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{Bridge.}
T'POL: Anything?
HOSHI {holding her little silver earpiece
thingy in her ear}: Nope. {a beat} Wait -- wait,
I think I've got something -- {All lean forward in anticipation.}
There's a lot of static -- interference --
T'POL: Helm, move us another three and a half
tetches to 005 mark 011.
CREWMAN SULU: Three and a half tetches, 005
mark 011, aye.
HOSHI: I've got it! {a beat} Mets over
the Braves, 4-3 in 12 innings! {All cheer.}
MALCOLM: I knew they could do it!
T'POL: Subway Series, here we come!
CREWMAN SULU: You realize the Mets stand no
chance against the Yankees.
MALCOLM: Five pounds says the Mets win it in
six.
CREWMAN SULU: You're on, Lieutenant.
HOSHI: I'm in. Oh, and the cell ship with Commander
Tucker and the Klingon are at 158 mark 3.
T'POL: Put me down too.
CREWMAN SULU: You're all going to be buying
me drinks when we get to Risa.
MALCOLM {chuckling}: We'll see.
CREWMAN SULU {grinning}: We certainly
will. {to T'POL} Should I adjust course to pick up
the cell ship, Subcommander?
T'POL: What? Oh yeah, sure, fine, whatever.
{to HOSHI} Do you think the Captain would mind if I
wore a Mets cap on the Bridge?
{Helix. ARCHER is creeping down a hallway,
crossbow at the ready. He ducks into a doorway as two Suliban
thugs hurry by. He peeks back out, looks both ways, and continues.}
DANIELS {wearing a tall white tocque and
an apron over a Starfleet uniform}: Don't...go down that
hall.
ARCHER: Deal with my going.
DANIELS: You shouldn't be putting yourself at
risk. The future depends on you.
ARCHER: I thought you weren't going to be in
this episode.
DANIELS: I'm on break.
ARCHER: Break on through to a state of attention.
Your roast is burning. {DANIELS looks startled, then punches
a few buttons on his temporal thingy and disappears. ARCHER
chuckles.} Cooks. Gets 'em every time.
{ARCHER continues along the hallway, checking
for Suliban. His scanner registers no life-signs. He sees
a door with another flashing neon sign reading "LOOK
IN HERE." Glancing in all directions, he opens the door
and looks in cautiously. It's the room where SILIK was talking
to FUTURE GUY, but there's no one there. ARCHER enters, looking
around.
A Suliban morphs out of the wall behind him
and stalks him. As the Suliban raises his gun, ARCHER brings
the crossbow back over his shoulder and shoots without looking.
The Suliban is speared and puddles.}
ARCHER: Your boys need to invest in shoes that
don't squeak.
SILIK {invisible}: Your boys should invest
in Kevlar.
ARCHER {trying to track SILIK's voice}:
Why? It's not like you can hit the broad side of a shuttlepod
with a can of paint.
SILIK: There's so much more going on than you
understand, Jon. May I call you Jon?
ARCHER: Just don't call me late for dinner.
SILIK {sounds as though he's moved behind
ARCHER}: I had Klaang restrained for a reason.
ARCHER {turning around, crossbow raised}:
I know. To keep him from getting to the Chancellor with Sarin's
message.
SILIK: To protect you.
ARCHER: Bored now. {fires several crossbow
bolts randomly. Three Suliban melt off the ceiling and into
view, becoming puddles as they hit the floor.}
SILIK: Don't you want to hear what I have to
say, mon capitane?
ARCHER: Only if it involves the words "I
surrender."
SILIK {jumping off the wall as he becomes
visible}: You should really give me a chance, Jon.
ARCHER {aiming crossbow at SILIK's chest}:
The only chance you had with me was back on whatever the hell
that planet was when I was unconscious.
SILIK {frowning}: Rigel?
ARCHER {rolling eyes}: Don't you
start with that!
SILIK {advancing a step}: I had to keep
you safe, Jon. If Klaang had gotten to you, it would have
been... very bad.
ARCHER: "Gotten to me" how?
{Bridge. The turbolift swishes open. TRIP
comes onto the Bridge looking disheveled, stumbling a little,
with his turtleneck pulled up very high.}
T'POL: Commander. What's your status?
TRIP: Jes' fine, Subcommander.
T'POL: Helm, take us out.
TRIP: B'lay that. {approaches T'POL slowly}
The Cap'n's still down there. We hafta go back for'im.
T'POL: We have to get Klaang to Qo'noS. If we
send another team for Captain Archer we risk getting everyone
killed.
TRIP: The Cap'n gave me an order.
T'POL: I am in command here.
TRIP {advancing, unblinking, pupils very
wide}: Listen, Alexander T'Haig, the Cap'n tole me ta
come back for 'im. {reaches for T'POL. She tries to step
away, but her boots are mag-locked. She staggers. He seizes
her arms and shakes her with each word.} And -- we're
-- goin' -- back.
MALCOLM: Commander Tucker! What's the matter
with you?
TRIP {not taking his eyes off T'POL}:
Nothin's wrong, Mister Reed. Ev'rythang's gonna be jes' fine.
{MALCOLM clenches his jaw, then raises his
pistol and fires at TRIP. CREWMAN SULU gasps. TRIP doesn't
even rock from the blow.}
ROCKY HORROR AUDIENCE: Shoulders! Of! Steel!
TRIP {squeezing T'POL more tightly and bending
her backwards a little}: Now, we're gonna turn this ship
around an' go back fer th' Cap'n. An' then you an' me, pretty,
we're spendin' some serious time in Dee-con.
{TRIP grins inhumanly wide, showing many
pointed teeth. He abruptly pulls T'POL close to bite her.
She gets her hands up barely in time.}
T'POL: Help!
{HOSHI flings her entire mug of tea at TRIP's
back and head. He lets T'POL go with an agonized scream and
falls to the deck, writhing. Smoke rises from where the tea
struck him. T'POL clomps away a few steps, wiping at her neck.}
CREWMAN SULU: What did you do? What's going
on?
HOSHI {holding up her mug}: Green tea
with eelbane in it. Watch.
{TRIP is whimpering, face in his hands. Several
small wormlike creatures wriggle out of his ear, smoldering,
and drop to the deck, where they melt into reddish blobs.}
T'POL: What are those?
HOSHI: Ceti Alpha VII demon gagh. I'm surprised
they're not in the Vulcan database.
MALCOLM: Demon gagh... of course.
HOSHI: They enter through the ear and wrap around
the victim's soul. Whoever raised the gagh just gives him
instructions.
MALCOLM: Complete lack of control over his own
actions.
T'POL But... how did you know?
MALCOLM: He never calls me "Mister
Reed." I should have realized what was going on at once.
Good job, Hoshi.
HOSHI: Thanks! It was pretty obvious. His accent
was really hokey and overdone.
CREWMAN SULU: What's eelbane?
HOSHI: Um, an ancient Japanese herb, used to
cast out demons and evil spirits and protect against possession.
Its mystical properties were discovered by Buddhist monks
around 547 B.C.E.
CREWMAN SULU: So you drink it all the time,
to keep yourself from being seized by an alien?
HOSHI: Oh no, I just like the minty flavor.
Keeps my breath fresh.
{The turbolift door swishes open. PHLOX enters
with some EMTs carrying a stretcher.}
PHLOX: Oh, they've all turned to mush! Couldn't
you have saved me one, Ensign?
HOSHI: Sorry, Doctor. Eelbane is kind of a blunt
instrument. {The EMTs load TRIP onto the stretcher.}
PHLOX {brightly}: Was the Captain infected
as well? Perhaps I can get some samples from him!
MALCOLM: Excuse me. Incoming! {The ship jolts.}
T'POL: He's, um, not on board.
PHLOX: Not on board? {The EMTs cart the stretcher
to the turbolift.}
T'POL {mumbling}: He's still on the core
of the Helix.
PHLOX: Well, go rescue him, Subcommander!
T'POL: Doctor?
PHLOX: He went back for you when you dropped
your iPod and busted your lips, as I recall.
T'POL {looking away}: Yeah, well, that
was different.
PHLOX {patiently}: Without the Captain,
the Chosen One, the demons from the future start the Klingon
Civil War, break through the dimensional rift on Planet Hellmouth,
take over this universe, and you {pokes her in the shoulder
a few times} don't get that big scene your agent is negotiating
for.
T'POL: If I don't get him, we don't have
to endure "A Night in Sickbay."
PHLOX: Hmm... {considers} That is a rather
compelling argument...
HOSHI {taking the little silver earpiece
thingy from her ear}: Sorry, Subcommander. I just checked
with Crewman Daniels. If we lose Captain Archer, "A Night
in Sickbay," will still be filmed, but Carrot Top will
be leading the series.
T'POL {whipping around}: Helm, turn us
about. Ensign, find Captain Archer's biosign on the Helix.
Lieutenant, work with Engineering to get the matter transporter
functioning.
PHLOX {airily as he heads for the turbolift}:
I'll keep you apprised of Commander Tucker's condition.
MALCOLM: Thank you, Doctor. Incoming! {The
ship jolts.}
{Helix. A now-visible SILIK and ARCHER are
sitting at a table, sharing a bottle of Shiraz, deep in conversation.}
SILIK:...so you see what I meant?
ARCHER: Oh, entirely. I can't believe I was
so stupid.
SILIK: Well, it happens to the best of us.
ARCHER: At least your contact from the future
is...
SILIK {nodding vigorously}: Yes. {they
share a nervous laugh} But the important thing is, Jon,
now we both know what's really going on.
ARCHER {meaningfully}: Yes. We do. {raises
his glass} This could be the beginning of a beautiful...
SILIK {raising his glass}: L'chayim.
{they clink glasses and drink} So now that we've gotten
that out of the way...
ARCHER: I hate to say this, but I should be
going.
SILIK: What do you mean? You've only just arrived!
ARCHER: I know, but my ship is going to come
looking for me.
SILIK {soothingly}: They have to get
Klaang to Qo'noS. We'll have plenty of time.
ARCHER {looking down and playing with the
water drops on the table}: I told Trip to come back for
me.
SILIK {looking down}: Oh. Well.
ARCHER: Well.
{ARCHER looks up, as does SILIK. Their eyes
meet for a long moment.}
{Bridge. Enterprise is soaring towards
what's left of the Helix. Cell ships blast Enterprise
with weapons fire. Enterprise is giving as good as
she gets, taking out cell ships one by one.}
MALCOLM: Incoming! {The ship jolts.}
But I got another two!
T'POL: Mister Sulu, can we dock?
CREWMAN SULU: Yes, but their dock isn't attached
to the Helix. The Captain uncoupled it.
MALCOLM: Incoming! {The ship jolts.}
T'POL {pressing button on the armrest}:
Engineering, we're going to Plan B. {No response.}
Engineering, report.
KELLY {over comm}: Um, Lieutenant Hess
had to, uh, she and Crewman Rostov went to console Porthos,
Subcommander. About the Captain being left behind and all.
MALCOLM: Incoming! {The ship jolts.}
T'POL: Never mind, Engineering. {punches
two buttons in a row} Transporter Room Two, lock onto
the Captain and energize.
{Transporter Room. The transporter shimmers.
ARCHER appears on the pad, crossbow and bolts at his feet,
arm outstretched to someone who's no longer there.}
T'POL {over comm}: Transporter Room,
do you have him?
O'BRIEN: Yes ma'am.
MALCOLM {over comm}: Incoming! {The
ship jolts.}
T'POL {over comm}: Captain, are you all
right?
{ARCHER walks to the console and presses
a button. His voice is raw.}
ARCHER: Yeah. I'm fine.
T'POL {over comm}: Did you get my headphones?
{ARCHER looks up at O'BRIEN. An idea is forming.}
ARCHER: Why, no, I didn't... I'll go back for
them. I'll just be a minute. {runs back to transporter
pad} Set the transporter to retrieve me in one minute.
Then go help out in Engineering. I'm sure they could use a
hand.
O'BRIEN: Understood, sir. {ARCHER dematerializes.}
{Qo'noS. Big-ass matte painting.
ARCHER, T'POL, MALCOLM, HOSHI, and a thoroughly
chastened TRIP are seated on a wooden bench, waiting outside
a tremendous pair of carved oaken doors with metal bands across
them. Four honor guards flank the doors, glaring like angry
statues. City sounds can be heard through the open windows.}
HOSHI: It's such a shame about Travis. He really
wanted to see this place.
MALCOLM: Still hasn't awakened yet?
ARCHER: Nope. Doctor Phlox said it could be
weeks. However, he finally had time to conduct an examination
of Travis's vocal chords.
MALCOLM: And?
ARCHER {leaning forward around T'POL, who
is reading a three-year-old Maxim}: Crushed. Like
eggs. Phlox said if he ever had been able to speak,
he never will again. {TRIP fidgets.}
HOSHI: Well, that's Stephen King-y kind of horrible.
{The door opens. A Klingon woman comes into
the vestibule. Her breasts pop out a full two inches from
her leather bustier.}
GRILKA: Humans! {They stand. T'POL remains
seated, ostentatiously reading and swinging her crossed leg.}
And Vulcan. {She puts down the magazine and stands.}
The Chancellor has received Klaang's message. There will
be no civil war. Planet Hellmouth has been blasted into pebbles
by the IDF. The p'taQ demons who tried to manipulate the Klingon
Empire will be hunted down like dogs, and their skulls will
adorn the Chancellor's bathroom.You are free to go. {She
turns to leave.}
ARCHER: Free to go? That's it?
GRILKA: What exactly were you expecting?
ARCHER: I don't know, something. I mean, we
stopped a war. We should at least have a meeting with a lot
of speeches and gushing expressions of gratitude.
GRILKA {looking him up and down}: Perhaps
you're right. My House's ranks are rather thin. Would you
like to become studs? You'll be rewarded handsomely.
ARCHER: You know, you're right. No thanks necessary.
{starts to back away; the crew follows him} I am the
Chosen One, after all. Just doing my job.
GRILKA: Are you sure? Maybe you could just spare
me the little one? {winks at MALCOLM} He looks tough.
MALCOLM {making a disgusted face}: Ew!
T'POL: I thought you humans were... explorers.
Searching out the new and the different?
MALCOLM: That's not the part I was objecting
to.
{They reach the outer hallway.}
TRIP: Wait -- was Klaang a bad guy or not?
HOSHI: Ask again in ten minutes and you'll get
another answer. The only absolute in the Jossverse is that
there are no absolutes.
TRIP: Ah'm just tryin' to get a handle on how
embarrassed Ah should be that he got the better of me.
MALCOLM: Very. You're a Starfleet officer. You
should be able to defend yourself.
ARCHER: Not at all, Trip! Klaang is built like
a linebacker and was possessed by gagh wraiths.
HOSHI. Q.E.D.
{Enterprise, ARCHER's quarters. The
doorbell rings. TRIP, MALCOLM, and T'POL enter without waiting
for a response.}
T'POL: Please do forgive me, Lieutenant. I had
no idea --
{She stops and stares in shock. TRIP and
MALCOLM look over to see ARCHER in bed, hastily putting out
a cigarette, SILIK's head pillowed on his chest.}
T'POL: Captain!
ARCHER: Not for anything, but I did warn you
about barging in.
MALCOLM: I do not like green eggs and ham. I
do not like them, Sam I am! {leaves}
ARCHER {to SILIK}: Mon petit chou, why
don't you go jump in the shower? I need to talk to my friends.
SILIK: Don't be long, angel. {They kiss,
lingeringly. SILIK morphs on the orange jumpsuit before getting
out of bed and heading for the bathroom. TRIP finds ARCHER's
thick pink terrycloth bathrobe and tosses it to him.}
ARCHER {putting it on}: Thanks.
T'POL: You had sex with the Suliban leader.
ARCHER {standing and tying his robe}:
T'Pol, things are so much more complicated than you realize.
He's different now --
T'POL {hissing}: He stole my headphones!
Right out of my pocket!
ARCHER: And he gave them back, didn't he? Besides,
he said he was sorry.
TRIP: Cap'n, you asked us here. Did you want
somethin', or were you just flauntin' the newest thing in
avocado facials?
ARCHER {flushing}: Starfleet said, and
I quote, "You didn't screw that up too badly. We'll let
you keep going."
TRIP: Ah'm giddy with pride. Can Ah put that
on a plaque and bolt it to the wall in Engineering?
ARCHER: You obviously didn't hear me, Trip.
Maybe you need to clean out your ears. {TRIP flushes
and looks down.} I said, we get to keep going.
T'POL: We're not returning to your planet?
ARCHER: Your people are coming to pick you up.
{a beat}...Unless you'd rather stay?
T'POL: Only if you ditch Mister Pizza With Broccoli.
ARCHER {sighing, crossing his arms, dragging
his toe on the carpet}: It would never work out anyway.
I'm a Captain, and he's...
TRIP: Shapeshifting traitorous scum with serious
complexion issues?
SILIK {singing in the shower}: 'Cause
I've got FAITH, of the HEART, going where my HEART will TAKE
me...
ARCHER: ...a Russell Watson groupie with lousy
pitch.
{Bridge. The entire main cast is present.
TRAVIS is sporting a large bandage on his head and another
on his throat, but is at the Helm.}
ARCHER: ...so with Starfleet's, um, blessing,
we're heading out. Our seven-year mission --
HOSHI: We hope.
ARCHER: To explore strange new worlds --
T'POL {checking her Palm Pilot}: That's
in two weeks.
ARCHER: To seek out new life --
TRIP {checking his day-timer}: That's
in three.
ARCHER: And new civilizations --
HOSHI: Scheduled for the end of July.
ARCHER: Hello, motormouths, can I get a sentence
finished? {All fall silent.} Thank you. Now, where
was I?
MALCOLM: To boldly go where no man -- where
no one -- has gone before.
ARCHER: Thank you. Maybe I should just go back
to my room and put on a water polo game. I'm obviously not
needed here.
TRIP: You were sayin' somethin' about sharin'
the wealth with an ensemble cast?
PHLOX: Of course, considering the vagaries of
current network television, a seven-year run is actually not
guaranteed.
ARCHER: To be --
MALCOLM: Or not to be --
TRIP: That is the question.
T'POL: Course heading, Captain?
ARCHER: Second star to the right, and straight
on 'til morning.
T'POL: It is already morning somewhere, Captain.
ARCHER: Shut up, T'Pol.
T'POL: Shutting up, sir.
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