Star Trek: Voyager (1995–2001): Season 3, Episode 16 - Blood Fever - full transcript

Captain's log, stardate 50537.2.

Scans of an uninhabited star system
revealed the presence of gallicite,

a very rare substance.

If these readings are right, we're
looking at a yield of nearly a kiloton.

That is enough gallicite
to refit the warp coils.

They could use it
with all the damage they've taken.

Does anyone consider this
their property?

There are indications
that a colony once existed.

However,
it appears to be long abandoned.

Let's stake a claim.
I'll leave it in your hands.

Use whatever resources you need.
Talk to Mr Neelix.



He spent time
working in a mining colony.

The tunnels are clearly artificial.
Someone else was interested in it.

That makes it easier to access it.

We have to be careful.
There's been seismic activity.

These tunnels collapsed.

We should bring Tom Paris.
He has rock-climbing experience.

I explored the Osana caverns,
which involved treacherous climbing.

You two can be safety experts.

- Are our preparations satisfactory?
- We're done here, yes.

Let me take this opportunity
to declare Koon-ut so'lik.

- My desire to become your mate.
- What?

In human terms, I am
proposing marriage. Do you accept?

Uh... this is uh... a
little sudden, isn't it?

Besides, I thought
Vulcan marriages were arranged.



Don't you have somebody back home?

She may consider me lost and
has most likely chosen another mate.

- It's appropriate for me to do the same.
- And you've chosen me?

I have come to admire
your technical skills,

your bravery and sense of moral duty,
all excellent qualities in a mate.

But you're Vulcan. I am half-Klingon.

- I really can't imagine...
- We are not an obvious match.

Our differences
complement each other.

You get frustrated with your temper.
I could help you control it.

- Furthermore, I feel...
- Wait, please. I'm...

I see you've given this a lot of logical
thought and I really am very flattered,

but my answer is no.

I'm sorry.

B'Elanna, you may wish to reconsider.

Your choices are limited to 73 males
on this ship, many already unavailable.

I'll worry about my choices myself.

Many humanoid species are unable
to withstand Klingon mating practices,

whereas my Vulcan strength
would make me a suitable partner.

- Here are his cortical scan results.
- So what's wrong with him?

In addition to a dislocated jaw,

he has a neurochemical imbalance.

Meaning what?

I'll discuss that with
the patient privately.

You're going through the Pon farr?

That's an extremely personal question.

I'm aware that Vulcans prefer to keep

their mating practices to themselves.

There's nothing in the medical database

beyond a few Starfleet observations.

Your symptoms - chemical imbalance

and loss of control

are consistent with them.

Are you eating and sleeping normally?

I knew something was wrong.

I hoped it wasn't... this.

I assume this is your first Pon farr?

Don't be embarrassed.

It's a normal biological function.

I'll help, but I need more information.

We do not discuss it.

You have to. You have
an imbalance in your brain chemistry.

It could become life threatening.

I need to know
how Vulcans deal with this condition.

We go home.

Every seven years of our adult life,

Vulcans experience
an instinctual, irresistible urge

to return to the homeworld
and take a mate.

In your case, being stranded halfway
across the galaxy, that's impossible.

So, logically, you try to find a mate
here. That explains your behaviour.

I have always had great respect
for B'Elanna.

I hope she isn't too upset with me.

With Lieutenant Torres,
"upset" is a relative term.

We'll have to try to find another way
to treat your condition.

- Let's start with a microcellular scan.
- No!

I don't want medical treatment.
I will resolve this myself.

- How do you intend to do that?
- There are meditative techniques.

I will be fine if simply left alone.
Please, allow me to return to my quarters.

Confine me there, if you wish,
but allow me to resolve this privately.

Until I know how to treat your condition,
I'll release you to your quarters.

You'll be under confinement and
wearing a cortical monitor at all times.

Thank you.

I'm concerned about Vorik's readings.

One returns to normal,
then another one spikes.

It's as if the brain's regulatory system
had shut down.

I can't tell if he's making any progress.

- Maybe you could suggest treatments.
- I cannot.

Because you don't know,
or you won't discuss it?

For both of those reasons
there is little help I can offer.

It is inappropriate for me
to involve myself.

For such an enlightened race, Vulcans
have a Victorian attitude about sex.

- That is a very human judgment.
- Then here's a Vulcan one.

I fail to see the logic in perpetuating
ignorance about a biological function.

There is nothing logical
about the Pon farr.

Instinct and emotion
dominate over reason.

It cannot be analysed by the mind,
nor cured by conventional medicine.

Understand that it must be followed
to its natural resolution.

Which is what, exactly?

There are three options I am aware of.

Taking a mate,
which Vorik has already attempted.

Ritual combat,
which does not apply to his situation...

Combat?

An ancient tradition of fighting for
one's mate, which is not relevant here.

The third is the intensive meditation
he is trying.

Is there anything we can do to help?

Any interference would be unwelcome
and counterproductive.

Allow him to face this privately.

If he possesses enough discipline
to reach a resolution,

his chemical imbalance
will correct itself.

The Vulcan brain
never ceases to amaze me.

Thank you, Lieutenant.
You've been a great help.

- You two are awfully prompt.
- Impressed?

It'll take more work than that
to impress me, Lieutenant.

- Yes, ma'am.
- All right.

- Let me show you our target area.
- Shouldn't we wait for Vorik?

He's not coming.
This is the most accessible vein.

We'll go down this passageway
and into this chamber.

Then we'll descend almost 50 metres.

Do you see any problem with that,
Tom?

Well, as long as we go slow and easy,
we'll be fine.

- Good. All set, Neelix?
- I've got a laser drill, sample cases...

In other words, you're ready. Let's go.

- This way.
- Look over here.

This must have been the colony.

Not more than 50 or 60 years ago.

Hardly time for these structures
to decay so badly.

They must have suffered
some kind of disaster.

We'll get archaeologists later.
We've got work to do.

- Are we in a rush?
- I see no point in wasting time.

Unless you want to stall to put off
demonstrating your climbing expertise.

Grab your gear and try to keep up.

No matter how real
a holodeck program seems,

it doesn't get your heart pumping like
a physical challenge. It's exhilarating.

If you're looking for exhilaration...

It didn't look quite so steep
on the sensor map, did it?

We're prepared for this.
We can handle it. Let's go.

All this technology
almost takes the fun out of it.

If you mean the fun of wondering
whether your anchor will hold on a cliff,

I think I'll pass. See you below.

You go first. I'll follow you.

- Watch your footing!
- My heart is pumping faster.

Wait till we go up
with a pack of gallicite.

I'm just getting warmed up.

No!

Are you hurt?

- You almost got us both killed.
- I'm sorry.

- I don't know what happened.
- Careful. You might have broken it.

You had no business rigging equipment
when you had no idea what to do!

Calm down. It wasn't his fault.
I saw him drive the piton. It was solid.

- It malfunctioned. You are hurt.
- I would have been better alone.

- You're overreacting.
- Get him to the ship. I'll get the gallicite.

- We can't leave you here alone.
- He's right. Let's contact the ship.

You get your hands off of me.

Argh! B'Elanna!

- What is wrong with you?
- Nothing.

- I'm in charge of this mission. I'll finish it.
- Wait!

Go ahead, Tom. I'll be all right here.

The last thing we need
is for all of us to split up.

Paris to Voyager.
We've got problems down here.

I can't contact her. She's either
out of range, or not responding.

Where is she now?

Last verifiable location
is ten metres below us.

I tried to stop her from leaving,
but she got very hostile and bit me.

She bit you?

She enjoyed it, in a Klingon kind of way.
She's really not herself.

- Did you get a lock on them?
- They're too far beneath the surface.

I'll send an away team to get Neelix out
and go after B'Elanna.

- Tuvok, go with Chakotay.
- I'd like to request a short delay.

I may have an explanation
for the lieutenant's behaviour.

Go away.

I said, go away!

I'm sorry, sir.

No, I must apologise for the intrusion,
particularly at this time.

Then you know?

Yes. I must ask you uncomfortable
questions regarding Lieutenant Torres.

Yes, sir.

It is important for me to know
what happened between the two of you.

Was there any physical contact?

Yes.

Please describe your actions.

It's hard to remember.
I was acting irrationally.

I believe I approached her.

I... touched her face.

I meant to be gentle,
but she tried to move away

and then I was holding her more tightly,
both hands on her face like this.

It felt very important not to let go.
I'm not certain why.

I believe you were initiating
a telepathic mating bond.

I didn't know it could happen that way.

I wanted to bond with her,
that much I remember clearly.

You succeeded. Lieutenant Torres
has been displaying unusual behaviour,

very much like
the early stages of Pon farr.

How is that possible? She's not Vulcan.

There have been instances
of Vulcans mating with other races.

But she rejected me forcefully.

Even a brief moment of bonding
could disrupt her self-control,

as the Pon farr does in us.

In a half-Klingon,
the effects may be extreme.

- I have to go to her.
- You cannot.

- She is out of contact, on the planet.
- Then I'll find her.

B'Elanna needs me and I need her.

It is far more sensible
to get her back to Voyager

and decide on a proper resolution.

The resolution must be
that we become mates. It is only logical.

Lieutenant Torres has never been
a great follower of logic.

You think she'll reject me again?

It might be wise to continue
your meditative efforts.

I'll do my best, sir.

Her condition will become
life threatening.

She could die from this?

And you've gone through it
every seven years?

You only need to be concerned
with her situation.

Right. It looks like finding her
won't be easy.

Scanning range is limited to 20 metres
and that's not too reliable.

We'll go after the gallicite
and hope it leads us to her.

I'm ready to go, Commander.

Let's go.

- B'Elanna.
- Tom.

- You've got to see this.
- How do you feel?

Fine. This power system
must have been built by the colonists.

We'll send somebody to study it.
You've got to get to the ship.

No. This is my discovery.
It's my mission. You don't understand.

This is the source of the readings.
These conduits have gallicite plating.

- It's what we need and I found it.
- You've succeeded in your mission.

Now, you must tend to yourself.
You're experiencing Pon farr.

- Pon what?
- Your emotional balance is disrupted.

You may not be in control
of your more aggressive instincts.

I lost my temper for a minute. That's all.

Why are you staring at me like that?

- Please, come back to the ship.
- Just leave me alone.

- Who are you? What do you want?
- My name is Chakotay.

We have no hostile intent.

- She does.
- B'Elanna, please.

She is suffering
from a chemical imbalance.

An imbalance? Is it contagious?

No.
However, she needs our assistance.

We'll take her
and leave your territory.

- Tell me why you came here.
- We came to find gallicite.

- We thought the planet was uninhabited.
- Why do you carry weapons?

It's standard procedure
for missions into unfamiliar territory.

Let me see one.

What is that?
Some sort of scanning device?

- Yes. It's a tricorder.
- But it didn't detect life-forms here?

No, it didn't.

- What's that?
- Seismic alert.

That wall is unstable. Be careful.

Watch out.

B'Elanna, don't!

B'Elanna!

There must be a hidden door,
or a passageway.

I'm not picking up anything like that.
Or any lifesigns.

- Then you're using it wrong.
- Yeah, that must be it.

Or else these aliens are generating
interference so we can't detect them.

- Let's go before they come back.
- We can't leave Chakotay and Tuvok.

If you know how to find them,
I'm listening.

We have to get back to the ship and
get some help, for them and for you.

Why is everybody saying
there's something wrong with me?

I'll try to explain it to you,
but we've got to get moving.

There. Your serotonin levels
are stabilised for the moment,

but I'm concerned
about these fluctuations.

It's now more difficult to compensate.

I will increase my efforts
to control them, Doctor.

Will you consider
an alternative treatment?

- I will deal with this myself.
- Ensign, your life is at risk.

You don't understand how
a Vulcan copes with this experience.

It's a test of his character.

I've already humiliated myself
and Lieutenant Tuvok

by allowing a private matter
to become so public.

Give yourself some credit.

You're doing your best
under difficult circumstances.

If you were on Vulcan,
you'd have your family to help you.

I shouldn't need any help.

I know self-sufficiency
is important to a Vulcan,

but there is nothing shameful
in getting guidance once in a while.

I'd like you to consider my alternative

and then you can decide
whether or not to try it.

Ensign.

What is the purpose of coming here?

Trust me. Ensign Vorik,
I'd like you to meet T'Pera.

You're not suggesting
that she become my mate?

I wouldn't recommend
a lifetime commitment,

but she might be able to help you
with your immediate problem.

She's a hologram. She isn't real.

I assume you have
the same low regard for me.

You're a skilled physician,
but there are limitations

to your own experience
with physical matters.

We're discussing
your sexual difficulties.

- This is the best solution I can think of.
- She won't be the same as a real mate.

The difference is all in your mind,
which, if I've understood correctly,

is where the Pon farr must be resolved.

Let your mind convince your body that
she is exactly what you need her to be.

Think of this
as an advanced self-healing technique.

It still requires considerable
mental discipline.

There is a certain logic
to your suggestion, Doctor.

- I will try.
- Good.

Well, then,
I'll leave the two of you alone.

Tuvok is wrong about Pon farr.
It makes no sense.

- It explains how you've been acting.
- I don't see what's strange.

Starting a fight with armed aliens,
shouting at Neelix, giving me this?

In Klingon custom,
biting someone on the face means...

I know what it means.

All right, so maybe I do feel something,
some kind of instinct.

What am I supposed to do about it?

When we get back to the ship,
the Doctor can help. Or there's Vorik.

I am not helping that Vulcan pahtk!

The idea of bonding with him...
It's ludicrous!

What's this?

- The tremor shook the rocks loose.
- They're in the way.

Hold it! The tunnel is unstable. An
energy blast might bring it down on us.

- Let go!
- No. I think I should keep this.

- Never pick a fight with a Klingon.
- I won't fight you.

Afraid I'll break your arm?
You should be.

B'Elanna, stop it! This isn't
about the gun. This is about sex.

- But that's not going happen right now.
- I think it is.

See, I've picked up your scent, Tom.
I've tasted your blood.

No. No.

I'm a friend. I have to watch out for
you when your judgment's impaired.

If you let your instincts take over,
you'll hate yourself

and me too for taking advantage of you.

I won't do that.

Maybe... we should
continue separately.

- No.
- You don't know how strong...

how hard it is to fight this urge.

Are you saying I'm impossible to resist?

- I wouldn't go that far.
- Good.

Come on.

I want to know about your vessel.

Your propulsion systems, weapons,
sensors, everything.

Your arm has an artificial implant.

The elbow joint was replaced after
I was injured in a combat simulation.

I also want to know about your medical
technology, artificial intelligence.

I'd be glad to tell you. There's
no need to hold us for interrogation.

What do you expect
after invading Sakari territory?

- We didn't know anyone was here.
- Yes, so you've said.

You have made every effort
to avoid detection.

Is it so difficult to believe
you were effective?

If so you wouldn't have found anything
to bring you here.

- We can help you with that.
- What?

We can show you how you can
disguise the gallicite better.

We can help you eliminate the ruins, so
no one else will be curious about them.

- You've seen the ruins?
- I assume the Sakari lived there.

- Long ago, before I was born.
- What happened?

My people never knew who
the invaders were or why they attacked.

It was all over in less than an hour.

Some of the colonists
escaped into the mines.

We've lived here ever since,
where it's safe.

If the invaders learn we're here,
they might return.

I can understand your caution,
but let us help you protect yourselves.

Then we'll never bother you again.

Agreed, but you will be supervised
at all times.

Can you make it
to the next passageway?

Not much choice.

- It's all right. We'll find a way out.
- We should use that weapon now.

I might agree with you if I still had it.
It's buried under all that.

- What?
- Sorry.

- Try to stay calm. I know it's hard.
- You don't know anything.

I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin.
I need to do something. I can't take this.

- You've never been hard to get, Tom.
- Well, I'm making an exception.

- I can't let you do this.
- I'll bet you wish you could.

All those invitations to dinner
and on the holodeck,

the way you would stare at me
when you thought I wasn't looking

and get jealous
when I'm with someone else.

You can't tell me
you're not interested in me.

You're right. I can't.

Then don't push me away.

Believe me, I'd like to,
but I know this isn't really you.

You made it clear you're not interested
and I have to accept that, even now.

No. No, it isn't.

I was just afraid to admit it.

You see, I've wanted this for so long.

Just let it happen.

I hope someday you'll say that to me
and mean it.

You'd let me go insane?

- You know that's not true.
- You just stay away from me.

You called, Ensign?
Is there a problem?

- Not at all.
- You seem... much improved.

Yes. Your holodeck therapy
was very effective.

I compliment you
on an innovative solution.

I'm pleased to hear that. It could be
an alternative for space-faring Vulcans.

When we get back,
Starfleet medical will...

- ...never hear of your experiences.
- Thank you, Doctor.

- May I return to duty?
- Soon. I need to run cortical scans.

Mr Vorik's readings are stabilising.

They're not back to normal,
but he's through the worst.

- I'm ready to release him.
- Good.

- Will it help B'Elanna?
- I don't see why not.

- When she's back, I'll send her to you.
- I'll design a half-Klingon program.

There's a lot of information in the
database about their mating practices.

Did you know that fracturing a clavicle
is thought a blessing on the marriage?

As a matter of fact, I didn't.

I plan to study all these mating rituals.
It is fascinating.

- From a socio-biological point of view.
- B'Elanna will appreciate your efforts.

- Where are we?
- Still stuck in the cave, I'm afraid.

The caves?

- The gallicite. Where's my tricorder?
- We're not looking for it any more.

We're trying to get back to the ship,
remember?

No, I don't.

- Are you two all right?
- B'Elanna needs help.

We've got to get her out of here.

Chakotay to Voyager.
Please respond.

- Still nothing.
- Why aren't they answering?

A communications problem.
They'll fix it soon.

It may not be soon enough.

I am concerned about her symptoms.
You must help her now, Mr Paris.

If she does not resolve the Pon farr,
she will die.

I know this is a pretty bizarre situation,
not what either one of us had in mind.

- But it's too late to worry about it now.
- Tom.

- What?
- Be quiet.

So this is the part
where you throw heavy objects at me?

Maybe later.

I'm not sure exactly
what I'm supposed to do.

- Well, what are you doing?
- Enjoying myself?

Then show it.

- You are my mate, not his!
- What are you doing here?

I've come to claim you, to fulfil our
bond, and if necessary, to face my rival.

Lieutenant Tuvok!

- Ensign.
- Sir, I declare Koon-ut-kal-if-fee.

He intends to fight to win his mate.

- You want a fight?
- Hold on, Tom. There won't be one.

Are you responsible for the ship
being out of contact?

I disabled communications,
transporters and shuttles.

- No one will keep me from my mate!
- I am not your mate!

- We will soon decide that!
- I'll smash your arrogant face in!

I take your challenge myself!

She can choose her defender,
even herself.

Hold on.
Neither of you are thinking straight.

I suggest we allow them
to follow their instincts.

- Let them fight?
- It is logical.

- Both must resolve their Pon farr.
- They'll tear each other to pieces.

The risk of injury is preferable to dying
from a chemical imbalance.

Commander, I see no alternative,
but to follow Vulcan tradition.

- All right.
- Begin.

- Is it over?
- The blood fever has been purged.

They will both recover.

Captain's log, stardate 50541.6.

We're following through
with Chakotay's offer to help the Sakari

and they've agreed to supply us
with a generous quantity of gallicite.

Deck 2.

So, looks like you're feeling better.

- You back on duty?
- Yes, I'm fine. Thanks.

The refit is going well. We'll have
new warp coils by the weekend.

Good. Glad to hear it.

Computer, halt turbolift.
Look, this is ridiculous.

We'll be on this ship for a long time.

We have to pretend
the mission didn't happen.

- But something did happen.
- Look, I appreciate what you did.

What you were willing to do for me.

But I was under the influence of
some weird Vulcan chemical imbalance

and whatever I did,
whatever I said, it wasn't me.

I know. You're afraid that your scary
Klingon side might have been showing.

Well, I saw it up close
and, you know, it wasn't so terrible.

I wouldn't mind
seeing it again someday.

Computer, resume.

Careful what you wish for, Lieutenant.

- Your call sounded urgent.
- You should see this.

We found this in the ruins.

One of the invaders
who destroyed this colony.

The Borg!