First Officer's log, stardate 41997.7 We are about to make a brief but necessary contact with the Jarada,
a reclusive, insect-like race known for its idiosyncratic attitude towards protocol.
The Jarada demand a precise greeting, in this case from Captain Picard. Their language is most unusual.
The slightest mispronunciation is regarded as an insult.
PICARD: Unless it's followed by?
TROI: The double bars indicate an elongated S sound.
PICARD: And the inverted T means to hold the Z.
PICARD: Unless it's followed by three wavy lines; in which case the Z becomes a B.
PICARD: What a language.
TROI: But you spell knife with a K.
PICARD: I spell knife with an N. But then, I never could spell.
TROI: Well, this is an insect mind, sir.
PICARD: My mind is barely working.
TROI: Take a break.
PICARD: No, no. I want to go over this again.
TROI: You could be over-preparing. You've been looking forward to the upgrade of the holodeck. You have the time. Captain, you need the diversion.
PICARD: Dixon Hill.
TROI: The program's installed and waiting.
COMPUTER: Programme desired location.
PICARD: Earth, United States, San Francisco, California.
COMPUTER: Time period?
PICARD: 1941, A.D.
COMPUTER: File or access code.
PICARD: File Dixon Hill, private detective.
COMPUTER: Enter when ready.
Captain's personal log. I'm entering the ship's holodeck, where images of reality can be created by our computer. Highly useful in crew training,
highly enjoyable when used for games and recreation.
[Hill's Waiting room]
(In uniform, Picard goes along a corridor being washed by a cleaner, listening to music - you came to me from out of nowhere, you took my heart -
and opens a door marked 312 - Dixon Hill Private Investigator)
SECRETARY: Very funny, Dix. What'd you do, lose another bet?
PICARD: I'm sorry, I don't understand.
SECRETARY: The bellboy suit. Are you moonlighting at the Fremont?
PICARD: The uniform. It's totally inappropriate. I should have changed.
SECRETARY: Detective Bell, your cop friend, McNary's new partner, was here nosing around. If he'd have seen you in those threads
he'd have you sent to the funny farm. Mister Leech called twice, and there's a lady named Bradley waiting in your office. Nice legs.
Not you. Her. Got a hot date with my fella. See you in the morning.
(She leaves, laughing. Picard opens the door to his inner office and we go into Maltese Falcon territory)
PICARD: I lost a bet.
JESSICA: Oh well, at least you're ready for Halloween.
JESSICA: I need your help, Mister Hill. Someone is trying to kill me.
Captain's personal log. I'm delighted with how the Holodeck has created the fictional world of Dixon Hill,
the twentieth century detective who has been a hero of mine since childhood. The illusion is flawless.
The characters I meet are generated by the computer, of course, yet they feel real, they seem real in every way.
JESSICA: I'm not sure who wants me dead. My husband, my stepdaughter.
PICARD: Or a lover, perhaps?
JESSICA: Perhaps. Or perhaps it's Cyrus Redblock. I need you to find out. Name your fee.
PICARD: Twenty dollars a day, plus expenses.
PICARD: I haven't said yes yet.
JESSICA: Oh, you'll say yes, Mister Hill. (she kisses him) If it is Redblock, he must think I've got what he's looking for. But believe me, I don't.
PICARD: I'll take your word for it.
JESSICA: Here's a C-note in advance. Consider it a retainer. (she tucks it in his collar) And next time, wear a suit. Au revoir.
(She takes one of his calling cards and leaves. Picard looks out of the window)
PICARD: Remarkable. Exit.
(He is just leaving the holodeck when there is a knock on the office door)
PICARD: You'll have to call again. I'm just leaving. I'm not dressed properly. I'll be back.
(Picard leaves, the exit vanishes and the visitor enters the room)
LEECH: (Peter Lorre accent) Mister Hill? Where are you?
PICARD: Memory, save current setting.
COMPUTER: Current setting saved.
PICARD: Holodeck off.
(The crew notice the red lipstick on his face as he goes along the corridor)
PICARD: And when I looked down into the street, I actually saw automobiles!
DATA: An ancient Earth device used primarily for transportation.
DATA: Also seen as a source of status and virility. Often a prime ingredient in teenage mating rituals.
WESLEY: Teenage mating rituals?
PICARD: From that window, I could see an entire, er
DATA: City block.
PICARD: That's right. Sounds, Smells.
CRUSHER: You make it sound so real.
PICARD: That's how it felt.
CRUSHER: Incredible. (she wipes the lipstick off his face)
PICARD: I'm going to go again, only this time I'm going to dress the part. Why not come with me?
CRUSHER: Yes, I'd like that.
PICARD: I want to take that twentieth century historian.
CRUSHER: Who? Whalen?
PICARD: Yes, Whalen. I bet he knows more about Dixon Hill than I do.
DATA: Shall I tell him, sir?
PICARD: Invite him, Mister Data. This is supposed to be a recreational activity. The sense of reality was absolutely incredible.
When that woman kissed me, it was so
PICARD: Real. The subject of this meeting is the Jaradan rendezvous. Mister Riker, will you go ahead with the briefing.
RIKER: This is primarily a diplomatic mission. The Jaradan are strategically important to the Federation.
Previous attempts have failed because they are so easily irritated. A slip in the pronunciation of the greeting caused a twenty year rift.
TROI: The Captain has to recite the entire greeting without making any mistakes.
LAFORGE: Simple as that, huh?
DATA: Yes. If, on the other hand, the Captain makes even the slightest error
TROI: The Captain is well aware of the gravity of the situation, Commander.
DATA: We are all aware of the tape of the last Federation starship to come in contact with the Jaradan.
It graphically demonstrates what happened when that Captain offended them.
TROI: Captain Picard is familiar with that, Data.
DATA: Should we not rerun it?
PICARD: It's not necessary, Mister Data. Meeting adjourned.
DATA: Why would the Captain not want to review all available information on the subject?
LAFORGE: Data, when you've seen the Jaradan react once, you don't ever have to see it again.
DATA: This Dixon Hill is a most puzzling character.
LAFORGE: Not really. He was just a twentieth-century Sherlock Holmes.
DATA: Ah, but was his modus operandi not dissimilar? Worth investigating.
LAFORGE: Indubitably, my dear Data. Indubitably.
DATA: Computer: request all biographical information on fictional character Dixon Hill.
COMPUTER: Working. Character first appeared in pulp magazine, Amazing Detective Stories, copyright 1934, AD.
Second appearance in novel The Long Dark Tunnel, copyright 1936.
DATA: Request complete text of all stories involving said character. Increase speed.
(The ultimate speed reading course whizzes before Data's optics)
Captain's log, supplemental. The Jaradan rendezvous still is eleven hours away. I am about to reenter the world
of Dixon Hill, this time properly dressed. An experience like this is more enjoyable when shared, so I've invited our
fiction expert, Whalen, to accompany me. Doctor Crusher will join us shortly.
(In trench coat and fedora, Picard looks the part)
PICARD: Ready for San Francisco, Mister Whalen?
WHALEN: More than ready, sir.
PICARD: Well, if it's anything like the last time, I'm sure you won't be disappointed
DATA: Request permission to accompany you, sir. I am totally versed in the genre of the period.
PICARD: Well, shall we?
(It has been raining, the tarmac glistens and cars sound their horns)
VENDOR: Extra! Extra! Read all about it.
(The group cross the street to the news stand)
VENDOR: Hey Dix. How's tricks?
PICARD: Oh, she's fine, fine.
WHALEN: He actually thinks you're Dixon Hill.
PICARD: Say Mac, I would like to buy a newspaper too, but I don't have any money.
VENDOR: You catch me next time, Dix.
PICARD: Thank you. (reads) Hitler on the move. Roosevelt presses Congress for British aid. DiMaggio streak reaches thirty seven?
DATA: DiMaggio, sir. Jolting Joe, the Yankee clipper.
WHALEN: Baseball, sir. It was a national obsession at the time.
DATA: The streak they refer to will eventually reach fifty six games. And be snapped by a pair of journeyman hurlers for the Cleveland Indians.
VENDOR: Cleveland? Ha! They got no pitchers! They ain't never got no pitchers. What are you, nuts or something?
DATA: The record will stand until the year 2026, when a shortstop for the London Kings
VENDOR: Hey Dix, what gives with this guy? He's not from around here, is he.
PICARD: No he's not. He's er, he's from South America.
VENDOR: Yeah. He's got a nice tan.
(Picard reads the inside headline - Wealthy Socialite Murdered. Police have several leads in brutal slaying of Mrs. Arthur Clinton Bradley)
PICARD: I should have listened to her. She told me someone was trying to kill her.
WHALEN: Captain, she's a page from a book. That's all she ever was.
BELL: Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.
BELL: Where the hell did he come from?
VENDOR: South America. Can't you tell?
BELL: Wherever you're from, while you're in my town, keep your nose clean. Well, tough guy, this time you've really done it.
Your goose is cooked but good.
MCNARY: I'm sorry about this, Dix.
BELL: Don't apologise to him. Where were you last night between ten and midnight?
PICARD: That would be a bit hard to explain.
BELL: Yeah? Well you'll have plenty of time to come up with something. You're going downtown.
PICARD: What for?
BELL: For the murder of Jessica Bradley. We found this in her purse. (the business card)
RIKER: Status report.
TASHA: We're being probed, sir.
TROI: The Jarada.
TASHA: Most likely, but it's long range. Can't be certain where it's originating.
(The ship shakes as a beam passes through it, including the holodeck, whose controls flicker and door briefly opens and closes a few times)
RIKER: One could get the feeling they don't exactly trust us.
LAFORGE: Commander, I'm receiving a subspace message from the Jarada.
RIKER: That's not part of the plan. Pipe it through.
JARADAN [OC[: En-ter-prise. We speak to you in your language. The time has come to honour us in ours.
RIKER: This is Commander Riker, First Officer of the Enterprise.
JARADAN [OC[: You are not captain?
RIKER: No sir, I'm not. I suggest we commence with screen to screen communication so we can see each other
JARADAN [OC[: You offend us! We will not show ourselves to a mere subordinate. We await your Captain's greeting with growing unrest. End of communication.
RIKER: Terrific. Find the Captain. He's in the Holodeck.
LAFORGE: Aye, sir.
(Crusher is trying to straighten her stocking seams)
COMPUTER: Enter when ready. When ready. When ready.
(It takes a couple of goes to get the doors open enough to go through)
(Crusher enters, wobbling a little on her stiletto heels)
DATA: (Bogart) Hiya Doc. What's cooking?
CRUSHER: You know I had some trouble getting through. Where's Captain Picard?
DATA: He's on ice.
DATA: He's being grilled.
CRUSHER: What is he, a fish?
WHALEN: H's being interrogated. They think he's committed a murder.
CRUSHER: Why aren't we all being interrogated? Maybe I should go and help him.
WHALEN: No, relax. He's having the time of his life in there.
CRUSHER: Well, why should he have all the fun?
(She sits down and copies the woman next to here by crossing her legs and pulling up her skirt slightly)
POLICEMAN: Come on, Toots, let's go.
BELL: Spill it!
PICARD: I've told you everything I know.
BELL: Well, you'll just have to tell us again. From the top. From the top!
PICARD: Oh, very good. I've read all this before, you know. It's absolutely as it should be.
BELL: Spill it!
LAFORGE: LaForge to Bridge.
RIKER [OC]: Riker here.
LAFORGE: I can't find the Captain, sir.
RIKER [OC]: I told you, he's in the holodeck.
LAFORGE: I'm at the holodeck. Something's gone wrong.
RIKER [OC]: What are you saying?
LAFORGE: I can't communicate with him, I can't access the programme, and I can't open the doors.
Enterprise log, supplemental. First Officer reporting. Due to an unknown breakdown in the holodeck, we are unable to contact the Captain.
RIKER: Tasha, take over. I'm going to holodeck three.
WESLEY: Commander? I've studied all the technical manuals on the holodecks, sir. I think I can be of some help down there.
RIKER: Geordi's well equipped to deal with the situation, Wes. Right now, your duty's here on the Bridge.
TROI: Will. His mother's missing too.
RIKER: Come on, Wesley.
BELL: And you say you never met her before she came to hire you.
PICARD: I've already told you that twice.
BELL: Yeah? Well you're going to have to tell me again.
PICARD: Look fellas, this is no longer amusing.
MCNARY: Easy, Dan!
BELL: You think you're tough, Hill, but you're nothing!
MCNARY: Don't take him too seriously, Dix. His old lady's been giving him a hard time. You know how it is.
PICARD: Actually, I do need to get out of here.
MCNARY: I'll see what I can do.
(Crusher is continuing to try and imitate the other women, this time by powdering her nose. The Desk Sergeant is enjoying the view)
CRUSHER: Something on your mind?
SERGEANT: Yeah, nut I'm not sure it can be repeated in mixed company. (he offers her gum) You're a pretty hep lookin' broad.
CRUSHER: Is that good?
SERGEANT: It ain't bad. You like Tommy Dorsey? (she nods) I got two tickets for the dance tomorrow night.
(Crusher swallows the gum)
RIKER: Have you tried the intercom?
RIKER: Riker to holodeck. Riker to holodeck!
(Wesley takes a piece of equipment and uses it to 'look' at the holodeck controls)
RIKER: Are you seeing anything?
WESLEY: No, sir.
RIKER: What can I do?
LAFORGE: Not a thing. We have to go through this millimetre by millimetre.
RIKER: All right. Get it fixed.
LAFORGE: Easy, Wes. Slow it down. If there's an anomaly, you could go right past it, okay?
MCNARY: Okay, Dix, we're cutting you loose.
PICARD: That's welcome news.
BELL: You better not try to leave town.
PICARD: If I leave town, the town leaves with me. I get the feeling your friend doesn't like me.
MCNARY: We know you're dealing with Redblock, Dixon. Take it from a friend, it doesn't help your case.
PICARD: Redblock? I'll keep it in mind. Thank you for helping me.
(Takes a cigarette, inhales and coughs)
MCNARY: Forget it. Hey, Dix, when are you coming over for supper? The kids'd love to see you, and you know how much you love Sharon's cooking.
PICARD: Soon, my friend. For the moment, I have other duties.
MCNARY: Blonde or brunette?
PICARD: She's a lady, all right, and her name is Enterprise.
MCNARY: Sounds like a working girl to me. I'll stop by the office with a bottle of scotch. You can tell me all about her.
(McNary sees the look on Picard's face when he sees Crusher, and leaves without another word)
CRUSHER: Have a good time?
PICARD: I don't know. Sometimes it almost seemed too real. I must say, you wear it well. I'm glad you could make it.
CRUSHER: Why, thank you, Mister Hill.
PICARD: Maybe we should be getting back to the Enterprise.
CRUSHER: We are on the Enterprise.
PICARD: Oh, yes, of course, so we are.
CRUSHER: Do we have time to see your office?
PICARD: Yes, of course. Why not.
WHALEN: Captain, mind if I join you?
DATA: Yeah, me too, boss. I'd love to take a gander.
(rolled eyes all round)
[Hill's Waiting room]
PICARD [OC]: The holodeck makes excellent use of finite space.
(The group enter)
LEECH: Ah, Mister Hill. You've been avoiding me.
WHALEN: It's Felix Leech! It has to be.
LEECH: You know me, sir?
WHALEN: Well, I've read about you many times.
PICARD: I'm very sorry, Mister Leech, but we have to be going. Call again tomorrow.
LEECH: You're being quite rude, Mister Hill. You haven't even introduced me to your charming companions.
PICARD: That'll have to wait.
LEECH: But we have business! (pulls a gun) Urgent business.
LEECH: You're not going anywhere. Not until we have a little chat.
TASHA [OC]: Bridge to holodeck. We're approaching the Jaradan sector.
RIKER: Any word from the Jaradans?
TASHA [OC]: Not a thing, sir.
RIKER: They may be testing us. Seeing if we'll stick to the arrangements.
TASHA [OC]: What do we do now, sir?
RIKER: We wait.
LAFORGE: Well, everything checks out so far. Ensign Crusher believes the trouble may have been caused by the Jaradan probe.
If so, it could be very difficult to locate.
LEECH: I am not a man to be toyed with, Mister Hill. You were hired to locate a certain object. I demand to know what you have done with it.
PICARD: Well, I suppose a few moments longer. I'm afraid I can't help you, Mister Leech. The game is over.
LEECH: I assure you, this is not a game.
WHALEN: (Jimmy Cagney) Take it from me, Leech, you'll never find it. Now, give me the gun.
(Leech shoots him in the chest. Crusher applauds his performance until she sees the blood)
WHALEN: But, they're not real.
CRUSHER: There's massive internal bleeding. We have to get him to Sickbay.
PICARD: How could this happen?
LEECH: It will happen again if you don't cooperate.
(Quickly, Picard disarms him and thumps him for good measure)
LEECH: You struck me! How dare you! You're going to be sorry! I promise you, Redblock isn't going to like this!
(Leech runs from the office)
CRUSHER: If we don't get him to sickbay, he will die!
PICARD: Exit! Computer, exit! (nothing) Data, try the other exit in the hall.
DATA: Computer, identify exit.
DATA: There is a programming malfunction. The computer refuses to identify the exits.
CRUSHER: I'm losing his pulse!
PICARD: Computer, this is the Captain! Computer, identify exit!
RIKER: Standard orbit, Mister Worf.
WORF: Aye, sir. Standard orbit.
RIKER: Riker to Holodeck.
LAFORGE [OC]: Nothing yet, Commander.
RIKER: We're running out of time.
RIKER [OC]: The Jarada will expect the Captain's greeting.
LAFORGE: Well you may have to stall them.
CRUSHER: It's no use. It's just not there.
PICARD: Suggestions, Mister Data?
DATA: I am at a loss, sir. We are in a holodeck-created building of 1941. The computer refuses to accept voice commands.
The controls for the environment are, therefore, not accessible.
CRUSHER: I could use some light.
(Data carries a standard lamp over, and is baffled when it goes out because the plug has come out of the wall. Picard plugs it in nearer the patient)
(Leech returns with a gunman and a fat man)
REDBLOCK: Good day, Mister Hill. My name is Cyrus Redblock. I hope you don't mind us dropping in.
(A very poor, skinny version of Sydney Greenstreet)
PICARD: I see I have no choice.
REDBLOCK: Life is an endless stream of choices. Unfortunately, you have chosen to make my life more difficult.
I don't suppose you'd be foolish enough to hide it here.
PICARD: I don't suppose so.
REDBLOCK: Still, I'm sure you won't mind if we take a look around.
CRUSHER: I wish you'd quit asking, since it's obvious you're going to do it anyway. It's just a waste of time.
REDBLOCK: Good manners, Madam, are never a waste of time. Civility, gentlemen, always civility. Get that stiff out of here.
CRUSHER: He's not dead.
REDBLOCK: From his pallor, he soon will be.
THUG: You want I should throw him in the garbage, boss?
REDBLOCK: The room next door will be good enough for now.
PICARD: Don't touch him.
REDBLOCK: Which one struck you?
LEECH: It was Hill.
(Leech pistol-whips Picard)
REDBLOCK: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. A Newtonian truism which you have obviously neglected.
MCNARY [OC]: Dix, you in there?
(The Thug greets the policeman and takes the bottle of drink away from him, then his gun)
MCNARY: I saw your light, figured you were working late. Guess I was right. Nice company you're keeping, Dix.
You forget to take the trash out this morning?
(That earns him a punch in the solar plexus)
REDBLOCK: I'm a tolerant man, but I do not tolerate disrespect.
DATA: Your devotion to etiquette is highly admirable, sir. However, your methods leave much to be desired.
REDBLOCK: What have we here?
LEECH: Looks like a ghost.
REDBLOCK: Yeah. Where do you suppose he's from?
LEECH: Where were you hatched, anyway?
DATA: I was created on a planet
DATA: South America.
REDBLOCK: I've been all over this world and I've never seen anything like you.
PICARD: He's not from this world. None of us are. We are from a world, we're from a world of fabulous riches.
A world where there are objects far greater than the one you seek.
LEECH: That's ridiculous! You're a private dick. We've met before and you never even mentioned any of this.
MCNARY: He's right, Dix. That's pretty weak stuff. I wouldn't even buy that line of guff.
PICARD: I am not Dixon Hill. I just look like Dixon Hill.
DATA: He speaks the truth, sir. From your point of view, he is only a facsimile, a knock-off, a cheap imitation.
PICARD: Thank you, Mister Data.
DATA: Sorry sir, that did not come out quite the way I intended.
REDBLOCK: Very, very, good. What wonderful fiction. Quite entertaining. I admire your skill at trying to obfuscate our sense of reality.
DATA: It is you who are not real, sir.
DATA: It is you who are imaginary characters derived from a work of fiction.
MCNARY: Give it up, fellas. These guys are too smart to fall for that story.
DATA: I am afraid you are not real either, Lieutenant.
LEECH: I don't want to hear any more of this. You're making me crazy. Let me shoot them, Mister Redblock. Let me kill them, one by one.
REDBLOCK: What an interesting situation. Perhaps we should test this theory by killing one of them.
CRUSHER: You've already done that. This man is dying. This whole thing is senseless.
REDBLOCK: Hardly. Senseless killing is immoral. But killing for a purpose can be quite often ingenious.
LEECH: Well said, Mister Redblock. What is our purpose?
REDBLOCK: We are on a quest for knowledge, Mister Leech. We want the item.
PICARD: We don't have it.
LEECH: Shall I kill him?
REDBLOCK: No, kill the woman.
PICARD: Redblock. I have the item.
REDBLOCK: At last. I knew it. God, man, you are a character you are. Waiting until the last moment, testing my resolve.
All right, where is it?
PICARD: I'll explain. But first, tell Leech to back off.
REDBLOCK: Put the gun down, Mister Leech.
LEECH: But I so much want to kill her.
REDBLOCK: Maybe later. It won't harm us to listen to Mister Hill.
MCNARY: Don't make any deals with that slime, Dix!
(The Thug knocks him down again)
REDBLOCK: All right, let's begin. Make your thoughts fruitful and your words eloquent. Because I don't have to tell you your
lovely lady friend's life depends upon it.
PICARD: There is a price.
REDBLOCK: By God, I knew you were a man of stripe. All right, what is it?
PICARD: Mister Whalen's life. You must help us to save him.
TROI: We can't delay much longer.
RIKER: We're going to have to tell them something. Open hailing frequencies.
TASHA: Frequencies open, sir.
RIKER: This is Commander Riker, aboard the Enterprise. We demand that you (ear splitting noise) Cut that off!
They're not going to be satisfied with anyone less than the Captain.
LAFORGE: La Forge to Bridge.
RIKER [OC]: Riker here.
LAFORGE: We think we have something, sir. I'll let Ensign Crusher explain.
WESLEY: The bi-converter interface has been affected
RIKER: Forget the explanation! Can you do it?
WESLEY: I don't know if I should. If this isn't done correctly, the programme could abort and everyone inside could vanish.
RIKER: Do you need more time to study it?
WESLEY [OC]: Whether we do it now or later, the risk is the same.
RIKER: Do it.
PICARD: If we can find away of getting him to our Sickbay by fixing our computer
REDBLOCK: Computer? I don't know that word.
DATA: An electronic or mechanical apparatus capable of carrying out repetitious or complex mathematical operations at high speed.
Computers are used to control, process, perform, or store
LEECH: Enough! Let me kill him. He's really beginning to irritate me.
(Wesley does something, and the office briefly turns into an arctic snowstorm)
CRUSHER: Captain, the exit.
PICARD: That's it. The way into our world.
REDBLOCK: Remarkable. Is this a two-way passage? Can one enter your world and return to this one simply by stepping through?
PICARD: Oh, yes. Allow us to help Mister Whalen, and we will return with the item.
REDBLOCK: You really are a scamp, aren't you. Do you actually think I'd stay here
DATA: If you were going to go through yourself, sir, that is not possible.
REDBLOCK: One look at you, sir, is proof that anything is possible. Step back, Mister Hill. I'd shoot you myself, but I don't want to deprive
my assistant of his greatest pleasure. After we've gone, kill them all. Make sure the bodies are never found.
MCNARY: You're insane. You think you can kill a cop and get away with it?
REDBLOCK: Why not? I've done it before. Come on, Mister Leech. Au revoir et bonne chance, mon ami. Our destiny awaits.
REDBLOCK: Another world. A whole new world to plunder!
(Leech looks down. They disappearing from the feet upwards)
REDBLOCK: What is this? What are they doing? They can't do this to me! Don't they know who I am? I'm Cyrus Redblock! Cyrus Redblock!
(The corridor is now empty)
(Data takes the gun off the Thug, and squeezes the barrel closed)
DATA: With your permission, sir?
PICARD: Permission granted.
(Data thumps the Thug, very hard)
PICARD: Data, pick up Whalen. Take him to Sickbay.
DATA: And you, sir?
PICARD: I'll follow. You go now.
(Data, Crusher and Whalen leave)
PICARD: I wish I could take you with me.
MCNARY: Someone has to book this creep. Once a cop always a cop, I guess.
PICARD: I have to go.
MCNARY: So this is the big goodbye. Tell me something, Dixon. When you've gone. will this world still exist?
Will my wife and kids still be waiting for me at home?
PICARD: I honestly don't know. Good-bye my friend.
RIKER: Are you ready, sir?
PICARD: As ready as I'll ever be, Number One. Open hailing frequencies.
TASHA: Frequencies open.
(Picard loosens his tie, puts his hands on his hips and takes a deep breath)
PICARD: This is Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the USS Enterprise. Aaaaard klaxon leeeeesss blag blan ar'nik ka'nik.
Aaaaard krasulaaa. Rassss trassss trasulaaaah.
JARADAN [OC[: You have honoured us with your words of greeting. A new day dawns between us.
(Applause from the Bridge crew)
RIKER: So, did you have a nice vacation?
PICARD: It was a nice place to visit, Number One, but I wouldn't want to die there.
LAFORGE: So, Data, how was it?
DATA: It was raining in the city by the bay. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the slime
DATA: Sorry, sir.
PICARD: Lieutenant, take us out of orbit.
LAFORGE: Aye, sir.
PICARD: And, Mister La Forge
PICARD: Step on it.