Star Trek: Deep Space Nine (1993–1999): Season 4, Episode 9 - Our Man Bashir - full transcript

Sisko, O'Brien, Dax, Worf and Kira are coming back from a tiresome conference. Suddenly there's a power surge in the warp core of the runabout. The ship's been sabotaged and it explodes. Eddington is only barely able to beam them off, but the shock wave damages the transporters. Their patterns are still in the system though and by deleting station's memory Eddington is able to store them. Meanwhile doctor Bashir plays secret agent Bashir, Julian Bashir in a holosuite. He is surprised by the arrival of Garak and finally allows him to join. Then suddenly KGB agent Anastasia Komananov looks like Kira. While Bashir thinks it is another uninvited guest, the truth soon becomes clear. The five crew members have become an integral part of the holo adventure. With the safeties off Bashir has to do his utter best to keep everyone alive, while Eddington and Rom try to solve the problem.

A lot of kick for a '45 Dom.

Thank you, Mister...?



Julian Bashir.

Who's that?

An uninvited guest.

Excuse me.

Nice tux.
Thank you.


get out.

But, Doctor,
I've only just arrived.

Breaking into a holosuite
during someone's program

is not only rude,
it's illegal.

I should call Odo
and have you arrested.

What an extreme reaction
that would be.

You must be very embarrassed
by this program.

I'm not embarrassed.

I'm annoyed that you have
intruded into my privacy.

Oh, privacy, indeed.

I think it goes far deeper
than that, Doctor.

Ever since you've received
this new program,

you've spent virtually
every free hour

in the holosuite.

But you haven't told anyone
what the program is.

Am I supposed to?

No, no. No.

But you're such a--
forgive me--

a talkative man

and it's so unusual
for you to have secrets.

I must have picked up
that habit from you.

Now, if you will excuse me.

Is this fantasy of yours...

truly revealing
of your inner psyche?


Is that why you're
so protective?

Are you afraid
that I'll find out

some humiliating secrets
of the real Julian Bashir?

This is a fantasy.

I'm not hiding anything.

Well, if you've nothing to hide,
then why not let me stay?

-All right.

Now, I have to be at work
in two hours, and I'd like

to enjoy myself.

So keep quiet
and don't rain on my parade.


Never mind.

Don't worry, Doctor.

I can be very discreet.

You'll barely know I'm here.


But if I may make
one observation...

-I only want to point out

that your lovely companion
is leaving.


She seemed so interested

in your advances
just a moment ago.

I wonder what scared her away.

Oh, no.

I do apologize.

You must be incensed.

In fact,
if I were in your shoes

I'd grab a bottle of champagne
and shoot me.

I can see I'm going
to regret this.

Don't worry, Doctor.

We're going to have
a wonderful time.

After all, what could
possibly go wrong?

You live here?

That's right.

Decorate it yourself?

The decor is appropriate
for the period-- 1964.

How did you pronounce
the name of this city?


It's part of Hong Kong.

And the nightclub was in Paris

which, if I remember correctly

was on the other side
of the planet.

Mr. Bashir

I didn't expect
you home so soon.

I decided to leave Paris
a little early.

Allow me to introduce
my friend, Mr. Garak.

Garak, this is
my personal valet, Mona Luvsitt.

Pleased to make
your acquaintance.

Would you like to change
into something more comfortable?

Oh, that would be perfect.

Let's see if we can find
Mr. Garak something as well.

I'll see what I can do.

Would you like me
to put this away?


Care for a drink?

Not just yet.

Is she your valet,
or your personal assassin?


Mona's very capable.

She speaks seven languages

has degrees in biology,
chemistry, physics

can fly anything
from a jet to a helicopter

and makes an excellent martini.


Is there anything else
I can do for you?

I'll let you know.

I take it your character

is some kind
of rich dilettante

with a fascination
for women and weapons.

Actually, my character
is far more disreputable.

I'm a spy.

A spy?

And you live here?


I work for one
of the nation-states

of this era, Great Britain

which is battling
various other nations

in what is called
the "Cold War."

This apartment, my clothes,
weapons, even my valet

were provided to me
by my government.

I think I joined
the wrong intelligence service.

Orinoco to Deep Space 9.

This is Captain Sisko
requesting landing clearance.

Welcome back, Captain.

You're cleared to set down
on Landing Pad 3.

How was the conference?

Informative, but I've got

a ship full
of tired officers here.

I think we'll all be happy
to be in our own beds tonight.

I can imagine.

There's some message traffic
from Starfleet Command

for you to look at,
but nothing...

Captain, there's some kind
of power surge in the warp core.

Looks like a fluctuation
in the plasma coils.

We'd better take
the warp core off line.

I can't.

There's something wrong

with the command
control systems.

I'm completely locked out.

Magnetic interlocks are failing.

Warp core breach is imminent.

Eject the warp core.

The ejection system
isn't responding.

The ejection system is missing.

We've been sabotaged.

Ten seconds to warp core breach.

cut your impulse engines

and drop your deflectors.

We're going to try
to beam you out of there.


Cut main power.

I've locked on.

What happened?

Captain Sisko's runabout

exploded while I was trying
to beam them back.

Some of the energy traveled

back along the transporter
beam and blew up

the primary energizing coils.

Do we still have their patterns?

Yes, they're in the buffer.

But the patterns
will start to degrade

if not used immediately.

We need to store
the patterns somewhere.

No, this is more complicated

than just an ordinary
transporter pattern.

We're going to have to preserve
all the neural signatures

of everyone on that runabout.

Do you know how much memory
it would take

to save just one person's neural
signature, much less five?

I don't think
we have any choice.

I need to store all data

currently in the transporter
pattern buffer.

Where can I save it?

There is insufficient computer
memory to save the data.

Pattern buffer
is beginning to lose coherence.

The patterns will start
to degrade any second now.

Computer, what if we wiped all
computer memory in every system

on the station, and then
stored the patterns?

That procedure
has not been tested.

It cannot be predicted.

The buffer is depolarizing.

Computer, this is
a command priority override.

Wipe all computer memory

in order to save the patterns
from the buffer.

Authorization: Eddington-
zero-six-five-alpha enabled.

Executing command override.


The buffer's lost coherence.

The patterns are gone.

Did the computer
save them in time?

I think so,
but I'm not sure where.

Thank you, my dear.

Yes, this should do nicely.

Although I'm not too sure
about the collar.

It's perfect.


I'll have these cleaned
right away.

Thank you.

Isn't this a rather
ostentatious life for a spy?

It's all part of my cover.

I'm posing
as a wealthy jet-setter

so I have to act like one.


People of this era
used to travel in...


I must have fallen asleep.

Very funny.

Who else did you invite
along with you today?

Well, this wasn't my idea.


Colonel, actually.

Colonel Anastasia Komananov,

Oh, Julian, I never thought
I'd see you alive again.

Not after you fell out
of that dirigible over lceland.

I had a parachute

and there was a submarine there
waiting for me.

But how did you know about that?

Have you been downloading
my holosuite program?

Oh, Julian, you are not well.

Let's lie down.

I must say

Major Kira's certainly throwing
herself into the role, Doctor.

Nerys, please...

Who is this Major Nerys Kira?

Kira Nerys, actually.


this isn't Major Kira after all.

I'm beginning
to think you're right.

Computer, restore the image

of Colonel Komananov back
to its original parameters.

Unable to comply.

The character parameters of
Colonel Komananov are correct.

I'd say someone's

been tampering
with your program, Doctor.

Julian, we don't
have time for games.

There is much to talk about.

Excuse me.

Computer, freeze program.

Unable to comply.

Computer control
has been disrupted

due to station-wide emergency.


Bashir to Ops.
What's going on?

We've got our hands full
right now, Doctor. Stand by.

Odo, wait.

Doctor, where are you
and do you have access

to a working computer console?

I'm in Holosuite 3.

The program's running, but it
won't comply with my commands.

The program is still running?

I demand to know
who you are talking to.

Julian, tell me!

That sounded like Kira.

Not exactly.

Someone has replaced
one of the characters

with the image of Major Kira.

What's going on?

Stay where you are, Doctor.

Keep the program running
for now.

We'll get right back to you.

Julian, talk to me.

Tell me what is happening.

I'm not sure myself.

Ops to Bashir.

Doctor, whatever you do,
don't end that program.

Why not?

There's been
a transporter accident.

We believe
the holosuite memory core

is holding
the transporter patterns

of five crew members.

If you stop the program,
their patterns might be lost.

How could that happen?

It's a long story

but, at this moment,
the patterns

of Captain Sisko, Kira,
Worf, Dax and O'Brien

exist only
in the holosuite database.

Don't leave the holosuite.

If you do, it might disrupt
the holo-imaging array

and right now,
we can't take any chances.

You'll have to stay in there

and keep the program running
for now.


We'll get back to you, Doctor.

Oh, Julian...

you are so tense.

It's been one of those days.

I wish I could relax you

but I am here on business.

In the last 24 hours

a series of earthquakes
have struck cities

from Vladivostok to New York.

Our seismologists
have analyzed the earthquakes

and have come to the conclusion
that they are artificial.

So? That's not so difficult.

One only has to...


Your friend
seems to know something.

Believe me, he knows nothing.

If you say so.

Because of the global nature
of this crisis

my government and yours
have decided to cooperate.

We will be working...

very closely.

I'm sure we will.

Our assignment is to find out
who caused the earthquakes

and what they want.

A rather vague assignment.

We do have one clue.

One of the world's
leading seismologists

Professor Honey Bare,
has vanished.

We believe...
she has been kidnapped.

I didn't think
she was your type.

You said she's been kidnapped?

We think so.

She disappeared only a few hours

before the first quake
struck New York City.

Doctor, we're in the middle
of an emergency.

Is this really the time
to be playing games?



If Honey Bare
is killed, the computer

will erase her character
from its program.

Now, since the program thinks
that Dax is Honey Bare...

The computer would actually be
erasing Commander Dax's pattern.

Kira... uh, Ana...

do you have any idea
where Professor Bare is?

She was last seen...

I'll be right with you, Mona.



It's Falcon.

Nice to see you, Mr. Bashir.

Now I think we have
a little unfinished business.

Surprised to see me, Mr. Bashir?

You could say that.

Well, you should use something

a little more lethal
than a champagne cork.


Iike this.


Wait, please.

Let us have one last kiss.

Why not?

I've always been
a romantic at heart.


All right, Bashir,
that's enough.

Interesting jewelry.

I bought those
for Anastasia last Christmas.

You're bleeding.

The holosuite safeties
must be off.

Time to clip
this bird's wings.


What are you doing?

We can't kill him.

Julian, what are you saying?

He's been trying to kill you
for nine years.

I wouldn't dismiss her idea
so quickly, Doctor.

But that's Miles.

No, as you pointed out,
he's Falcon--

a hired assassin
who's going to do

everything he can to kill you

and without the holosuite
safeties in place

he may just do that.

Well, what do you want me
to do-- kill him?

I want you to stop
treating this like a game

where everything's going to
turn out all right in the end.

Real spies
have to make hard choices.

You want to save Dax?

Fine, but you may not
have the luxury

of saving everyone.

Who is Dax?

Eventually, you may have
to let someone die.

I'll deal with that situation

if and when it happens.

In the meantime,
we have to find Dax.

Who is Dax?

Ana, I promise I'll
explain everything later.

Now, you said Professor
Bare had been kidnapped.

Do you have any suspects?

We believe that Dr. Noah
is behind the abductions.

During the last two years,
he has kidnapped

an elite group
of 60 artisans and scientists

from around the world.

No one knows why
or where he has taken them

but our sources tell us
that each of the missing peoples

was invited to meet Dr. Noah
at a club in Paris

shortly before they disappeared.

The Club lngenue.


I had a feeling.

Sorry, my dear.

I hope you remember
how to tie a bow tie.

We're going to Paris.

Who is Dax?!

I've had to make

a few modifications to this
holosuite over the years.

A few?

It's like a junkyard in here.

My brother won't let me
buy new components

so I've had to scavenge
for what I need.

I'm barely breaking even
on the holosuites as it is.

If I had to buy new equipment
every time there was a glitch...

Where's the core
memory interface?

Oh... it's...
right behind the spatula.

The spatula?

It's made of
a copper-ytterbium composite--

the perfect plasma conductor.

I found them.

All five of their physical
patterns are in here...

and they're stable.

Why here?

The holosuite
is specifically designed

to store
highly complex energy patterns.

The computer's processing
their physical patterns

as if they were
holosuite characters.

The trouble is...

I'm not reading
any neural energy.

Neural energy

has to be stored
at the quantum level.

The holosuite can't handle that.

So, if their physical bodies
are stored here

where are their brain patterns?

Everywhere else.

Their brain patterns
are so large

that they're taking up

every bit of computer memory
on the station--

replicator memory,
weapons, life supports.

He may be right.

So what do we do about it?

How do we get them back?

Uh, I'd like to see Dr. Noah.

I have an invitation.

May I see your invitation?

Dr. Noah?

I am Duchamps.

I am Dr. Noah's... associate.

May l?

My name's Merriweather--

Patrick Merriweather,
and this is my wife

and my friend, Mr. Garak.


Your invitation,
Mr. Merriweather.

I... don't have one.

Dr. Noah does not like
unexpected guests.

Oh, I believe Dr. Noah
would be very interested

in meeting my husband.

He's one of the leading
geologists in the world.

Now, why would that
interest Dr. Noah?

Oh, we believe he's taken

quite an interest
in the sciences.

After all, he has
invited several

of the world's top scientists
to this... club.

Isn't that true?

I must say,
I feel a little insulted

by being left out
of such an illustrious group.

How unfortunate.

Of course...

a meeting still can be arranged

for a price.


Five million francs.

No problem.

I do not understand.

Where's the rest
of your money?

Right in front of you.

Shall we begin?

A Cardassian separatist group

calling themselves
"The True Way"

has claimed responsibility
for sabotaging the runabout.

Ever heard of them before?

Mmm. They're opposed
to the peace treaty.

They blame the Federation
for Cardassia's economic

and political troubles,
et cetera, et cetera.

Until now, they've never
committed any terrorist actions

to support their beliefs.

What have you found?

From what we can tell,
Quark was right.

The computer has stored
the neural energy patterns

of everyone on the runabout
throughout the entire station.

Don't everyone thank me at once.

What we need to do

is reintegrate
their neural patterns

with their physical patterns
from the holosuite

and rematerialize them.

I say we use the Defiant.

Its power systems and computers
are independent of the station

and it has its own transporter.

Sounds good, except...

Except what?

Well, my equipment
isn't designed

to interface
with Starfleet systems.

I may have to make
some modifications.



Five million francs.

You're quite a baccarat player,
Mr. Merriweather.

Baccarat and geology
are my life.

Now then

Mr. Duchamps, I believe
I've met your conditions.

When do we leave?

Right now.

Another decorator's nightmare.

This era had
a distinct lack of taste.

Where are we?

Welcome to paradise,
Mr. Merriweather.

I believe you've
been looking for me.

My name is Hippocrates Noah.

Mr. Merriweather...

I understand
your field is geology.

That's right.

Then I am sure
you can appreciate

the stones in my most
recent acquisition.

A most striking display...

of rubies...

sapphire... topaz...

and judging by the high chromium
content of the rubies,

I'd say they come from

the hydrothermal deposits
on the Tibetan plateau...

which isn't surprising

considering we're
on the southeastern slope

of Mt. Everest at about...
22,000 feet, I should say.

25, actually.

You must not get many tourists.

My guests and I
place a premium on our privacy.

We don't want
any unwelcomed guests

such as men sent by governments

who disagree
with my political philosophy.

And what is your philosophy?

Are you some kind of anarchist?

Quite the opposite.

I believe in an orderly world...

a far cry from the chaos
we find ourselves in today.

We are building
a new future here.

A new beginning for mankind.

A new chapter in human history

will open right here
on my island.


Forgive me.

Sometimes I do
get ahead of myself.

Allow me to explain.

We're almost ready.

I've programmed
the laser sequence

and I'm making
some last-minute adjustments

to a South American site.

I do have every confidence
in you, my dear.

She's working with him.

You see, Mr. Merriweather

not only do I intend
to create a new future

I intend to create a new world.

At each one of these points

I have hidden
a new form of laser--

one that can penetrate
the Earth's crust

down into the mantle itself.

The global earthquakes.

Those were only tests.

Soon, I will activate
all of these lasers together

and when I do, they will produce

worldwide earthquakes
the likes of which

we have never felt before.

Killing everyone on the planet.

More than that.

There comes a time
when a house has been so damaged

by termites that you must

not only kill the termites,
but demolish the house

and build again.

The quakes are only
a minor side effect.

The real goal of this project

is to have these lasers of mine

produce massive fissures
in the Earth's crust

releasing millions of tons
of molten lava.

Now, Mr. Merriweather,
you're the geologist.

Tell me, what happens next?

Once that much lava is released

the tectonic plates
would begin to settle.

And the surface of the planet
will shrink

just like letting air
out of a balloon.

But if the surface
of the Earth shrinks

the oceans...

Will cover the Earth.



I am going to let
mankind begin anew...

here... on this island paradise.

The only place
that will remain above water

on my brave new world.

And that is why I have gathered

the finest minds, the very best
that mankind has to offer.

We will repopulate and
start a new human race.

Pity you won't be able
to join us.

Are you revoking my invitation?

Oh, I intend to do more
than that... Mr. Bashir.

Not only have I brought
the greatest minds

to my mountain retreat

but I have also hired
the greatest protection

that money can buy.

I believe you already know
my newest employee.

Is all this really necessary?

It's the best I can do.

How long until we're ready

to try retrieving
their patterns?

I'd say... another hour.

O'Brien's going to kill me
when he gets back.

This is one of 74 lasers

that I've deployed
around the world.

When I throw that switch

it will begin
a five-minute countdown

that even I can't stop.

And once the laser fires,
the whole cave

will be filled
with molten lava.

Where's Colonel Komananov?

She's a spirited individual--



We'll need women like her

to help propagate
the second human race.

Try to stay cool, Mr. Bashir.

So what do we do now?

I'm thinking.

Think faster.

I don't know if I've made this
explicit to you or not, Doctor

but I really don't want to die
chained to a 20th-century laser.

I think it's time to end
this program.

We can't do that.

We'd wipe out the patterns
of Sisko and the others.

Then may I suggest calling
Commander Eddington

and having him
send someone in here

to remove these handcuffs?

You heard what Odo said--
we don't know what'll happen

if we interrupt
the holo-imaging array

by calling for the doors.

The entire program might
collapse and kill them all.

Well, I only know
one thing for sure, Doctor

that when the molten lava
begins pouring into this cave

you and I are going to be
very uncomfortable.

Who's that?

It's our ticket out of here.

What a waste...

that no one can see
what a beautiful woman you are.

Is that your plan?

Shut up.

Noah only wants you
for your mind.

He can't appreciate
the woman inside you.

Honey, would you grant me

one last request...
and take off those glasses?


Like this?


You know

your hair would look
so much better

if it were free.

I must say, Doctor

this is more than I
ever wanted to know

about your fantasy life.


that's the last thing
I want to remember

before I die.

Thank you.

I'd give you both
some privacy if I could.

Great plan.

Now can we call Eddington?

That will not be necessary.

Honey has given me
all we need.

Hmm-- kiss the girl,
get the key.

They never taught me that
in the Obsidian Order.

Come on!

We have to get
to the control room.


If this program ends
like the others

either Komananov or Honey Bare
will be killed by Dr. Noah.

The other's supposed
to end up with me.

In either case

we have to make sure
that both of them survive.

You expect to take on Noah
and his men with that?

It's my fantasy.

Trust me.


This has gone far enough.

It's time to cut our losses.

We can't do that.

Kira or Dax might...

Yes, they might be killed,
and that is unfortunate

but there comes a time
when the odds are against you

and the only reasonable
course of action is to quit.



Is that what they taught you
at the Obsidian Order?

To give up
when things get tough?

As a matter of fact, they did.

That's why I've managed
to stay alive

while most of my colleagues
are dead

because I know
when to walk away

and that time is now.

And you'd know that,
Doctor, if you were

a real intelligence agent.

Oh, so that's
what this is all about.

The fact that my fantasy
happens to step

on what you consider to be
your private domain.

Well, what's the matter, Garak?

Have I bruised your ego
by playacting at something

you take so very seriously?

That's something else
you've yet to learn, Doctor.

A real intelligence agent
has no ego, no conscience,

no remorse-- only a sense
of professionalism

and mine is telling me
that it's time to go.



Or what?

You'll kill me?

If you call for the exit

you might kill Sisko
and the others

and I am not prepared
to risk that.

I'm afraid I don't believe
you'll pull that trigger.

I wouldn't be so sure
about that.

It's time
to face reality, Doctor.

You're a man
who dreams of being a hero

because you know, deep down,
that you're not.

I'm no hero either

but I do know
how to make a choice

and I'm choosing to save myself.


show me the mechanism...


You'll be fine.

It's just a flesh wound.

That was awfully close.

What if you'd killed me?

What makes you think
I wasn't trying?

Doctor, I do believe
there's hope for you yet.

I'm so relieved.

Now we have to get
to the control room.

Are you coming or not?

Well, who am I to question
Julian Bashir, secret agent?

Lead on.

Everybody stay where you are.


Your weapon, Dr. Noah.

This is your doing.

You let them go.

I'm sorry, Doctor.

Julian, you are just in time.

He was about to activate

the final sequence
of the lasers.

Kill him, Julian.

Not this time, Ana.

Well, then I will.


What are you doing?

Making a mistake.

Thank you, Mr. Duchamps.

Eddington to Bashir.

We're going to try

rematerializing their patterns
in about two minutes.


And what is it you understand,
Mr. Bashir?

That you should have killed me
when you had the chance?

I agree.

But, then again, I suppose
it wouldn't be very... heroic.

I, on the other hand

have no pretensions
about the idea of being a hero.


Maybe I'm tired of being a hero.

Maybe I've thought over
what you've said

and decided
that you're absolutely right.

About what?

Everything-- the decadence

of the world,
the need for order.

The more I think about it,
the more I realize

that your way
may be the only way.


You expect me to believe that?

You are Julian Bashir

a man who has spent
his entire life

dedicated to fighting against...


But that's all about to end now,
isn't it?

You're going to destroy
this world and start a new one.

What's the use of me continuing
to defend a doomed planet?

Can you see the sense in that?


I'm an intelligence agent

and if there's
any one thing I've learned

it is that there comes a point
when the odds are against you

and there is no reasonable
course of action but to quit.

How do you think I've managed
to stay alive so long

when all of my compatriots
are dead?

It is because I have known
when to walk away.

Rom to Ops.
I'm ready.

You can start transferring the
neural energy to the Defiant.


Beginning data transfer.

You make a very interesting
argument, Mr. Bashir.

But I'm afraid I've been
looking forward to killing you

for a long time.

You need to move beyond that.

You need to start thinking
about your new world order.

You may even need
someone like me.

If you think
that by going over there

you are going to destroy
my control console

you are wasting your time.

I don't intend
to destroy your console, Doctor.

I intend to use it.

You've just activated
the final laser sequence.

You've destroyed the world.

Data transfer complete.

I am reestablishing
computer control

over the station.

It's working
just as you planned.

You've done it, Doctor.


But somehow,
I didn't expect to win.

I suppose

the only thing left to do now
is to kill you.

What happened, Commander?

What did you do to my ship?

It's going to take
some explaining.

Eddington to Bashir.

We've got them, Doctor.

You can leave the holosuite now.

Thank you.


You saved the day
by destroying the world.

I bet they didn't teach you that
at the Obsidian Order.

No, no, there was a great deal
they didn't teach me.

Like the value
of a good game of chance

or how indulging in fantasy
keeps the mind creative.

Lunch tomorrow?

Of course.

But why don't we
have it at your place...

in Hong Kong.

Unless, of course,
this was your last mission.

Oh, I think it's safe to say

that Julian Bashir,
secret agent, will return.