colony.
Are we anywhere near it?
It's about ten light-years away.
We should be in the general vicinity in about 22 days.
Assuming she survives
and we can take adequate security precautions,
we'll turn her over to her people when we get there.
Captain.
Is there something wrong?
I wanted to talk to you about Lieutenant Paris.
His attitude lately's been less than professional.
I've noticed.
I know crew discipline's my responsibility,
but, in this case, I thought I should let you get involved
before I took any action.
In a way, Paris has been
your personal reclamation project.
I appreciate your bringing this to my attention, Commander,
but I trust you to handle the problem any way you see fit.
Chief Medical Officer's Log, supplemental.
Test results indicate
that the holographic body is functioning normally.
The patient's synaptic patterns appear to be stable,
so I'm now ready to begin transferring
her cognitive and motor processes.
Who are you?
I'm the Chief Medical Officer
of the Federation Starship Voyager.
We received your distress call and brought you aboard.
What have you done to me?
It's quite simple really.
I used the undamaged chromosomes in your cerebellum
to recreate your original DNA code,
and then programmed the computer
to project a holographic template based on that genome.
Holographic?
A three-dimensional projection of light and energy.
See for yourself.
Your neural patterns were degrading rapidly.
It was too late
to expect results from inaprovaline,
so I was forced to improvise,
not that it would have occurred to just any physician.
Why are you crying?
I'm sorry. I...
I thought you'd be pleased.
I am.
I just never expected to look healthy again.
I've been sick for so long.
I'll need a complete medical history.
How long have you been ill exactly?
I was first diagnosed with the phage when I was seven.
And when did you begin receiving replacement tissue?
About that same time.
At first, it was hard to get used to the changes,
but it happened so often that after a while,
I almost stopped noticing.
l-I never...
I never thought I'd see myself again.
Thank you.
This is the most extraordinary thing
anyone has ever done for me.
I wouldn't be too grateful.
There are serious limitations to being a hologram.
First of all, we can only exist within environments
equipped with holo-emitters, such as this Sick Bay.
You mean, you're...
I'm this ship's emergency medical holographic program.
You're a computer simulation?
An incredibly sophisticated computer simulation.
I'm sorry.
What did you say your name was?
I don't have a name.
It wasn't part of my original program.
However, you, I'm sure, have one.
Danara.
Danara Pel.
Well, Miss Pel,
may I ask what someone with an illness like yours
was doing alone in space with no access to medical care?
I was helping to treat
an outbreak of the phage on Fina Prime.
I was on my way back to my home colony,
but it's a long journey and my condition got worse.
You're a medical practitioner of some kind?
A hematologist.
Well, then, perhaps, given your expertise,
you can help me with your treatment.
My treatment?
I feel fine.
Unfortunately, that's only temporary.
Your synaptic patterns will eventually degrade
if we don't get them out of the pattern buffers
and back into your brain.
How long?
A few days. Perhaps a week.
I see.
Your real body is in stasis.
As you can see, we have to find a way
to repair your damaged neural tissue.
Is something wrong?
It's nothing.
I'm eager to discuss treatments.
Of course.
The procedure is quite simple.
I'll drill an opening into your skull
precisely two millimeters in diameter,
and then use a neuralyte probe
to extract a sample of your parietal lobe
weighing approximately one gram.
It doesn't sound simple to me.
I still have nightmares
about what those people did to me.
And now you want to crack open my head,
cut out a piece of my brain
and give it to her?
Your experience in the Vidiian prison
suggests Klingon DNA is resistant to the phage.
Losing a small amount of neural tissue is inconsequential.
Not to me, it isn't.
Yet that same tissue,
grafted onto the patient's brain and stimulated to grow,
will significantly slow the spread of her infection.
If we can increase the grafted tissue mass quickly enough,
we can transfer her synaptic patterns
back into her brain before they degrade in the holo-buffer.
It won't cure the phage,
but it should prolong her life considerably.
Please change into a surgical gown
and lie down on bio-bed number one.
I am not going...
Excuse me.
I just want to say that...
I've read about the experiments that were done on you.
What you went through must have been very traumatic.
That is an understatement.
I'm sure it is.
Please understand, this disease
has been killing my people for hundreds of years.
Trying to stop it has become an obsession
and many of our politicians and scientists
have never developed
compassion for the people who keep us alive.
As much as I want to go on living,
I have accepted the fact that I will die soon.
I only want your help if you are willing to give it.
Of course, I... I'd like to help you if I can.
If you have any questions at all about the procedure,
I'd... I'd be happy to answer them for you.
I'll go and get changed.
I've finished ingrafting the Klingon neural tissue
to your cerebral cortex.
Now, all I have to do is create an axonal pathway
between that tissue and your basal ganglia.
Your technique is very impressive.
It's all part of my programming.
For example, this exact procedure was developed
by Dr. Leonard McCoy in the year 2253.
I'm equipped with the collective medical knowledge
of more than 3,000 cultures.
Additionally, as you see here,
my imaging system allows me to perform
and, in many cases, improve upon
the most delicate tactile maneuvers
required by a dizzying array of surgical procedures.
Incredible.
It is, isn't it?
Hand me the submicron suture, please.
There. That should do it.
Ah. Excellent work, Doctor.
I was only assisting.
Nonetheless, that assistance was invaluable.
It could be two or three days
before we'll know if the graft will hold.
In the meantime, perhaps I should deactivate
your program temporarily.
Do you have to?
It would slow the degradation of your synaptic patterns.
But I have so much energy.
I don't know.
Maybe it's the excitement of the surgery, or...
or maybe it's this new body.
What I'd really like to do is take a walk
and see the rest of your ship.
Unfortunately, that's not possible.
However, if you're looking for something to do,
please feel free to use my office
to access our medical database.
You'll find several interesting texts
on comparative endocrinology.
All right.
Thank you.
On second thought, there is someplace else we could go.
It's wonderful.
If I had a place like this to go to,
I'd be there every day.
Don't your people have recreational facilities?
Congregating in groups is strictly regulated.
It's considered to be a threat to public health.
A wise policy.
I suppose.
Sometimes, I think my people spend so much time
trying to save lives,
they don't know how to live anymore.
Doctor, aren't you going to introduce me to your date?
She is not my date.
She's my patient.
I'm sorry. I didn't realize...
Mr. Neelix, this is Dr. Danara Pel.
As Chief Morale Officer,
may I be the first to welcome you to Voyager.
Madame, your loveliness
illuminates our dark little cavern.
May I have the pleasure of this next dance?
Go away immediately.
Both of you. You're disturbing my patient.
You are just jealous because you cannot dance.
Let's go.
You're making the lady nervous.
Nice to meet you.
I apologize.
No. They were just being nice.
Irritating, isn't it?
I guess I'm just not used to... so much attention.
Where I come from,
when you're as sick as I am,
people... healthy people... stay away from you.
I guess...
I...
I forgot for a second
that I don't look like that anymore.
It's a natural response.
All this talk about me.
There's still so much I'd like to know about you.
There's not much to tell, really.
My program was developed by Dr. Louis Zimmerman
in a lab on Jupiter Station.
I was activated on stardate 48308.
Since that time, I've performed 347 medical exams,
healed 11 compound fractures, performed three appendectomies
and, in my greatest feat of medical prowess,
I once cured Mr. Neelix of an acute case of the hiccups.
You're very funny.
I am?
Well, several clinical studies
have shown humor to be very therapeutic.
Consider it part of your treatment.
What is it?
It's, uh... just that I...
I haven't laughed in a very long time.
Thank you.
What did that man mean when he said you can't "dance"?
That's dancing.
And you can't do it?
It's not part of my programming.
Oh.
I see.
Well, Dr. Pel...
Please, call me Danara.
As you wish... Danara.
And what about you?
What should I call you?
Well, as I said...
I know. You don't have a name.
Would it be all right if I gave you one?
Well, I...
How about...
Shmullus?
It was my uncle's name.
He used to make me laugh, too.
Doctor...
Shmullus.
I think I like the sound of that.
Well...
here we are.
Yes.
Here we are.
Danara, I think we should...
Yes?
Deactivate your program for at least eight hours.
If you think it's best.
I do.
All right, then.
All right.
Computer...
- Shmullus? - Yes?
I had a wonderful time.
I'm pleased.
Thank you...
for...
everything.
Thank you for...
giving me a name.
Uh... well...
good night, Danara.
Good night...
Shmullus.
Computer, deactivate Vidiian program Alpha.
Mind if I join you?
So how are things, Tom?
Excuse me?
How have you been feeling lately?
Is something bothering you?
Oh, no offense, Commander,
but why the sudden concern for my feelings?
Well, you've been moody lately,
indifferent to your duties.
To be honest, you don't seem to be
taking your job very seriously.
If you've got a problem,
I'd like to know what it is.
Yeah, I've got a problem.
My problem is you.
You care to elaborate?
You tell me I don't take my job seriously,
but half the time, you don't let me do my job.
What's that supposed to mean?
It means that you don't trust my judgment.
You don't allow me to take initiative.
Remember last week?
I suggested that we might save time
by traveling through that emissions nebula.
But what did you say?
"Oh, no, that's not the way we do things on this ship."
Look, sometimes I'm not going to agree with your suggestions,
but making decisions is part of being a leader.
Maybe someday you'll understand that.
Being a leader also means knowing when to give your people
a little leeway and let them be creative.
We might as well put this ship on autopilot
for all the freedom you give me to do my job.
I didn't come here for a lecture from you on how to do my job.
Yeah, well, I know you don't put much stock in my opinion,
so maybe you should talk to some of these people.
Because I'm not the only one around here
who's got a problem with you.
Now, if there's nothing else...
sir...
I'd like to be excused.
Sure, Paris.
You're excused.
Dissension among the Voyager crew.
Maje Culluh will find that very interesting.
Good work, Mr. Jonas.
Now, there's something else we'd like you to do.
We want you to create a small accident, which will damage
Voyager's warp coils.
Why?
There's no need to concern yourself with that.
You just... plan the accident.
We'll let you know exactly when we want it to happen.
Do we understand each other?
I want to talk to Seska.
I'm afraid Maje Culluh...
You tell Maje Culluh
that I won't do anything to damage Voyager,
and if he has a problem with that,
tell him to have Seska contact me.
Doctor, when you have a minute.
I'm running a level-2 self-diagnostic right now.
I'll be there as soon as I'm finished.
Why are you running a diagnostic?
I've been experiencing periodic lapses in concentration
and difficulty handling objects.
There may be a malfunction
in my tactile acuity subroutine.
How long has this been going on?
About two or three days.
Since Danara came aboard.
What's your point?
Maybe she's the reason you're feeling this way.
I fail to see a connection.
Maybe you're attracted to her.
I told you, my program's malfunctioning.
Romance is not a malfunction.
Romance is not part of my programming.
Your programming's adaptive, isn't it?
Yes.
Then I'd say it's adapting.
What if...
I don't want it to adapt right now?
Why wouldn't you?
Because I don't like what's happening to me.
I'm used to being in control of my faculties...
confident of my decisions.
But lately...
whenever Danara's program is deactivated
and I should be concentrating on my work...
I find myself thinking of nothing but her.
Why don't you reactivate her?
Because whenever I do that, I suddenly feel...
unsettled... unsure of myself, and I have no idea what to say.
Why would people seek out situations
which induce such unpleasant symptoms?
Because when the other person feels the same way you do,
it's the most wonderful thing in life.
Suppose...
hypothetically
of course...
Of course.
I wanted to pursue that possibility.
How would I proceed?
You'd have to tell her how you feel.
That's it?
Just... tell her how I feel?
Otherwise, you may never know how she feels.
I'm going to try stimulating your motor neurons.
Well, the nucleus cuneatus
appears to be functioning normally.
And now for the anterior thalamic pathway.
Excellent.
By the way, Danara, I've been meaning to tell you...
Yes?
I'm romantically attracted to you
and wanted to know if you felt the same way.
Is something wrong?
No. I...
Did you understand what I said?
Yes.
Well?
Doctor, maybe now isn't the time to...
Excuse me, Kes. I was speaking to Danara.
I think it's best if we keep our relationship... professional.
Well...
I'm going to...
try stimulating the posterior sciatic nerve.
Doc, what brings you here?
Is somebody sick?
Actually, Mr. Paris, I was looking for you.
Oh.
Well, pull up a chair.
Mr. Paris,
I assume you've had a great deal of experience
being rejected by women.
Oh, thanks a lot, Doc.
What I'd like to know is:
What does one do to recover
from the unpleasant symptoms of romantic rejection?
Why the sudden interest in romance?
I can't tell you.
It's a matter of doctor/ patient confidentiality.
Ah.
All right, well, let's see.
Sometimes there's not a lot you can do
to get over a woman you really care about.
I remember when Susie Crabtree dumped me
back in my first year at the Academy.
I broke out in hives.
Couldn't get out of bed for a week.
I almost failed Stellar Cartography.
I walked around in a daze for the rest of that year.
Of course, the first one is always the hardest to get over.
I see.
But... eventually,
you start thinking about her less and less,
until finally, without realizing it,
she's not on your mind anymore.
So the symptoms do subside over time?
For the most part.
But every now and then, even years later,
something reminds you of her...
a certain smell, a few notes of a song...
and suddenly you feel
just as bad as the day she told you
she never wanted to see you again.
If you want to know the honest truth, Doc,
you never completely get over a woman you really cared about.
Wait a minute.
Doc, we're not talking about you, are we?
I told you, it was confidential.
Oh, boy, you've got it bad.
Look, Doc, I don't mean to intrude,
but if you tell me what's going on, maybe I can help.
Hello, Kes.
Are you feeling all right?
I'm fine.
I'm just... waiting for the Doctor.
Oh.
He's been gone a long time.
You really like him, don't you?
Then... why didn't you tell him
that you felt the same way
when he told you that he was attracted to you?
I don't know. It all happened so fast.
He just blurted it out.
He's very blunt.
You shouldn't take it personally.
How could he possibly have
those kinds of feelings about me?
Maybe because you're a compassionate person,
a brilliant doctor,
you appreciate his humor...
Should I go on?
Please don't.
One thing you're not very good at
is accepting a compliment.
The next time someone has something nice to say about you
maybe you should just take them at their word
and feel good about yourself.
It's not easy to feel good about yourself
when you're used to living your life... like that.
Danara, I can't pretend to know what your life's been like,
but I do know there's nothing sadder
than a missed opportunity.
Maybe what you and the Doctor need
is to spend some time together... alone.
It sounds to me like she might just be shy.
I think you scared her off.
I did?
Your approach is all wrong.
Well, what would be the right approach?
Women like romance.
They want men to make an effort...
take them someplace special.
Where would I take her?
Come with me, Doc.
I've got an idea.
Doctor's Personal Log, Stardate 49504.3.
Inaugural entry.
Kes and Mr. Paris have conspired
to get Danara and me alone together
in a place Paris considers romantic.
I've never felt more... uneasy.
I wasn't sure you were coming.
Neither was I.
If you don't want to be here...
No.
I do.
Where are we exactly?
On a planet called Mars.
Inside a primitive land-based vehicle.
It's called a '57 Chevy.
Mr. Paris is quite an automobile aficionado.
This is his program.
What is it that we're supposed to be doing?
I believe it's called... parking.
I almost forgot.
These are for you.
Thank you.
You're... you're very... very thoughtful.
My prayer...
I downloaded a new dancing subroutine
into my program this morning.
Would you like to get out and try it?
Actually...
I wouldn't mind just... sitting here for a while.
You wouldn't?
Those moons and star formations
are so different from anything I've ever seen before.
Well, if you're interested,
I could point out a few astronomical highlights.
You see that bluish planet there...
that's called "Earth."
It's where Starfleet Headquarters is located.
With the world far away...
And over... there that's "Cygnus."
And there...
that constellation is called "Hercules,"
named after a character in ancient Greek myth.
Hippocrates was also a Greek.
He was the father of...
Tonight...
Earth medicine.
While our heart are aglow...
And that cluster over there...
that's... called the "Pleiades."
Oh, tell me the words that I'm longing to know
My prayer
And the answer you give
May they still be the same
For as long as we live
That you'll always be there...
Sorry I'm late.
That's all right, Mr. Paris.
We don't need you.
Mr. Grimes has taken your place at conn.
But it's my shift.
Not today it isn't.
What, because I was ten minutes late?
That's right.
Captain...
Don't look at me, Mr. Paris.
Commander Chakotay has complete discretion in this matter.
So, when should I report back for duty?
When you decide to start taking your job seriously,
we'll discuss it.
But right now, you're dismissed.
Get your hands off me!
Mr. Tuvok.
Yes, Captain.
Please escort Mr. Paris to the brig.
Oh, boy, am I glad to see you.
I wasn't even sure if they were giving you my messages.
I've gotten them all, Mike.
You've been very helpful.
Do you know what they're asking me to do?
You mean about the warp coils?
I was thinking you could do it
by forcing the magnetic constrictors out of alignment.
Look, Seska, I don't mind feeding you information,
but if you're planning some kind of attack...
I have no intention of raising my child on a Kazon ship!
One way or another, I'm going to take Voyager.
You can either help me or you can suffer
along with Janeway and the others.
Don't worry, Mike.
Everything's been planned to the letter.
Here's how it's going to work.
We'll be waiting for you on a planet called Hemikek IV.
Doctor's Personal Log, Stardate 49507.2.
The more time I spend with Danara,
the more my programming continues to adapt.
I look forward to perfecting my romantic skills
once we've completed the synaptic transfer.
Set the delta band frequency of the holo-emitter
to seven terahertz.
Seven terahertz.
Wait a minute.
Did you administer the cervaline as I instructed?
500 milligrams every four hours.
I don't understand it.
What's wrong?
The brain... your brain... it's rejecting the graft.
We can't go through with the transfer.
I'm detecting elevated levels of nytoxinol.
Where could that have come from?
Is it possible you made an error?
Administered nytoxinol instead of cervaline?
No, I don't think so.
But here's the hypospray I used.
Check for yourself.
You're correct. It's cervaline.
Has anyone else been in Sick Bay
during the last 24 hours other than you and Danara?
Crewman Foster came in for some analgesic
and Ensign Wildman was here
for her regular prenatal visit. Why?
Because, if the nytoxinol
was not administered by accident,
I can only conclude
that someone is deliberately trying to kill Danara.
Who would want to kill her?
Perhaps someone who bears ill will toward Vidiians.
Whoever it is, I intend to find out.
I'm calling Lieutenant Tuvok.
Please don't do that.
We have to find out
who's trying to obstruct your recovery.
I administered the nytoxinol.
Didn't you know it would kill you?
You mean kill her.
She is you.
Was me.
I don't ever want to be her again.
What are you doing?
Looking for the cervaline.
I have to reduce the rate of tissue rejection
before it's too late.
Kes, would you excuse us?
I don't want to go through with the transfer.
If we don't get your neural patterns
out of the holo-buffer,
you'll be brain dead in a matter of days.
I can't let that happen.
I'd rather live two more days like this with you
than go on for who knows how long,
wasting away a piece at a time.
It's my duty to keep you alive.
I thought you were more than my doctor.
I thought you were my friend.
I am your friend.
What kind of friend would ask me to go on living like this?
And for what?
So that I can go back to a world
where everyone I ever loved has died,
where almost everyone I meet is going to die?
You're a doctor.
You can help them.
I can't help them.
I can't cure them.
All I can do is prolong their suffering...
just like you want to do to me now.
Danara...
I have no desire to see you suffer.
Do you know what it's like? Do you?
No, but...
What it's like to be a nine-year-old child
and suddenly your best friend
doesn't want to come to your house anymore.
And when you ask your mother why...
"Why won't Mala come and play with me anymore?"
And she tells you it's because...
it's because the other children are afraid of you.
Listen to me.
Before I met you, I was just a disease.
But now, everything's different.
When people look at me,
they don't see a disease anymore.
They see a woman,
a woman you made,
a woman you love,
a woman you're not afraid to touch.
Danara, I was never afraid to touch you.
Why? Because you're a doctor?
Because I love you.
You say that now,
but if I go through with the transfer...
If you go through with the transfer...?
I will be sick again...
and ugly.
Danara, you're not ugly. You're simply ill.
Please, stop patronizing me!
I know how people see me.
Danara, do you think if you go back
into your own body, I'll feel different about you?
Won't you?
Listen to me.
Nothing could ever change the way I feel about you...
not a few scars, not some diseased skin, nothing.
You have given me the most extraordinary gift
that anyone has ever given me.
You brought me to this ship
where no one is sick, and people are friendly.
You've made me healthy and beautiful.
I don't want to go back to the way things were.
You said, before you knew me, that you were just a disease.
Well, before you, I was just a projection of photons
held together by force fields,
a computerized physician doing a job,
doing it exceptionally well, of course,
but still, it was... just a profession, not a life.
But now that you're here, and my programming has adapted,
I'm not just working anymore.
I'm living, learning what it means...
to be with someone, to love someone.
I don't think I can go back to the way things were either.
Danara, please...
don't die.
I want us to be together.
So do I.
But if you put me back into that body,
I'll have to go home... and help my people.
I know.
But we'd still have two weeks together
before we reached your colony.
Danara, please, be with me for as long as you can.
Computer, play music program Doctor-alpha.