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Gravity

VULCAN MASTER: The Kol-Ut-Shan... a cornerstone of our beliefs.

Infinite diversity in infinite combinations.

I know all about Vulcan philosophies.

Why have you come here?

I was sent against my will.

Then I suggest you leave.

I'm not a prisoner?

Only of your emotions, or so I have been told.

My emotions free me.

I see.

It's regrettable that I won't be able to teach you.

Where should I go?

Are you seeking my counsel?

I...can't return home.

My father has banished me.

Your school?

They revoked my seat.

Why?

Because I refuse to deny myself passion, the way you and men like my father do.

You reject logic?

If I was meant to deny feelings, why was I born with them?

Where's the logic in that?

Hidden for you to find... or in plain sight for you to ignore.

You speak in riddles because the truth frightens you.

You're right.

It does frighten me.

You are surprised to hear a Vulcan master admit to having emotions?

Yes.

Emotions can be a powerful tool.

To deny their existence is illogical, but you must learn to control them.

Why?

Do you wish to be taught?

I would question everything you say.

You would not be a worthy pupil otherwise.

Let us begin.

Sit down, Tuvok.

( mellow theme plays )

( soft, whirring beeps )

( grunting )

( rumbling )

( distant crash )

Tun beveg!

PARIS: Uh, sorry?

Senn...nebah senn?

Either the universal translator's offline, or I hit my head harder than I thought.

Ruck.

All right.

Take it easy.

All right, all right.

Take it easy.

Fitah!

This?

Listen, I really need this.

Fitah! Ud neetot!

Okay, okay.

( sighs )

First day in town and I've already been mugged.

Ah.

( grunts )

( yells )

( yells, groans )

( grunting )

( groans )

I'm Commander Tuvok of the Starship Voyager.

Tuvok.

Tuvok.

Yes.

And you?

Noss. Noss.

We'll go to my vessel.

I see you've already been there.

Mayday, Mayday.

Paris to Voyager. Respond.

Aw, come on.

( clattering )

Her name is Noss.

She was attacked by two humanoid males.

You sure she didn't attack them?

They were attempting to rob her.

Seems to be a local pastime.

She requires medical attention.

PARIS: I'd love to help, but somebody stole our medkits.

Food.

What's the status of the shuttle?

Fractures throughout the hull, environmental systems down, impulse engines are beyond repair.

Told you we should have brought the Delta Flyer.

Communications appear to be functional.

Won't do us any good.

Every time I transmit a signal, it gets bounced back by the distortion field that pulled us down here.

It looks like we fell into some kind of gravity well.

As far as I can tell, this planet is a part of an entire solar system that is stuck in a pocket of subspace.

Fascinating.

( scoffs ) Yeah.

Well, scientific interest aside,

I don't see any easy way out of here.

TUVOK: No doubt Voyager has begun a rescue effort.

The Doctor?

His mobile emitter was damaged during the crash.

With a little luck, I might be able to repair it and bring him back online.

TUVOK: Make it your top priority.

Gren, gren.

What is it?

Thirteen humanoids approaching, the same species that attacked her.

Gather as many supplies as you can carry.

We're leaving.

You really think it's smart to abandon the shuttle?

Noss appears to have survived here for some time.

It's logical to assume she has access to a more secure shelter.

Nemmok. Eilen.

Eilen.

Whatever you say.

Eid kahn.

Doesn't look like this bird's gonna fly either.

Minimal power and life support, but the ship is protected by a force field.

That explains how she's been able to survive here.

Anything resembling an engine?

I'm detecting engine debris... two kilometers away.

It is of the same configuration as this vessel.

Great.

We've got two unusable ships, and the only way Voyager is going to detect our distress call is if they crash land right on top of us.

Progress?

The optronic relays took heavy damage.

I'm bypassing the primary circuits.

Come on, Doc.

I know you're in there.

I'm guessing we hit a snag.

An accurate assumption.

Rev din ud?

Ud rev?

Tun sang.

Ton rev ud tim seid.

You speak her language?

A universal translator was written into my program.

Ask her how long she's been here, if she knows a way to get back through that sinkhole.

Din yee ton ud lurka?

Pah din nefta menruk?

Lurka heen.

Zin ik lurka...

ud ruck totta.

Mah'ees bin ruck ayah.

What'd she say?

She said she's been here 14 seasons, and in that time, she's seen many ships come down, but she's never seen one go back up again.

( soft, whirring beeps )

( grunting )

Come back, you little bloodsucker.

( laughing )

I don't know what's worse, catching them or eating them.

No poison.

Well, they may not be poisonous, but they give me the creeps.

Maybe I should have left the hunting to you and Tuvok.

Let me.

( yells )

Looks delicious.

Shut down my program?

Why?

Our resources are severely limited.

We may need your mobile emitter as a source of power.

I'm a Doctor, not a battery.

Until we're rescued, or you're needed for an emergency,

I must insist that you remain offline.

Make way for the mighty hunters.

If Mr. Paris' hunting ability is any indication, maybe we should take him offline.

Thanks for the vote of confidence, Doc.

The hunt was good.

Impressive.

Voyager has 15 decks, a crew of 152, warp and impulse engines.

I want to see.

Someday, perhaps.

Tell me about you there.

I am the Chief Tactical Officer.

What else?

Can you be more specific?

Your duties, uh...

Where you sleep? What you eat?

Music?

Friends?

Why is any of that relevant?

Because it is you.

When I first met her, she wouldn't even look at me, but she warmed up after, oh...three years.

The longest flirtation in Starfleet history.

( chuckling ): No kidding.

She sounds... fascinating.

I just hope I see her again.

You must really...

bot yah jouton.

Love her very much.

Yeah.

More spiders?

Oh no, thank you. Three's my limit.

I will assist you.

Well, I suppose it's time I shut down my program.

Good night, Doc.

She likes you.

She has been alone for many years.

She appreciates our company.

No. I mean... she likes you.

What are you implying?

Oh come on, Tuvok.

You may be cold, but you're not blind.

Need I remind you that I am married?

Your wife is 50,000 light-years away, in a different layer of space.

The chances of you ever seeing her again are practically nonexistent.

Excuse me.

What are you doing?

I'm recalibrating the distress beacon.

Listen, um... what I said in there... about your wife...

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.

I have no feelings for you to hurt.

I think you do.

You work hard to bury them, but they're there.

And even if they're not... this is home now.

You might as well accept it, and try to find as much happiness as you can.

Listen, you have a chance to make a decent life for yourself here.

There is still a possibility that Voyager will rescue us.

You may see Lieutenant Torres again.

If I didn't know you better,

I'd say you were trying to cheer me up, Tuvok.

Is there a point to your pessimism?

It's not pessimism.

It's practicality.

You of all people should understand that.

Look, I've never met your wife, but if she's half as logical as you are,

I bet you she'd tell you the same thing.

Your attempt to play matchmaker is misguided.

I am not experiencing Pon farr.

What difference does it make?

You obviously care about Noss.

If you won't admit it to me, at least admit it to yourself.

I respect her ability to survive.

It's more than that.

I've seen the way you look at her.

What way is that?

Like someone who wishes he wasn't Vulcan.

I'm sorry I was born Vulcan.

B'Elak paar.

Self pity.

Are you cataloging my emotions?

What is the source of your self pity?

Isn't it obvious?

If I weren't Vulcan, I wouldn't be here now, going through this pointless ritual.

You see only what is in front of you.

You must learn to see behind you.

Another riddle.

I have no eyes to see behind me.

You have the eyes of memory, the knowledge of why you are here, and why you have lost control.

Tell me your story.

My father's already explained it.

I wish to hear it from you.

Her name is Jara.

Her father's a Terrelian diplomat.

She's been granted a seat at my school.

And you have developed... an emotional attraction toward her.

Yes.

You love her.

Yes.

Does she love you?

No. She's...

Jara...doesn't return my feelings.

What if I were to say that I received a letter from your father telling me that Jara is in love with one of your fellow students?

That's a lie!

Who is it?

Jealousy?

I'll challenge him.

That would be illogical, because I have received no such letter.

You're trying to trick me.

No. I'm trying to help you to understand.

Shon-ha'lock, love, is the most dangerous emotion of all.

It produces many other emotions, jealousy, shame, rage, grief.

You must learn to suppress them all.

Otherwise, they will consume you.

I can sense emotions building inside you, like a gathering storm.

If we begin now, we may be able to stop them.

JANEWAY: Captain's Log, supplemental.

It's been over an hour

since the shuttle disappeared from sensors.

I'm not detecting any debris.

Maybe the shuttle was tractored or transported somewhere.

Scan the region.

Look for plasma emissions or EM displacements, anything that might indicate another ship.

Nothing out of the ordinary, hydrogen, helium, space dust.

There has to be something out there.

Shuttles don't just vanish into thin air.

It's a gravimetric shear.

Source?

Unknown.

Red Alert.

Helm, full ahead.

We're caught in some kind of subspace sinkhole.

It's pulling us in.

The gravimetric shear's increasing.

Go to warp.

I can't establish a stable field.

Then we need more power to the impulse engines.

That won't be enough.

We've got to find a way to counter the gravitational pull.

B'Elanna, vent three million isodynes of plasma from the nacelles. Chakotay, reverse shield polarity.

( computer beeping )

We're clear.

Move us away. Stand down, Red Alert. Secure all stations.

I'd say we have a pretty good idea what happened to that shuttle.

SEVEN: The anomaly is approximately 600 meters in diameter.

It's out of phase with normal space.

Even after recalibrating the sensors, it barely registers.

SEVEN: The distortion circumscribes a subspace zone that includes a Type-G sun and three planets.

Any sign of the shuttle?

No.

I'd say it's time to break out the multispatial probe.

Agreed.

What the hell is that?

A vessel approaching off the port bow.

They've locked on a tractor beam.

KIM: Captain to the Bridge.

I'm only going to say this one more time.

Disengage your tractor beam, Sir.

You were in danger of being pulled into the distortion.

You should show a little gratitude.

We appreciate your help, but we didn't ask for--

Captain, this is Mr. Yost.

Supervisor Yost, Renovation Team Nova.

Captain Janeway of the Starship Voyager.

Until tomorrow, I suggest you stay

at least two million kilometers from the distortion.

What happens tomorrow?

The rift will be closed by then.

Some of our crew are trapped inside.

I am sorry.

We have lost 11 ships to the distortion over the last year.

It must be sealed.

What about your people?

Even if there were survivors,

there's no way to rescue them.

The best we can do

is to prevent others from being trapped.

We can't abandon our crew.

If you could delay your mission--

My orders are to seal the rift by this time tomorrow.

If you want to attempt a rescue between now and then,

the risk is yours to take... but I wouldn't advise it.

Launch the probe. Aye, Captain.

Work with B'Elanna and Seven to enhance the sensors.

Do whatever you can to find Tom and Tuvok.

I'll look for a way to counter those gravitational forces.

( door chimes )

Come in.

I've been brushing up on sinkholes, quantum singularities.

Any luck?

All the data leads me to the same conclusion.

They're mono-directional phenomena, what goes in doesn't come out.

Well, if it's any consolation, something's coming out of that anomaly.

What is it?

Telemetry from our probe.

We've located the shuttle's distress beacon on a Class-D planet.

Vulcan, human, alien life signs.

At least we know they're alive. Keep reading.

There's astronomical data here covering a three-month period.

How is that possible?

There seems to be some sort of temporal differential.

How big a differential?

It's difficult to say, but every hour that passes for us, could mean weeks, even months for Tom and Tuvok.

Months trying to survive in a Class-D environment?

And more than likely, they've assumed that we left them behind long ago.

Ready for the bad news? You're kidding.

The gravitational stress is increasing.

Seven believes the sinkhole is on the verge of collapse.

When it does, everything inside will be crushed.

( door opens )

Noss!

Medical tricorder.

We were ambushed.

Give me 20 milligrams of inaprovaline.

They got away with a pair of resonator coils that we found.

Three fractured ribs, subdural hematoma, internal bleeding.

Will he live?

Vulcans are very resilient. He'll be fine.

How long has it been since I was last activated?

Almost two months. Two months?

So...what's new?

Oh, same old thing, fighting off scavengers, hunting spiders...

No word from Voyager?

They're probably 300 light-years closer to home by now.

I think I should remain online until Mr. Tuvok is fully recovered.

It's good to have you back, Doc.

Rest.

How long was I unconscious?

Too many hours.

Mr. Paris?

He'll be fine.

( sighs )

I was afraid.

It is good to see your eyes.

Don't.

I only want... to show you how I feel.

You...you-you feel nothing for me?

I told you,

I don't experience emotion.

I have developed an appreciation and respect for you, nothing more.

Nothing?

I am sorry.

I cannot return your affection.

You cannot... or you will not?

A minor distinction.

Logic!

I hate logic!

Your emotions will only exacerbate the situation.

Shevrot kat!

Insulting me will not help.

Derot oraht!

We can use the multispatial probe as a transporter relay.

It'll take a little time to reconfigure the targeting scanners, but with a little luck, it should work.

Any reason we can't use the same relay to send a com signal?

I don't see why not.

Good. Let them know that help is on the way.

KIM: Captain to the Bridge.

They've started ahead of schedule.

Hail them.

YOST: Yes?

It was my understanding you wouldn't begin for another six hours.

We're ready now.

Well, we're not.

We need at least another two hours to make a rescue attempt. I'm sorry.

How long until they seal the rift?

Approximately 30 minutes.

Then that's all we've got.

Tuvok?

Hey!

I am meditating, Mr. Paris.

I don't care.

I trust there is an urgent reason for your lack of courtesy.

You're damn right there is.

What did you say to her?

Our conversation was private.

Well whatever you said, she's talking about leaving, going off by herself, because it's too painful to be around you.

She is under the influence of unfettered emotions.

Well, maybe you're able to "fetter" your emotions, but the rest of us don't have that luxury.

She is a living, breathing woman, who, for reasons that I can't begin to fathom, has fallen in love with you.

Now, if you're incapable of returning her feelings, at least show her some compassion.

Try to let her down easy.

There is no easy way to recover from infatuation.

Oh, really?

And what do you know about infatuation?

More than you might imagine.

Enlighten me.

I have no intention of continuing this conversation.

Come on, Tuvok.

Come on!

It's just you, me and the rocks.

When I was a young man...

I experienced an emotional attraction toward a woman.

It nearly destroyed me.

Your wife?

No.

Her name was Jara, a Terrelian female.

I would have violated every tenet of Vulcan philosophy simply to be near her.

She must have really been something.

I lost all sense of who I was.

The emotional attraction I felt for her became a kind of...insanity.

Tuvok, everyone feels a little insane when they fall in love... but it's worth the risk.

For you, perhaps, but I am Vulcan.

My natural emotions are erratic, volatile.

If I don't control them, they will control me.

What ever happened to Jara?

I chose to leave her.

I spent several months in isolation, studying with a Vulcan master.

I learned to suppress my emotions.

Too bad.

( distant rumbling )

TUVOK: Gravimetric distortions.

PARIS: What's causing them?

Unknown.

No response to our hails, Captain.

At this rate, their anti-graviton beam will seal the distortion in approximately 29 minutes.

Transporter status?

I've completed the reconfiguration, but we're only going to be able to relay one transporter beam through the probe.

We'll have to get Tom and Tuvok within a two-meter radius of their distress beacon.

Harry?

I've opened a channel.

Voyager to away team.

( rapid beeping )

What is it?

The distress beacon.

We're receiving a transmission.

Can you route it through your com system?

PARIS: If I'm right, this message was sent almost nine hours ago on a very slow carrier wave.

Can you speed it up?

I'll try.

( slowly speeding up): JANEWAY: Voyager to away team.

( normal speed ): A transporter beam with a radius of two meters

will activate at the coordinates

of your distress beacon in exactly 30 minutes.

DOCTOR: Thirty minutes?

That would have been over eight hours ago.

Shh. There's more.

JANEWAY: Be advised we've detected a temporal differential

between our two positions.

According to our calculations, the differential ratio

is .4744 seconds per minute.

Repeat, Voyager to away team.

A transporter beam with a radius of two meters--

According to that formula, 30 minutes would translate to two days, 11 hours and 47 seconds.

Well, we've waited this long.

Tom.

The force field is holding.

( explosion )

Not for long if they keep pelting us with these photon grenades.

( explosion )

How are we supposed to hold them off for two more days?

The rift will be sealed in less than two minutes.

Move us into range.

Stand by for transport.

Yes, ma'am.

The force field 's losing power.

Time?

We still have another hour before transport.

Where are you going?

To repair the field generator.

I will accompany you.

No. You stay.

Prepare for the attack.

You can't go alone.

Risking two lives... would be illogical.

We're in transporter range.

Link up with the probe, and relay the signal.

TORRES: Stand by.

I've got a lock on their beacon.

They're supposed to be ready for transport in 32 seconds.

Let's hope they don't stand us up.

Begin 20 second countdown on my mark.

Now.

We've got less than ten minutes to transport.

Where the hell is Noss?

I'll find her.

( both grunting )

( yells )

Fifteen seconds.

Fourteen...

Thirteen...

( yells )

( grunting, panting )

Tuvok...

I could not leave you behind.

Nine...

Eight...

Seven...

Now, Mr. Paris!

( grunting )

PARIS: Hurry.

Four...

Three...

Two...

Initialize transport sequence.

Energize.

We've got them.

KIM: Welcome back.

Who...?

A friend.

TUVOK: Commander Tuvok, Personal Log, Stardate 52438.9.

We are en route to Noss' home world.

As I prepare to say goodbye, I find myself experiencing

a certain discomfort.

Tuvok.

Weird day.

Problems?

I've spent the last two months wondering if I'd ever see B'Elanna again.

As far as she's concerned, it's only been two days.

I guess I expected her to have missed me too.

Were it not for the time differential,

I'm sure she would've experienced a deep sense of loss.

You know something?

I always thought that beneath that cold Vulcan exterior lay a...even colder Vulcan interior, but now, I'm convinced you're a hopeless romantic.

There is no need to insult me, Mr. Paris.

NEELIX: Oh, here they are now.

I was just getting Noss' recipe for sautéed spiders.

She told me how much you enjoyed them.

Let's just say it's an acquired taste.

Goodbye, Tom.

Thank you.

Come on, Neelix.

Oh. Of course.

Crewman.

I'm sorry.

For what?

I know how difficult this was for you... for us.

I just wish things had been different.

As do I.

( sighs )

I understand.

Thank you.

Live long and prosper, Noss.

( voice cracking ): You too.

( com beeping )

( sad theme playing )

VULCAN MASTER: Infinite diversity...

In infinite combinations.

Your training is now complete.

You have done well.

Thank you.

You are now prepared to return to the world.

Grief, anger, fear and especially love, will never threaten you again.

I am...grateful.

( title theme plays )