Captain's Log, Stardate 50537.2.
Routine scans of an uninhabited star system
have revealed the presence of gallicite,
a very rare substance, on the fourth planet.
If these readings are right,
we're looking at a yield of nearly a kiloton.
That would be enough gallicite
to completely refit the warp coils.
They sure could use it with all the damage
they've taken the past two years.
Is there anyone in the area
who might consider this their property?
There are indications
that a colony once existed on the planet's surface.
However, it appears to be long abandoned.
All right, let's stake a claim.
I'll leave this in your hands, B'Elanna.
Use whatever resources and personnel you need.
You might want to talk to Mr. Neelix.
I believe he spent some time working in a mining colony.
Aye, Captain.
These tunnels are clearly artificial.
Someone else must've been interested
in digging up this gallicite.
That should make it easier to access the deposits.
True, but we have to be careful.
There's been a lot of seismic activity down there.
Look, these tunnels are completely collapsed.
We should bring Tom Paris on the away team.
He's had quite a lot of rock-climbing experience.
I have spent several summers exploring the Osana caverns,
which involved some quite treacherous climbing.
Great. You two can be our safety experts.
Have we completed our preparations
to your satisfaction?
We're done here, yes.
Let me take this opportunity to declare Koon-ut so'lik—
my desire to become your mate.
What?
In human terms, I am...
proposing marriage.
Do you accept?
Uh, this is a-a little sudden...
isn't it?
Besides, I thought that Vulcan marriages were arranged.
Don't you already have somebody back home?
She has sufficient reason to consider me lost,
and has most likely chosen another mate.
It's appropriate for me to do the same.
And you've chosen me.
I've come to greatly admire
not only your impressive technical skills,
but also your bravery and sense of moral duty—
all excellent qualities in a prospective mate.
But you're a Vulcan.
I am... half Klingon.
I really can't imagine...
Perhaps we are not an obvious match.
However, our differences would complement each other.
You've often expressed frustration
with your Klingon temper.
My mental discipline would help you control it.
Furthermore, I feel that...
Wait, please.
Please. Um...
I see that you've given this a lot of, um, logical thought,
and, uh, I really am very flattered...
but my answer is no.
I'm sorry.
B'Elanna...
you may wish to reconsider.
Your choices for a mate are currently limited
to 73 male crew members on this ship—
some of whom are already unavailable.
I'll worry about my choices myself, thank you.
I should also remind you that many humanoid species
are unable to withstand Klingon mating practices.
Okay, that's enough.
Whereas, my superior Vulcan strength
would make me a very suitable partner.
Here are the results of his cortical scan.
So, what's wrong with him?
In addition to a dislocated jaw,
Ensign Vorik seems to be suffering
from a neurochemical imbalance.
Meaning... what?
I believe I should discuss that with the patient privately.
You're going through the Pon farr, aren't you?
That's an extremely...
personal question, Doctor.
Yes, I'm aware that Vulcans prefer
to keep their mating practices very much to themselves.
There's almost nothing in the medical database
beyond a few observations made by Starfleet doctors
over the years.
Your symptoms—
the chemical imbalance and loss of emotional control—
are consistent with those observations.
Have you been eating and sleeping normally?
I knew there was something wrong.
I was hoping it wasn't...
this.
I assume this is your first Pon farr?
There's nothing to be embarrassed about.
It's a normal biological function.
I'll do what l can to help you through it,
but I'll need a little more information.
We do not discuss it.
I'm afraid you'll have to.
You have a severe imbalance in your brain chemistry.
If it gets much worse, it could become life-threatening.
Now I need to know how Vulcans deal with this condition.
We...
go home.
Every seven years of our adult life,
Vulcans experience an instinctual...
irresistible urge to return to the homeworld
and... take a mate.
But in your case, being stranded
halfway across the galaxy, that's impossible.
Yes.
So, then, logically, you try to find a mate here.
I assume that explains your behavior
toward Lieutenant Torres.
I have always had great respect for B'Elanna.
I hope she isn't too...
upset with me.
With Lieutenant Torres, "upset" is a relative term.
In any case, we're going to have to try to find
another way to treat your condition.
Let's start with a micro-cellular scan.
No!
I don't want medical treatment.
I will resolve this myself.
How do you intend to do that?
There are certain meditative techniques.
I will be fine if simply left alone.
Please...
allow me to return to my quarters.
Confine me there if you wish,
but allow me to resolve my situation privately.
Until I have a better idea
of how to treat your condition...
I'll release you to your quarters.
You'll be under confinement
and wearing a cortical monitor at all times.
Thank you.
I'm concerned about Ensign Vorik's cortical readings.
One returns to normal levels.
Then another one spikes.
It's chaotic, as if the brain's
regulatory system had simply shut down.
I can't tell if he's making any progress
with these meditations.
I thought maybe you could suggest
other possible treatments.
I cannot.
Is that because you don't know
or because you don't want to discuss it?
For both of those reasons,
there is little help that I can offer.
It is inappropriate for me to involve myself
in Ensign Vorik's personal situation.
For such an intellectually enlightened race,
Vulcans have a remarkably Victorian attitude about sex.
That is a very human judgment, Doctor.
Then here's a Vulcan one.
I fail to see the logic in perpetuating ignorance
about a basic biological function.
There is nothing logical about the Pon farr
It is a time when instinct and emotion
dominate over reason.
It cannot be analyzed by the rational mind
nor cured by conventional medicine.
Anyone who has experienced it
understands that it must simply be followed
to its natural resolution.
Which is what, exactly?
There are three options that I am aware of:
taking a mate, which Ensign Vorik has already attempted;
the ritual combat, which does not apply
to his situation.
Combat?
An ancient tradition of fighting for one's mate—
which, as I have said, is not relevant here.
The third alternative is the intensive meditation
he has chosen to try.
Isn't there anything we can do to help him with that?
I believe that any interference
would be unwelcome and counterproductive.
You must allow him to face this challenge privately.
If he possesses enough discipline
to reach a point of psychological resolution,
then his chemical imbalance should correct itself.
The Vulcan brain never ceases to amaze me.
Thank you, Lieutenant. You've been a great help.
Ah, you two are awfully prompt.
Impressed?
Oh, it'll take a little more work
than that to impress me, Lieutenant.
Yes, ma'am.
All right. Let me show you our target area.
Shouldn't we wait for Ensign Vorik?
He's not coming.
This seems to be
the most accessible vein of gallicite.
We'll beam to the surface
then go down through this passageway
until it dead-ends in this chamber.
Then we'll descend almost 50 meters, almost straight down.
Do you see any problem with that, Tom?
Um... well, as long
as we go slow and easy, we'll be fine.
Good. You're all set, Neelix?
I've got a laser drill, sample cases,
geo-spectral analysis kit...
In other words, you're ready.
Let's go.
This way.
Look over here.
This must have been the colony.
Not more than 50 or 60 years ago—
hardly enough time for these structures
to decay so badly.
They must have suffered some kind of disaster—
maybe an earthquake.
Well, we'll send down an archaeological team later on.
Right now, we've got our own work to do.
Are we in a rush?
I just don't see any point in wasting time—
unless, of course, you want to stall,
to put off demonstrating your climbing expertise.
Grab your gear and try to keep up.
No matter how real a holodeck program may seem,
it just doesn't get your heart pumping
like a genuine physical challenge.
It's exhilarating.
If you're looking for exhilaration...
It didn't look quite so steep on the sensor map, did it?
We're prepared for this.
We can handle it.
Let's go.
All this Starfleet technology almost takes the fun out of it.
If you mean the fun of wondering whether your anchor will hold
while you're dangling over a cliff, I think I'll pass.
See you below.
You go first. I'll follow you.
Watch your footing!
You're right.
My heart is pumping faster.
Wait till we climb back up with a pack full of gallicite.
Oh, I'm just getting warmed up.
No!
Are you hurt?
You, you almost got us both killed!
I'm sorry.
I don't know what happened.
Careful, careful.
You might have broken it.
You had no business rigging safety equipment
when you had no idea what you were doing!
Calm down.
This wasn't Neelix's fault.
I saw him drive the piton, and it was solid.
It must have malfunctioned.
You are hurt.
I'm fine. No thanks to you two.
I would have been better coming down here alone.
Don't you think you're overreacting a little bit?
Just drag him to the ship.
I'll get the gallicite myself.
We can't leave you down here alone.
He's right.
Let's contact the ship.
You get your hands off of me.
B'Elanna!
What is wrong with you?
Nothing.
I'm in charge of this mission.
I'll finish it.
Wait.
Go ahead, Tom.
I'll be all right here.
The last thing we need
is for all three of us to split up.
Paris to Voyager
We've got problems down here.
I haven't been able to contact her.
She's either out of communications range
or just not responding.
Where is she now?
The last location
I can verify is about ten meters below us.
I tried to stop her from leaving, Captain,
but she got very hostile and... bit me.
She bit you?
And she seemed to be enjoying it in a Klingon kind of way.
She's really not herself.
Any luck in getting a transporter lock on them?
No. They're too far beneath the surface.
Tom, I'm sending an away team down to you.
We'll get Neelix out of there, then go after B'Elanna.
Tuvok, you're with Chakotay.
Captain, I'd like to request a short delay.
I may have an explanation for Lieutenant Torres' behavior.
Go away.
I said...
go away!
I'm sorry, sir.
No. I must apologize for the intrusion,
particularly at this time.
Then you know.
Yes. I regret
that I must ask you some uncomfortable questions
regarding Lieutenant Torres.
Yes, sir.
It is important for me to know specifically
what happened between the two of you.
Was there any physical contact?
Yes.
Please describe your actions.
It's... hard to remember.
I was acting irrationally.
I believe... I approached her.
I...
I touched her face.
I meant to be gentle,
but she tried to move away
and then I was holding her more tightly,
both hands on her face, like this.
It felt very important not to let go.
I'm... I'm not certain why.
I believe you were initiating a telepathic mating bond.
I... didn't know it could happen that way.
I wanted to bond with her. That much I remember clearly.
Apparently, you succeeded.
Lieutenant Torres has been displaying unusual behavior,
very much like the early stages of Pon farr
How is that possible?
She's not Vulcan.
There have been instances
of Vulcans mating with members of other races.
But she rejected me, forcefully.
Even a brief moment of bonding
may have been enough to disrupt her self-control,
as the Pon farr does in us.
In a half-Klingon, the effects may be even more extreme.
I have to go to her.
You cannot.
Lieutenant Torres is out of contact on the planet.
Then I'll find her.
B'Elanna needs me, and I need her.
It is a far more sensible strategy
to get her safely back to Voyager
and then decide on the proper resolution.
The resolution must be that we become mates.
It is only logical.
Lieutenant Torres has never been a great follower of logic.
You think she'll reject me again?
It might be wise
to continue your meditative efforts.
I'll do my best, sir.
It is difficult to estimate how soon her condition
will become life-threatening.
Life-threatening? She could die from this?
Yes.
And you've gone through it
every seven years of your adult life?
You only need to be concerned
with Lieutenant Torres' situation.
Right.
Well, it looks like finding her won't be easy.
Scanning range is limited to about 20 meters,
and even that's not too reliable.
You said she was going after the gallicite,
so we'll do the same, and hope it leads us to her.
I'm ready to go, Commander.
Let's go.
B'Elanna.
Tom.
Come here, you've got to see this.
How are you feeling, Lieutenant?
Fine. This is an active power system.
It must have been built by the colonists.
We'll send somebody down here to study it
more closely.
Right now, we've got to get you back to the ship.
No. No. This is my discovery. It's my mission.
You don't understand.
This is the source of the gallicite readings.
These conduits are covered with gallicite plating.
It's exactly what we need, and I found it.
Yes, Lieutenant.
You've succeeded in your mission.
Now you must tend to yourself.
You're experiencing a condition known as Pon farr
Pon what?
Your emotional balance has been disrupted.
You may not be in control
of your more aggressive instincts.
I lost my temper for a minute. That's all.
Why are you all staring at me like that?
Please, come back with us to the ship.
Just leave me alone.
Who are you?
What do you want?
My name is Chakotay.
I assure you we have no hostile intent.
She does.
B'Elanna, please.
She is suffering from a chemical imbalance
which is affecting her behavior.
An imbalance?
Is it contagious?
No. However, she does need our assistance.
We'd be glad to take her and leave your territory.
Not before you tell me why you came here.
We only came to find some gallicite.
We thought this planet was uninhabited.
Then why are you carrying weapons?
It's standard procedure for any mission
into unfamiliar territory.
Let me see one.
And what is that?
Some sort of scanning device?
Yes. It's called a tricorder.
But it didn't detect any life-forms here?
No, it didn't.
What's that?
Seismic alert.
That wall is unstable.
Be careful.
Watch out.
B'Elanna, don't!
B'Elanna!
There must be a hidden door, some kind of a passageway.
I'm not picking up anything like that...
or any life signs.
Then you're using it wrong.
Yeah, that must be it...
or else these aliens are generating
some kind of interference so we can't detect them.
We have to get out of here before they come back.
We can't leave Chakotay and Tuvok.
If you have any ideas how to find them, I'm listening.
We have to get back to the ship and get some help...
for them and for you.
Why does everybody keep saying there's something wrong with me?
I'll try to explain it to you.
But we've got to get moving.
There.
Your serotonin levels are stabilized for the moment,
but I'm concerned about these fluctuations.
It's becoming more difficult to compensate.
I will increase my efforts...
to control them, Doctor.
I'd like you to consider an alternative treatment
I've been developing.
No, I will deal with this myself.
Ensign, your life is at risk.
You don't understand.
How well a Vulcan copes
with this experience is a test of his character.
I've already humiliated myself and Lieutenant Tuvok
by allowing a private matter to become so...
public.
Give yourself a little credit.
You're doing the best you can
under unusually difficult circumstances.
If you were back on Vulcan,
you'd have your family and friends there to help you.
I shouldn't need any help.
I know that self-sufficiency is very important to a Vulcan,
but there is nothing shameful in getting
a little guidance every once in a while.
I'd like you to consider my alternative,
and then you can decide whether or not to try it.
Ensign.
I don't understand the purpose of coming here.
Trust me.
Ensign Vorik,
I'd like you to meet T'Pera.
Surely you're not suggesting that she become my mate.
Well, I wouldn't recommend a lifetime commitment, but...
she might be able to help you with your immediate problem.
She's a hologram.
She isn't real.
Then I assume you have the same low regard for me.
You're a skilled physician, Doctor,
but let me point out the limitations
to your own experience with physical matters.
I believe we're discussing
your sexual difficulties at the moment, Ensign.
And this holographic mate
is the best solution I can think of.
She won't be the same as a real mate.
The difference is all in your mind,
which, if I've understood you and Mr. Tuvok correctly,
is where the Pon farr must ultimately be resolved.
Let your mind convince your body that she...
is exactly what you need her to be.
Think of this as an advanced self-healing technique.
It will still require considerable
mental discipline on your part.
There is a certain logic to your suggestion, Doctor.
I will try.
Good.
Well, then, I'll leave the two of you alone.
Tuvok must be wrong about this Pon farr business.
It doesn't make any sense.
It does explain how you've been acting.
I don't see what's so strange.
How about starting a fight with a group of armed aliens?
Shouting at Neelix? Giving me this?
If I remember my Klingon customs,
biting someone on the face means...
I know what it means.
All right.
So, maybe I do feel...
something, some kind of...
instinct.
What am I supposed to do about it?
When we get back to the ship,
the Doctor should be able to help—
or there's always Vorik.
I am not helping that Vulcan pahtk
The idea of bonding with him...
it's ludicrous.
What's this?
The tremor must have shaken the rocks loose.
Well, they're in the way.
No, hold it.
We don't know how stable this tunnel is.
An energy blast might bring the rest of it down on our heads.
Let go!
No.
I think I should keep this.
Never pick a fight with a Klingon, Tom.
I'm not going to fight with you, B'Elanna.
Afraid I'll break your arm?
You should be.
B'Elanna, stop it!
This isn't about the gun.
This is about sex.
But that's not going to happen right now.
I think it is.
See, I've picked up your scent, Tom.
I've tasted your blood.
No.
No, I'm your friend
and I have to watch out for you
when your judgment's been impaired.
If you let these instincts take over now,
you'll hate yourself
and me, too, for taking advantage of you.
I won't do that.
Maybe...
maybe we should continue separately.
No.
You don't know how strong...
how hard it is to fight this...
urge.
Are you telling me that I'm impossible to resist?
I wouldn't go that far.
Good.
Come on.
I want to know about the vessel which brought you here—
your propulsion systems, weapons, sensors— everything.
You have an artificial implant in your arm.
Yes. It was necessary to replace the elbow joint
after I was injured in a combat simulation.
I also want to know about your medical technology—
scientific advances, artificial intelligence...
I'd be glad to tell you all about my people
and learn about yours.
There's no need to hold us here for interrogation.
You should expect no better treatment
after invading Sakari territory.
As I said, we didn't know there was anyone down here.
Yes... so you've said.
Your people have clearly made
every effort to avoid detection by outsiders.
Is it so difficult to believe
that those measures were effective in our case?
If they had been fully effective, you wouldn't
have found anything interesting enough to bring you here.
That's something we can help you with.
What?
We can show you how we detected the gallicite,
so you can disguise it better.
We can also help you eliminate
the last traces of the ruins on the surface,
so no one else will be curious about them.
You've seen the ruins?
Yes.
I assume the Sakari once lived there.
Long ago...
before I was born.
What happened?
My people never even knew who the invaders were
or why they attacked.
It was all over in less than an hour.
Some of the colonists were fortunate enough
to escape into the mines.
We've lived here ever since, where it's safe.
If the invaders ever learned of our existence here,
they might return.
I certainly understand your caution,
but let us demonstrate our good faith
by helping you protect yourselves.
Then we'll go and never bother you again.
Agreed.
But you will be supervised at all times.
We're almost to the next passageway.
Can you make it?
Not much choice.
It's all right.
We'll find a way out.
We should use that weapon.
It's worth the risk now.
Well, I might agree with you if I still had it.
It's buried somewhere under all that.
What?
Sorry.
Try to stay calm.
I know it's hard.
You don't know anything!
I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin!
I need to do something.
I can't take this!
You've never been hard to get, Tom.
Well, I'm making an exception.
I can't let you do this.
Oh?
Oh, but you wish you could.
All those invitations to dinner...
and on the holodeck, the way you would stare at me
when you thought I wasn't looking...
and get jealous when I'm with someone else.
You can't tell me you're not interested in me.
You're right.
I can't.
Then don't push me away.
Oh, believe me, I'd like to,
but I know this isn't really you.
You've made it clear that you're not interested
and I have to accept that's how you feel, even now.
No...
no, it isn't.
I was... I was just afraid to admit it.
You see, I've wanted this for so long.
Just let it happen.
I hope someday you'll say that to me and mean it.
You'd let me go insane rather than help me?
You know that's not true.
You just... stay away from me!
You called, Ensign?
Is there a... problem?
Not at all.
You seem...
much improved.
Yes.
Your holodeck therapy was very effective.
I must compliment you on an innovative solution.
I'm pleased to hear that.
This could be a viable alternative
for space-faring Vulcans.
When we get back, I'm sure Starfleet medical will...
never hear about your personal experiences from me.
Thank you, Doctor.
May I return to duty?
Soon enough, Ensign.
I'll need to run a few more cortical scans.
Mr. Vorik's biochemical readings are stabilizing.
They're not back to normal yet,
but I believe he's gotten through the worst of it.
I'm ready to release him from Sick Bay.
Good work, Doctor.
Will this treatment help B'Elanna as well?
I don't see why not.
As soon as the away team gets back,
I'll send her straight to you.
I'll get to work designing
the half-Klingon version of the program.
There's a copious amount of information
in the cultural database about their mating practices.
Did you know that fracturing a clavicle
on the wedding night is actually
considered a blessing on the marriage?
As a matter of fact, I didn't.
I'm planning to do a comparative study
of all these mating rituals.
It really is fascinating...
from a sociobiological point of view.
I'm sure B'Elanna will appreciate your efforts, Doctor.
Mm.
Where are we?
Still stuck in the cave, I'm afraid.
The caves?
The gallicite— where's my tricorder?
No, we're not looking for the gallicite anymore.
We're trying to get back to the ship, remember?
No... I don't.
Are you two all right?
B'Elanna needs help.
We've got to get her out of here.
Chakotay to Voyager
Please respond.
Still nothing.
What's the matter?
Why aren't they answering?
There must be some kind of communications problem.
I'm sure they'll clear it up soon.
It may not be soon enough.
I am concerned about the rapid progression of her symptoms.
You must help her now, Mr. Paris.
If she does not resolve the Pon farr,
she will die.
B'Elanna, I know this is a pretty bizarre situation—
probably not what either one of us had in mind—
but it's too late to worry about that now.
Tom...
What?
Be quiet.
So, this is the part
where you throw heavy objects at me?
Maybe later.
I'm not sure exactly what I'm supposed to do.
Well, what are you doing?
Enjoying myself?
Then show it.
You are my mate, not his!
What are you doing here?
I've come to claim you, to fulfill our bond
and if necessary, to face my rival!
Lieutenant Tuvok!
Ensign.
Sir, I declare Koon-ut kal-if-fee
The ritual challenge.
He intends to fight to win his mate.
If you want a fight, you've got one.
Hold on, Tom.
There's not going to be any challenge.
Are you responsible for the ship being out of contact?
It was necessary to disable the communications,
transporters and shuttles.
No one will keep me from my mate!
I am not your mate!
We will soon decide that!
If anyone is going to smash
your arrogant little face in, I will!
I take your challenge myself!
She has the right to choose her own defender—
even herself.
Now, just hold on.
Neither of you are thinking straight right now.
They are following their instincts
and I suggest we allow them to do so.
You mean, let them fight?
It is logical.
Both must resolve their Pon farr before it kills them.
We cannot wait to hear from Voyager
They'll tear each other to pieces!
The risk of injury seems preferable
to the certainty of dying from a chemical imbalance.
Commander, I see no alternative but to follow Vulcan tradition.
All right.
Begin.
It's over, isn't it?
The blood fever has been purged.
They will both recover.
Captain's Log, Stardate 50541.6.
We're following through with Chakotay's offer
to help the Sakari improve their camouflage,
and they've agreed to supply us
with a generous quantity of gallicite.
Deck 2.
So, looks like you're feeling better.
Hmm.
You back on duty?
- Yes. - Hmm.
Yes, I'm fine. Thanks.
The refit is going well.
We should have new warp coils by the end of the week.
Oh, good.
Glad to hear it.
Computer, halt turbolift.
Look, this is ridiculous.
We are going to be together on this ship for a long time.
You're right.
We have to pretend that the whole mission didn't happen.
But something did happen, B'Elanna.
Look, Tom, I really appreciate what you did—
what you were willing to do for me—
but as far as I'm concerned, I was under the influence
of some weird Vulcan chemical imbalance
and whatever I did, whatever I said— it wasn't me.
Yeah, I know.
You're afraid that your big, scary Klingon side
might have been showing.
Well, I saw it up close
and you know, it wasn't so terrible.
In fact, I wouldn't mind seeing it again someday.
Computer... resume.
Careful what you wish for, Lieutenant.
Your call sounded urgent.
I think there's something you should see, Captain.
We found this as we were clearing away the ruins.
Undoubtedly, one of the invaders who destroyed this colony.
The Borg.