Home > Star Trek: Voyager

One

( mellow theme playing )

( people chattering indistinctly )

Lieutenant, Ensign.

Hey, Seven.

Have some dinner.

The potato salad isn't half bad.

I do not require nutrition at this time.

I would like to talk with you.

Okay.

Ensign Kim, what is your place of origin?

You mean where am I from?

Well, I was born in South Carolina--

Lieutenant Torres, explain why you became a member of the Maquis.

Um, it was through Chakotay.

I met him... Well, actually, he saved my life--

List the sports you play.

I've dabbled in quite a few... tennis, parrises squares... but my favorite is volleyball. It's--

SEVEN: Specify the foods you find enjoyable.

Seven, what is this?

Describe the nature of your sexual relationship with Lieutenant Paris.

Okay, that's it.

Computer, freeze program.

Would you care to explain what you're doing?

I'm doing exactly what you instructed me to do.

I hardly think so.

I created this program to help you become more comfortable in social situations, not to practice alienating people.

You made recommendations about how to carry on a conversation.

That's true. You said it's helpful if people feel you're interested in them.

Correct. And that drawing them out by asking them about themselves is one way to demonstrate that interest.

That doesn't mean subjecting them to an interrogation.

You have to let them answer.

Listen to what they're saying.

Ask another question on the same subject.

Take your time.

Shall we try again?

I believe I am overdue for my weekly medical maintenance.

We should go.

Seven, you've never volunteered for a checkup before.

It is preferable to remaining here.

( dramatic theme playing )

What have we got here?

Looks like a Mutara-class nebula with a few trace constituents that aren't in our database, but they're showing up in minute quantities.

The nebula is vast, Captain.

It extends beyond the reach of our sensors.

Huh. Then I guess we won't try to go around it.

Tom, take us in at one-half impulse.

Yes, ma'am.

I'm detecting a slight radioactive field.

It's... ( gasping )

Harry?

Nothing. Uh... it's just a headache coming on. ( winces )

Maybe you should go to Sickbay.

Yeah, maybe so. ( grunts )

Captain!

( groans )

( moans )

( groaning )

Oh, God!

( both groaning )

Oh...

( moans )

( triumphant theme playing )

( gasping )

Tom, turn us around.

Get us out of here.

( groaning )

Janeway to Sickbay.

DOCTOR: Yes, Captain. We need help.

What happened? I'm being inundated with calls!

JANEWAY: Hurry! Seven, go to the Bridge.

Use the dermal regenerator to treat the burns.

( gasping )

( groaning )

( moaning )

( beeping )

Course laid in.

( moaning )

( panting )

We've cleared the nebula.

( moans )

( sighs )

All stop.

He's dead.

( sighs )

The nebula extends for at least 110 light-years, possibly more.

JANEWAY: At the least it would take us well over a month to get through it and more than a year to get around it.

The crew was unable to tolerate the nebula for even a few minutes.

They certainly could not survive a month.

We've come 15,000 light-years.

We haven't been stopped by temporal anomalies, warp-core breaches or hostile aliens, and I am damned if I'm going to be stopped by a nebula.

I'll be in Sickbay.

I've analyzed a sample of the gases from the nebula.

I think the damage came from subnucleonic radiation.

Even the briefest exposure is devastating to organic tissue.

Can you give us any protection against the effects?

Yes. Stasis chambers.

Independent life support for each unit.

Are you suggesting... that the entire crew be put in suspended animation?

Yes.

I, of course, would stay on line in order to monitor everyone.

Well, this is a drastic step, doctor.

Are there any other options?

Adjusting the shields, inoculations?

I assure you, I've considered all possibilities.

This is the only way.

There's more to getting through the nebula than monitoring the crew.

Who would regulate ship systems, make course adjustments?

I think I've demonstrated that I have a command of the rudimentary aspects of piloting.

Of course you have, and I know that you could do it, but you'll need backup.

We have no idea what effect the nebula radiation might have on your holo-matrix.

What if you went off-line?

There was only one crew member besides myself that seemed unaffected by the nebula.

JANEWAY: I want you to understand the seriousness of this responsibility.

The lives of the entire crew will be on your shoulders.

You doubt my ability to fulfill this task.

Ordinarily, not at all, but this is an unusual situation.

After being in the collective...

...it wasn't easy for you to adjust to a ship with only 150 people on it, was it, Seven?

How would you feel with only the doctor for company?

I will adapt.

Most humans don't react particularly well to long periods of isolation.

Borg drones have even more difficulty.

As you pointed out, I am neither human nor Borg.

I can do this, Captain.

All right.

I'll work with my senior staff to draw up a list of duties, but let me make it clear.

The doctor will be in command.

You will follow his instructions just as you would follow mine.

Follow the orders of a hologram.

He's our Chief Medical Officer, and he is thoroughly grounded in Starfleet protocols.

You will report to him.

I understand.

( dramatic theme playing )

The doctor's preparing the stasis units now.

They should be ready by 1700 hours.

And... how long will this be for?

We don't know for certain. At least a month, maybe longer if the nebula is larger than we estimate.

I've never been in long-term stasis.

Are there any side effects?

The doctor assures me it'll be just like taking a nap.

We'll go into the units, our cardiopulmonary systems will be slowed, neural activity suspended, and we'll wake up feeling as though we'd had a good night's sleep.

There are things that can go wrong.

At least, that's what I've read.

JANEWAY: We will be carefully monitored by Seven and the doctor, who will check our vital signs four times a day and take care of any other problems.

( nervous laugh )

I assume that we've explored all the alternatives.

I think we're all feeling uneasy about this, and I'd be lying if I said I don't have concerns myself, and I think it's about loss of control.

We always feel better if we think we're in charge of our own circumstances.

In stasis, we're giving up that control, and no Starfleet officer likes to do that.

But crews have been in stasis much longer than a month.

I think we can handle this.

All right?

You're free until 1700 hours.

I'll make a shipwide announcement when the doctor's ready. Dismissed.

( door opens )

Something else?

( door closes )

I want you to tell me that this isn't a mistake.

Your turn to get reassurance?

Maybe.

But my concern isn't about going into stasis.

It's about who you're leaving in charge.

You're worried about Seven.

Maybe you need to step outside yourself for a minute.

Look at the fact that here's someone who's butted horns with you from the moment she came on board... who disregards authority and actively disobeys orders when she doesn't agree with them.

And this is the person I'm giving responsibility for the lives of this entire crew.

I suppose you want me to tell you I'm not crazy.

In a nutshell.

( sighs )

I know your bond with Seven is unique, different from everyone else's.

From the beginning, you've seen things in her that no one else could.

But maybe you could help me understand some of those things. I don't know if I can.

It's just instinct.

There's something inside me that says she can be redeemed.

In spite of her insolent attitude,

I honestly believe she wants to do well by us.

( sighs )

That's good enough for me.

See you at 1700 hours.

( dramatic theme playing )

( door opens, closes )

If I have to take a nap for a month,

I really would rather do it in my quarters.

Everyone's being relocated here to Deck 14, so we can monitor you more easily.

Hop in.

Come on, Tom. Sleepy time.

What if we... had to get out in a hurry?

You can unlock the unit from inside, Tom.

DOCTOR: Do I detect a hint of claustrophobia, Lieutenant?

[EXHALES]

Why do they have to design these things like coffins?

Should we replicate you a teddy bear?

Sleep tight.

( keypad beeping )

( whooshing )

Have no worries, Captain.

You'll go to sleep, and the next thing you know,

I'll be standing over you, telling you we're through the nebula.

I'm leaving this ship in good hands.

I have every confidence in both of you.

See you in a month.

( dramatic theme playing )

( sighs )

( keypad beeping ) ( whooshing )

Well, it's just the two of us now.

SEVEN: Personal Log, Seven of Nine, Stardate 51929.3.

This is the tenth day

of our journey through the Mutara nebula.

I have created an efficient daily routine.

Nutritional supplement fourteen-beta-seven.

( beeping )

( tranquil theme playing )

( sighs )

( consoles beeping )

( door opens )

( console beeping )

Computer, adjust heading by .347 degrees starboard.

COMPUTER: Course adjusted.

Seven of Nine to the doctor.

Go ahead.

Lieutenant Paris has left his stasis unit and is unconscious.

DOCTOR: I'll be right there.

Apparently, he's more claustrophobic than I thought.

But he doesn't seem to have suffered any ill effects.

Is this likely to happen again?

It's not unheard of for people to come out of stasis and start wandering.

Leave it to Mr. Paris to be just as much trouble now as when he's awake.

( beeping ) You knew this might happen.

Why complain about it?

If you had even the slightest sense of humor, you'd realize I was making a small joke.

Very small.

Give me his vital signs.

Please.

Pulse, 42.

Body temperature 97.6.

Blood pressure 100 over 50.

Good.

I will continue on my rounds.

I think not.

We're paying a visit to the holodeck.

I have no time for frivolous pursuits.

This isn't frivolous. It's essential.

You've been getting more irritable and short-tempered with each passing day. So have you.

That's only because I'm having to put up with you.

I think you need a little brush-up course in how to get along with people.

There is no one here to get along with.

I'm here.

This isn't a suggestion, and it's not a request.

It's an order.

( sighs )

Try one, Commander.

Thank you, Neelix.

Captain?

Oh, thank you.

What have we here?

Delicious.

Join the party, Seven.

It's no fun to stand there by yourself.

I have no desire to have fun.

No? I'm attempting to recalibrate the warp field, in order to resist the nebula's radiation.

I understand you have some knowledge of warp field theory.

Perhaps you could assist me.

I'd be happy to give it a try.

Let's see... the subspace field matrix looks right...

Captain?

Excuse me a minute.

Perhaps you could help, as well.

We're attempting to find a stronger warp field calibration.

How interesting.

Maybe if we vary the EM stress parameters, the warp field dynamic would increase.

Excellent idea, Captain.

And if the warp coils were re-phased, it would increase power to the nacelles.

There is an additional problem.

We must compensate for a subspace induction drag on the engines.

Pardon me, Captain, Mr. Neelix.

Computer, freeze program.

You're completely missing the point of this exercise.

You're supposed to be mixing and mingling, not working on engineering problems.

You ordered me to participate in this program.

You did not specify topics of conversation.

You're splitting hairs.

You know very well what purpose this program is supposed to serve.

I find that it serves no purpose whatsoever.

Because you're being intentionally perverse.

Holodecks are a pointless endeavor, fulfilling some human need to fantasize.

I have no such need.

What you need is some editorial skill in your self-expression.

Between impulse and action, there is a realm of good taste begging for your acquaintance.

I find your self-expression ponderous.

And I can't put up with this for another month.

We can arrange to avoid one another.

I wish it were that simple.

Unfortunately, you have to report to me four times a day, to keep me informed about the crew.

We can minimize those reports.

COMPUTER: Warning. ( beeping )

Emergency procedures in effect.

Computer, what is the nature of the emergency?

COMPUTER: The antimatter storage tanks are failing.

( alarm sounding )

A cascade effect is in progress.

The warp field coils are compromised, primary deuterium tank is rupturing, and the plasma conduits are ready to breach.

This is awful.

We have to eject the antimatter tanks.

We've got to coordinate the effort.

You go to Engineering. I'll go to the Bridge.

Doctor to Seven.

Yes, doctor. It's worse than we thought.

Engineering is flooded with plasma. You'll never get in.

I believe I can survive long enough to eject the assembly.

DOCTOR: It's too late!

Sensors show plasma conduits rupturing on Decks Seven and Thirteen.

I can do it.

( alarm beeping )

Seven! There's been another plasma discharge in Engineering!

The hull is breaching. Get out!

( door opening )

DOCTOR: Seven, do you hear me?

It's all right, doctor.

False alarm.

( dramatic theme playing )

DOCTOR: Look here.

I think I've found the problem.

There are malfunctions in a number of neural gel packs.

As a result, false readings were fed to the sensors, which detected an emergency when there was none.

We must repair them.

They seem to be in sequence six-theta-nine.

We'll need replacement packs and a repair--

Repair kit.

( door opens )

These tubes certainly weren't designed with creature comfort in mind.

It seems to me the shipbuilders should've created a space in which one could walk upright.

But they did not.

It doesn't help to complain about it now.

I'll complain if I want to.

It's comforting.

We can access sequence six-theta-nine from this junction.

( beeping )

Odd.

I've never seen this kind of neural activity in the gel packs. In what sense?

The neurodes are discharging in random bursts.

I would imagine the nebular activity is causing it.

I'll take this back to Sickbay for further study.

I will reroute the command processors to bypass this series.

( sighs )

This journey certainly hasn't lacked excitement.

I can't complain about being bored.

Since you find it comforting, you'll undoubtedly find something else to complain about.

No doubt.

You really should try it.

What's happening?

My... My program is degrading. The mobile emitter?

I don't know. I have to get back to Sickbay.

Hurry!

I am hurrying.

If the mobile emitter goes off-line while I'm out of

Sickbay, my program may be irretrievable!

Don't panic. It's counterproductive.

That's easy for you to say. You're not facing cybernetic oblivion.

( dramatic theme playing )

Doctor...

If that happens again, I'm a goner.

( dramatic theme continues playing )

( sighs )

Home, sweet Sickbay.

I never thought I'd be so glad to see these walls. Give me the emitter.

The electro-optic modulator is damaged.

You're right. It's worthless.

There's no way I can risk using it now. I'm stuck here.

The nebula is having a deleterious effect on all the ship's technology.

And we still have weeks to go.

It's up to you to keep the ship running.

We can't afford to break down in this nebula.

( sighs )

I won't disappoint you.

( dramatic theme playing )

( beeping ) COMPUTER: 0600 hours.

Regeneration sequence complete.

( sighs )

Personal Log, Seven of Nine,

Stardate 51932.4.

The 29th day in the Mutara nebula.

I believe I am beginning to feel the effects of this prolonged isolation.

My dreams have been... disturbing...

...but I am determined to fulfill my responsibilities.

With the doctor confined to Sickbay,

I have taken on increasing duties.

The ship's systems are beginning to require constant maintenance in order to avert disaster.

This morning, I must purge the auxiliary plasma vents.

End log. ( beeping )

Computer, trim heading by .31 degrees port.

Computer, respond.

Computer, trim heading by .31 degrees port.

( beeping )

COMPUTER ( distorted ): Attempting to make correction.

Please stand by.

( beeping continues ) Attempting to make correction.

Unable to comply.

Manual override.

Computer, initiate a level-four diagnostic of your command processors.

COMPUTER ( distorted ): Diagnostic in progress.

Astrometrics.

COMPUTER: Diagnostic complete.

Analyze.

COMPUTER: Quantum failures are present in

33 percent of gel pack relays.

Reroute all functional relays through subprocessor chi-one-four.

COMPUTER ( no distortion ): Rerouting complete.

Relay failures bypassed.

Display Voyager's current position within the nebula.

How long to complete passage through the nebula?

COMPUTER: Six days, five hours.

Six days.

( beeping )

PARIS: Seven...

Help!

( ominous theme playing )

( door opens )

COMPUTER: Proximity alert.

Vessel approaching.

The vessel is hailing.

Open a channel.

COMPUTER: Channel open.

This is the Federation Starship Voyager.

State your identity.

ALIEN: I'm Trajis Lo-Tarik.

I'm in need of a microfusion chamber.

Would you consider a trade?

Why are you in this nebula?

TRAJIS: Trying to get through it, as I imagine you are.

Do you have liquid helium?

TRAJIS: You're fortunate.

I have an ample supply.

I'll beam you directly to our cargo bay.

Seven of Nine... that's an unusual name.

How did you get it?

It was my Borg designation.

Borg?

Never heard of them.

Are you alone on this ship?

No. The entire crew is here in stasis and our doctor is in Sickbay.

I'm both pilot and crew on my ship.

Fortunately, I happen to be resistant to the effects of the nebula.

What about your technology?

The radiation is causing damage to ours.

I've had to rebuild my engines twice already.

If you've been in the nebula for three weeks, you're doing well.

I am hopeful our propulsion system will remain operational for the next six days.

I'll admit I was surprised to find another ship headed toward me.

No one has ever managed to cross the nebula.

If it weren't necessary, we wouldn't be attempting it.

I'm here by choice.

I'm determined to be the first to get through.

I've tried five times before and failed, but this time I'm sure I'll make it.

I want to see what's on the other side.

It is nothing remarkable.

But I'll be the first of my kind to see it.

Tell me, how are you handling the loneliness?

What do you mean?

You know what I mean.

No matter what you say... you're all alone here.

The microfusion chamber you requested.

I've heard the drones can't stand being alone.

They're too used to the collective.

How could you know that?

It's true, isn't it?

You said you'd never heard of the Borg.

Don't be offended. I've no grudge with them.

You have what you asked for, now leave.

I thought we could keep each other company for awhile, maybe have something to eat.

No.

And if I want to stay longer?

You will not be accommodated.

( dramatic theme playing )

There's no need for this, you know.

I mean you no harm.

I think maybe you're a little paranoid.

That's what loneliness can do to you.

You'd be a lot better off to spend some time with me.

We could get to know each other.

Quiet.

PARIS: Seven!

Help me!

( gasping )

Seven!

( dramatic theme playing )

Seven of Nine to the doctor.

We have an intruder on board.

( beeping )

He must have a cloaking device.

Sensors show no alien life signs and no evidence of a ship.

I've been working on my mobile emitter.

I think I'm making progress, but I still can't leave Sickbay.

You'll have to try to track him down.

Arm yourself, and use extreme caution.

COMPUTER ( distorted): Warning.

Deuterium tank levels

are fluctuating beyond acceptable tolerances.

The computer sounds like it needs a stimulant.

It has been experiencing relay failures.

I have not been performing my maintenance duties.

Do what you have to, but keep an eye out for the alien.

We have to assume he's up to no good.

Seven... are you...frightened?

I am Borg.

( suspenseful theme playing )

( banging )

Who's there?

TRAJIS: Seven.

Help me.

Seven.

NEELIX: I'm dying, Seven.

Don't let me die.

JANEWAY ( whispering ): The lives of the crew are on your shoulders.

PARIS: Seven, help me.

( eerie moaning )

KIM: Help, Seven. I need help.

CHAKOTAY: We need you, Seven.

( crew voices clamoring )

NEELIX: I'm dying, Seven.

( clamoring continues )

( clamoring stops )

( beeping )

( comm beeps ) TRAJIS: Seven of Nine.

That's an unusual name.

How did you get it?

Don't want to answer me?

That's all right. I don't mind.

I know you're not yourself today.

But you might be interested in what I'm doing now.

I know your sensors can't detect me,

so if you want to know where I am, you'll have to ask.

Playing stubborn? That's a mistake.

It could lead to an unfortunate accident.

Just to prove I'm willing to give you a fair chance,

I'll ask you: What would happen if the structural integrity

around the warp coils collapsed?

You wouldn't have much time to keep them from rupturing.

( suspenseful theme playing )

TRAJIS: I couldn't bring myself to destroy your ship.

I hope you're not afraid of the dark.

Where are you?

TRAJIS: Finally. I'm glad you're responding.

It's going to be much more interesting

if we play this game together.

Your location.

TRAJIS: A long way from you, on the Bridge.

Command center of your ship, I believe.

I can do just about anything from here.

PARIS: Seven! Help!

( dramatic theme playing )

( gasps )

Seven to Trajis. Are you still there?

TRAJIS: Of course.

Do you think I'd leave now?

I am enjoying this game.

What's next?

TRAJIS: That's better. Well, let's just imagine

that one of the photon torpedoes was activated

but not ejected.

I would have to get to the torpedo bay quickly.

TRAJIS: And even then, you might be too late,

but, of course, you have to try.

Let's play another game.

Let's imagine that the oxygen on the Bridge has been depleted. TRAJIS: What?

What do you suppose the results might be?

( Trajis gasping )

Computer, seal the Bridge with a level-3 force field.

COMPUTER: Bridge sealed.

( exhales )

Seven of Nine to the doctor.

I'm here.

SEVEN: I have incapacitated the alien.

He will not trouble us again.

Good work. I have my mobile emitter back on line.

Where are you now? In Engineering.

DOCTOR: I'll be right there.

I have interesting news about the neural gel packs.

Acknowledged.

( door opening )

In your heart, you knew you'd see me again.

You can't defeat me.

You're too weak.

Don't come any closer.

You couldn't stand being alone, could you?

You felt vulnerable, afraid, because you know what you are.

Stop.

At first, you thought you could become human, but now you know that's impossible, don't you?

You're Borg.

That's what you're meant to be...one of many.

But your days of power are gone.

You're all alone now... weak, pathetic.

Don't come any closer. I'll kill you.

Seven?

Be careful, doctor! He's dangerous!

Who are you talking to?

Where did he go?

There's no one else here.

He was. He was right here.

Seven... you're hallucinating.

No, I saw him!

There was no one else in this room.

( sighs )

You mean I imagined him.

Yes.

I heard Lieutenant Paris call for help.

I saw him and the others.

Did I imagine them, as well?

I believe so.

When I studied the gel pack,

I discovered the radiation was producing a degradation in the synaptic relays.

I'm guessing there's been a similar effect on your Borg implants.

The radiation could be altering the neurotransmitter levels in your sensory nodes.

That would explain why you're hearing voices... seeing images.

But they seemed real.

Hallucinations usually are.

That's what makes them so frightening.

Once, when I was a drone...

I was separated from the collective for two hours.

I experienced panic... and apprehension.

I am feeling that way now.

I'll do everything I can to help you.

We'll get you to Sickbay.

An anti-psychotic may help, at least until I determine just what neural functions are being affected.

( explosion ) SEVEN: What was that?

COMPUTER: Warning.

( distorting, slowing ): Primary EPS conduits

are overloading.

I tied my mobile emitter into the EPS conduits.

Computer, access the EPS conduits.

COMPUTER: Unable to comply.

My program's going off-line.

No!

COMPUTER: Warning.

Primary EPS conduits overloading.

Secondary systems are failing.

Seven, you've got to hang on.

Repair the EPS conduits.

Everything depends on you now.

I cannot function alone.

You have to.

You're the only way we can survive.

No!

( dramatic theme playing )

Display Voyager's current position within the nebula.

KIM: It doesn't matter.

You won't make it.

Computer, how long before Voyager is out of the nebula?

COMPUTER ( distorted ): Seventeen hours, 11 minutes.

That's an eternity.

Go away.

You can try to shut me out, but it won't work.

COMPUTER: Warning.

Propulsion system failure in progress.

( eerie moaning and gasping )

BORG DRONE: Seven of Nine,

Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One.

You have left the collective.

It was a foolish decision.

Now you are alone.

You have lost the many.

You are only one. You have become human, weak, pathetic.

Humans do not have our strength.

They are imperfect.

Now you are imperfect as well.

No. You will not survive.

You cannot survive without the collective.

I will adapt. By becoming weaker, less perfect.

I will adapt as an individual.

One. One alone.

A Borg cannot be one.

I will become stronger.

A Borg cannot be one.

She will die as one... weak, detached, isolated.

One Borg cannot survive.

I am an individual.

I will survive alone.

No. You are weak.

You will die alone.

( sighs )

He's right.

You're in pain, Seven.

I can help you.

Bridge.

You don't have to beg me.

You don't even have to ask.

All you have to do is make a choice.

I can survive alone.

That's where you belong.

No.

End your pain.

Just walk through that door, and you'll never be alone again.

It's not real.

COLLECTIVE: Seven of Nine, resistance is futile.

Bridge!

( panting )

JANEWAY: Seven of Nine.

You look a little worse for wear.

KIM: I didn't know she was still on board.

I never wanted her here in the first place.

She won't be here long.

She can't survive alone.

PARIS: I'm taking bets on how long she'll last.

She'll fall apart before we leave the nebula.

And then everybody will die.

Well, blame me. I put my trust in her.

I should've known better.

COMPUTER ( distorted): Warning. Propulsion system failure in progress.

TUVOK: What is she doing now?

CHAKOTAY: She's trying to keep the engines on line.

Place your bets. Anybody think she can do it?

I'll lay odds she can't.

Computer, how long until the ship is out of the nebula?

COMPUTER: Forty-one minutes.

Too long. She won't make it.

That's an eternity.

Computer, reroute available power from weapons, sensors and environmental controls to the engines.

COMPUTER: Warning. Propulsion system failure in progress.

Reroute all available power to the engines.

COMPUTER: Propulsion systems have failed.

All engines are off-line.

KIM: She's got herself a real problem now.

CHAKOTAY: I'll say.

She's taken power from every available system, and it's still not enough.

If she fails to get the ship moving, everyone on board will die.

PARIS: What do you think she'll do?

I know. She's thinking if she could take power from the stasis units on Deck 14, she might be able to get those engines back on line.

But that would mean sacrificing some of the crew.

I don't think that would bother her too much.

What matters to Seven is efficiency.

Sacrificing a few to save many would be an efficient plan.

She's already killed millions, would a few more matter?

Computer, divert power from stasis units one through 10, and reroute to the propulsion systems.

COMPUTER ( distorted ): Engines are back on line.

Resume course.

KIM: Look at that. She did it!

But those people she disconnected are going to die.

I win. I knew she didn't care about them.

( gasps )

Come to watch them die?

COMPUTER: Warning.

Power to stasis units has failed.

Computer, how long to complete passage through the nebula?

COMPUTER: Eleven minutes.

They won't last that long.

What do you do now, Seven?

It's all up to you.

Computer, cut life support to all decks and reroute available power to the stasis units.

That will keep them alive, but what about you?

No oxygen, no heat.

Goodbye, Seven.

( panting )

I am Seven of Nine.

I am alone... but I will adapt.

I will...

She's coming to.

DOCTOR: Not so fast.

Get your bearings first.

The crew?

We came through the nebula in fine shape, thanks to you.

You were the one we almost lost.

When the ship cleared the nebula, the doctor came back on line and found you unconscious.

He reinitiated life support and woke the crew.

He tells us you've had quite an adventure.

It was...

...interesting.

Well, when you're rested, I'd like to hear about it.

I'm proud of you, Seven.

You performed admirably.

I am glad I was able to help.

KIM: Neelix, this soup is great.

What is it?

It's my secret recipe.

I've never told anyone what's in it.

PARIS: Why does that make me nervous?

Oh, come on, Tom. Where's your sense of adventure?

PARIS: Not in my stomach.

Food and mystery don't go together.

I like to know what I'm eating.

Coward.

Lieutenants Paris and Torres, Ensign Kim.

Seven. I'm surprised to see you here.

May I join you?

Sure. Have a seat.

Have some soup.

It's actually edible.

I don't require nourishment at this time.

I... felt the need for companionship.

Well, after a month with only the doc for company,

I can understand it.

Yeah. Uh, what was that like, anyway?

Just the two of you?

The doctor was very helpful. I cannot fault him.

Well, we owe you one.

PARIS: Yeah.

Just think, we could've died in those coffins.

SEVEN: I suspect you would've found a way out before that, Lieutenant.

What do you mean?

Lieutenant Paris refused to stay confined.

On four separate occasions, the doctor and I had to put him back into his stasis unit.

Were you, um, locked in dark closets or something as a child?

I just don't like closed places.

I never have.

I don't know why.

Perhaps you dislike being alone.

( dramatic theme playing )

( triumphant theme playing )