Blood Fever
Stardate: 50537.2
Original Airdate:5 February, 1997 

Captain's log, Stardate 50537.2. Routine scans of an uninhabited star system have revealed the presence of gallicite, a very rare substance, on the fourth planet.


TORRES: If these readings are right, we're looking at a yield of nearly a kiloton. That would be enough gallicite to completely refit the warp coils.
PARIS: They sure could use it with all the damage they've taken the past two years.
CHAKOTAY: Is there anyone in the area who might consider this their property?
TUVOK: They are indications that a colony once existed on the planet's surface. However, it appears to be long abandoned.
JANEWAY: All right, let's stake a claim. I'll leave this in your hands, B'Elanna. Use whatever resources or personnel you need. You might want to talk to Mister Neelix. I believe he spent some time working in a mining colony.
TORRES: Aye, Captain.


TORRES: These tunnels are clearly artificial. Someone else must've been interested in digging up this gallicite.
VORIK: That should make it easier to access the deposits.
TORRES: True, but we have to be careful. There's been a lot of seismic activity down there. Look, theses tunnels are completely collapsed. We should bring Tom Paris on the away team. He's had quite a lot of rock climbing experience.
VORIK: I have spent several summers exploring the Osana caverns, which involved some quite treacherous climbing.
TORRES: Great. You two can be our safety experts.
VORIK: Have we completed our preparations to your satisfaction?
TORRES: We're done here, yes.
VORIK: Let me take this opportunity to declare koon-ut so'lik, my desire to become your mate.
VORIK: In human terms, I am proposing marriage. Do you accept?
TORRES: This is, er, a little sudden, isn't it? Besides, I thought that Vulcan marriages were arranged. Don't you already have somebody back home?
VORIK: She has sufficient reason to consider me lost, and has most likely chosen another mate. It's appropriate for me to do the same.
TORRES: And you've chosen me?
VORIK: I have come to greatly admire not only your impressive technical skills, but also your bravery and sense of moral duty, all excellent qualities in a prospective mate.
TORRES: But you're Vulcan. I am half-Klingon. I really can't imagine
VORIK: Perhaps we are not an obvious match. However, our differences would complement each other. You've often expressed frustration with your Klingon temper. My mental discipline would help you control it. Furthermore, I feel that
TORRES: Wait, please. Please, I'm, I see that you've given this a lot of, er, logical thought and I really am very flattered, but my answer is no. I'm sorry.
VORIK: B'Elanna! You may wish to reconsider. Your choices for a mate are currently limited to seventy three male crew members on this ship, some of whom are already unavailable.
TORRES: I'll worry about my choices myself, thank you.
VORIK: I should also remind you that many humanoid species are unable to withstand Klingon mating practices
TORRES: Okay, that's enough.
VORIK: whereas my superior Vulcan strength would make me a very suitable partner.


KES: Here are the results of his cortical scan.
TORRES: So what's wrong with him?
EMH: In addition to a dislocated jaw, Ensign Vorik seems to be suffering from a neurocemical imbalance.
TORRES: Meaning what?
EMH: I believe I should discuss that with the patient privately. You're going through the Pon farr, aren't you?
VORIK: That's an extremely personal question, Doctor.
EMH: Yes, I'm aware that Vulcans prefer to keep their mating practices very much to themselves. There's almost nothing in the medical database beyond a few observations made by Starfleet doctors over the years. Your symptoms, the chemical imbalance and loss of emotional control are consistent with those observations. Have you been eating and sleeping normally?
VORIK: I knew there was something wrong. I was hoping it wasn't this.
EMH: I assume this is your first Pon farr? There's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's a normal biological function. I'll do what I can to help you through it, but I'll need a little more information.
VORIK: We do not discuss it.
EMH: I'm afraid you'll have to. You have a severe imbalance in your brain chemistry. If it gets much worse, it could become life threatening. Now I need to know how Vulcans deal with this condition.
VORIK: 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.
EMH: But in your case, being stranded halfway across the galaxy, that's impossible.
EMH: So them, logically, you try to find a mate here. I assume that explains your behaviour toward Lieutenant Torres.
VORIK: I have always had great respect for B'Elanna. I hope she isn't too upset with me.
EMH: With Lieutenant Torres, upset is a relative term. In any case, we're going to have to try to find another way to treat your condition. Let's start with a microcellular scan.
VORIK: No! I don't want medical treatment. I will resolve this myself.
EMH: How do you intend to do that?
VORIK: There are certain 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 my situation privately.
EMH: Until I have a better idea of 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.
VORIK: Thank you.

EMH: I'm concerned about Ensign Vorik's cortical readings. One returns to normal levels, then another one spikes. It's chaotic. As if the brain's regulatory system had simply shut down. I can't tell if he's making any progress with these meditations. I thought maybe you could suggest other possible treatments.
TUVOK: I cannot.
EMH: Is that because you don't know, or because you don't want to discuss it?
TUVOK: For both of those reasons there is little help that I can offer. It is inappropriate for me to involve myself in Ensign Vorik's personal situation.
EMH: For such an intellectually enlightened race, Vulcans have a remarkably Victorian attitude about sex.
TUVOK: That is a very human judgement, Doctor.
EMH: Then here's a Vulcan one. I fail to see the logic in perpetuating ignorance about a basic biological function.
TUVOK: There is nothing logical about the Pon farr. It is a time when instinct and emotion dominate over reason. It cannot be analysed by the rational mind, nor cured by conventional medicine. Anyone who has experienced it understands that it must simply be followed to its natural resolution.
EMH: Which is what, exactly?
TUVOK: There are three options that I am aware of. Taking a mate which Ensign Vorik has already attempted, the ritual combat which does not apply to his situation
EMH: Combat?
TUVOK: An ancient tradition of fighting for one's mate which as I have said, is not relevant here. The third alternative is the intensive meditation he has chosen to try.
EMH: Isn't there anything we can do to help him with that?
TUVOK: I believe that any interference would be unwelcome and counterproductive. You must allow him to face this challenge privately. If he possesses enough discipline to reach a point of psychological resolution, then his chemical imbalance should correct itself.
EMH: The Vulcan brain never ceases to amaze me. Thank you, Lieutenant. You've been a great help.

[Transporter Room]

TORRES: Ah, you two are awfully prompt.
PARIS: Impressed?
TORRES: Oh, it'll take a little more work than that to impress me, Lieutenant.
PARIS: Yes, ma'am.
TORRES: All right. Let me show you our target area.
NEELIX: Shouldn't we wait for Ensign Vorik?
TORRES: He's not coming. This seems to be the most accessible vein of gallicite. We'll beam to the surface, then go down through this passageway until it dead-ends in this chamber. Then we'll descend almost fifty metres, almost straight down. Do you see any problem with that, Tom?
PARIS: Well, as long as we go slow and easy, we'll be fine.
TORRES: Good. You're all set, Neelix?
NEELIX: I've got a laser drill, sample cases, geo-spectral analysis kit.
TORRES: In other words, you're ready. Let's go.

[Planet Surface]

TORRES: This way.
NEELIX: Look over here. This must've been the colony.
PARIS: Not more than 50 or 60 years ago. Hardly enough time for these structures to decay so badly.
NEELIX: They must've suffered some kind of disaster, maybe an earthquake.
TORRES: Well, we'll send down an archaeological team later on. Right now we've got our own work to do.
PARIS: Are we in a rush?
TORRES: I just don't see any point in wasting time. Unless of course, you want to stall to put off demonstrating your climbing expertise.
PARIS: Grab your gear, and try to keep up.


NEELIX: No matter how real a holodeck programme may seem, it just doesn't get your heart pumping like a genuine physical challenge. It's exhilarating.
TORRES: If you're looking for exhilaration
NEELIX: It didn't look quite so steep on the sensor map, did it?
TORRES: We're prepared for this. We can handle it. Let's go.
NEELIX: All this Starfleet technology almost takes the fun out of it.
PARIS: If you mean the fun of wondering whether your anchor will hold while you're dangling over a cliff, I think I'll pass. See you below.
TORRES: (to Neelix) You go first. I'll follow you.
PARIS: Watch your footing!
TORRES: You're right. My heart is pumping faster.
NEELIX: Wait till we climb back up with a pack full of gallicite.
TORRES: Oh, I'm just getting warmed up.
(Neelix loses control and tumbles to the base of the cliff)
PARIS: No! Are you hurt?
TORRES: You, you almost got us both killed.
NEELIX: I'm sorry. I don't know what happened.
PARIS: Careful. Careful. You might have broken it.
TORRES: You had no business rigging safety equipment when you had no idea what you were doing!
PARIS: Calm down. This wasn't Neelix's fault. I saw him drive the piton and it was solid. It must've malfunctioned. You are hurt.
TORRES: I'm fine, no thanks to you two. I would have been better coming down here alone.
PARIS: Don't you think you're overreacting a little bit?
TORRES: Just drag him to the ship. I'll get the gallicite myself.
NEELIX: We can't leave you down here alone!
PARIS: He's right. Let's contact the ship.
TORRES: You get your hands off of me.
PARIS: Ow! B'Elanna! What is wrong with you?
TORRES: Nothing. I'm in charge of this mission. I'll finish it.
PARIS: Wait!
NEELIX: Go ahead, Tom. I'll be all right here.
PARIS: The last thing we need is for all three of us to split up. Paris to Voyager. We've got problems down here. I haven't been able to contact her. She's either out of communications range, or just not responding.


JANEWAY: Where is she now?
PARIS [OC]: Last location I can verify


PARIS: is about ten metres below us. I tried to stop her from leaving, Captain, but she got very hostile and bit me.


CHAKOTAY: She bit you?
PARIS [OC]: And she seemed to be enjoying it, in a Klingon kind of way. She's really not herself.
JANEWAY: Any luck in getting a transporter lock on them?
LANG: No. They're too far beneath the surface.
JANEWAY: Tom, I'm sending an away team down to you. We'll get Neelix out of there, then go after B'Elanna. Tuvok, you're with Chakotay.
TUVOK: Captain, I'd like to request a short delay. I may have an explanation for Lieutenant Torres's behaviour.

[Vorik's quarters]

VORIK: Go away. I said, go away! I'm sorry, sir.
TUVOK: No, I must apologise for the intrusion, particularly at this time.
VORIK: Then you know?
TUVOK: Yes. I regret that I must ask you some uncomfortable questions regarding Lieutenant Torres.
VORIK: Yes, sir?
TUVOK: It is important for me to know specifically what happened between the two of you. Was there any physical contact?
TUVOK: Please describe your actions.
VORIK: 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. Im, I'm not certain why.
TUVOK: I believe you were initiating a telepathic mating bond.
VORIK: I didn't know it could happen that way. I wanted to bond with her, that much I remember clearly.
TUVOK: Apparently you've succeeded. Lieutenant Torres has been displaying unusual behaviour, very much like the early stages of Pon farr.
VORIK: How is that possible? She's not Vulcan.
TUVOK: There have been instances of Vulcans mating with members of other races.
VORIK: But she rejected me forcefully.
TUVOK: Even a brief moment of bonding may have been enough to disrupt her self-control, as the Pon farr does in us. In a half-Klingon, the effects may be even more extreme.
VORIK: I have to go to her.
TUVOK: You cannot. Lieutenant Torres is out of contact, on the planet.
VORIK: I'll find her. B'Elanna needs me and I need her.
TUVOK: It is a far more sensible strategy to get her safely back to Voyager, and then decide on the proper resolution.
VORIK: The resolution must be that we become mates. It is only logical.
TUVOK: Lieutenant Torres has never been a great follower of logic.
VORIK: You think she'll reject me again?
TUVOK: It might be wise to continue your meditative efforts.
VORIK: I'll do my best, sir.


TUVOK: It is difficult to estimate how soon her condition will become life threatening.
PARIS: Life threatening? She could die from this?
PARIS: And you've gone through it every seven years of your adult life?
TUVOK: You only need to be concerned with Lieutenant Torres's situation.
PARIS: Right. Well, it looks like finding her won't be easy. Scanning range is limited to about twenty metres, and even that's not too reliable.
CHAKOTAY: You said she was going after the gallicite, so we'll do the same, and hope it leads us to her.
NEELIX: I'm ready to go, Commander.
CHAKOTAY: Let's go.

PARIS: B'Elanna.
TORRES: Tom. Come here. You've got to see this.
TUVOK: How are you feeling, Lieutenant?
TORRES: Fine. This is an active power system. It must've been built by the colonists.
CHAKOTAY: We'll send somebody down here to study it more closely. Right now we've got to get you back to the ship.
TORRES: No, no. This is my discovery. It's my mission. You don't understand. This is the source of the gallicite readings. These conduits are covered with gallicite plating. It's exactly what we need, and I found it!
TUVOK: Yes, Lieutenant, you've succeeded in your mission. Now you must tend to yourself. You're experiencing a condition known as Pon farr.
TORRES: Pon what?
TUVOK: Your emotional balance has been disrupted. You may not be in control of your more aggressive instincts.
TORRES: I lost my temper for a minute, that's all. Why are you all staring at me like that?
TUVOK: Please, come back with us to the ship.
TORRES: Just leave me alone.
ISHAN: Who are you? What do you want?
CHAKOTAY: My name is Chakotay. I assure you, we have no hostile intent.
ISHAN: She does.
CHAKOTAY: B'Elanna, please.
TUVOK: She is suffering from a chemical imbalance, which is affecting her behaviour.
ISHAN: An imbalance? Is it contagious?
TUVOK: No. However, she does need our assistance.
CHAKOTAY: We'd be glad to take her and leave your territory.
ISHAN: Not before you tell me why you came here.
CHAKOTAY: We only came to find some gallicite. We thought this planet was uninhabited.
ISHAN: Then why are you carrying weapons?
CHAKOTAY: It's standard procedure for any mission into unfamiliar territory.
ISHAN: Let me see one. And what is that? Some sort of scanning device?
PARIS: Yes. It's called a tricorder.
ISHAN: But it didn't detect any life-forms here?
PARIS: No, it didn't.
TORRES: What's that?
ISHAN: Seismic alert. That wall is unstable. Be careful.
ALIEN: Watch out.
PARIS: B'Elanna, don't! B'Elanna!
TORRES: There must be a hidden door, some kind of a passageway.
PARIS: I'm not picking up anything like that. Or any life signs.
TORRES: Then you're using it wrong.
PARIS: Yeah, that must be it. Or else these aliens are generating some kind of interference so we can't detect them. We have to get out of here before they come back.
TORRES: We can't leave Chakotay and Tuvok.
PARIS: If you have any ideas how to find them, I'm listening! We have to get back to the ship and get some help, for them and for you.
TORRES: Why does everybody keep saying there's something wrong with me?
PARIS: I'll try to explain it to you, but we've got to get moving.


EMH: There. Your serotonin levels are stabilised for the moment, but I'm concerned about these fluctuations. It's becoming more difficult to compensate.
VORIK: I will increase my efforts to control them, Doctor.
EMH: I'd like you to consider an alternative treatment I've been developing.
VORIK: No. I will deal with this myself.
EMH: Ensign, your life is at risk.
VORIK: 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.
EMH: Give yourself a little credit. You're doing the best you can under unusually difficult circumstances. If you were back on Vulcan, you'd have your family and friends there to help you.
VORIK: I shouldn't need any help.
EMH: I know that self-sufficiency is very important to a Vulcan but there is nothing shameful in getting a little guidance every once in a while. I'd like you to consider my alternative, and then you can decide whether or not to try it.

[Holodeck - Paxau Resort]

EMH: Ensign.
VORIK: I don't understand the purpose of coming here.
EMH: Trust me. Ensign Vorik, I'd like you to meet T'Pera.
VORIK: Surely you're not suggesting that she become my mate.
EMH: Well, I wouldn't recommend a lifetime commitment, but she might be able to help you with your immediate problem.
VORIK: She's a hologram. She isn't real.
EMH: Then I assume you have the same low regard for me.
VORIK: You're a skilled physician, Doctor, but let me point out the limitations to your own experience with physical matters.
EMH: I believe we're discussing your sexual difficulties at the moment, Ensign. And this holographic mate is the best solution I can think of.
VORIK: She won't be the same as a real mate.
EMH: The difference is all in your mind, which, if I've understood you and Mister Tuvok correctly, is where the Pon Farr must ultimately 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 was still require considerable mental discipline on your part.
VORIK: There is a certain logic to your suggestion, Doctor. I will try.
EMH: Good. Well then, I'll leave the two of you alone.


TORRES: Tuvok must be wrong about this Pon Farr business. It doesn't make any sense.
PARIS: It does explain how you've been acting.
TORRES: I don't see what's so strange.
PARIS: How about starting a fight with a group of armed aliens, shouting at Neelix, giving me this. If I remember my Klingon customs, biting someone on the face means
TORRES: 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?
PARIS: When we get back to the ship, the doctor should be able to help. Or there's always Vorik.
TORRES: I am not helping that Vulcan petaQ! The idea of bonding with him, it's ludicrous! What's this?
PARIS: The tremor must've shaken the rocks loose.
TORRES: Well, they're in the way.
PARIS: Hold it! We don't know how stable this tunnel is. An energy blast might bring the rest of it down on our heads.
TORRES: Let go!
PARIS: No. I think I should keep this.
TORRES: Never pick a fight with a Klingon, Tom.
PARIS: I'm not going to fight with you, B'Elanna.
TORRES: Afraid I'll break your arm? You should be.
PARIS: B'Elanna, stop it! This isn't about the gun. This is about sex. But that's not gonna happen right now.
TORRES: I think it is. See, I've picked up your scent, Tom. I've tasted your blood.
PARIS: No. No. I'm your friend, and I have to watch out for you when your judgement's been impaired. If you let these instincts take over now, you'll hate yourself, and me too for taking advantage of you. I won't do that.
TORRES: Maybe, maybe we should continue separately.
TORRES: You don't know how strong, how hard it is to fight this urge.
PARIS: Are you telling me that I'm impossible to resist?
TORRES: I wouldn't go that far.
PARIS: Good. Come on.

ISHAN: I want to know about the vessel which brought you here. Your propulsion systems, weapons, sensors, everything. You have an artificial implant in your arm.
TUVOK: Yes. It was necessary to replace the elbow joint after I was injured in a combat simulation.
ISHAN: I also want to know about your medical technology, scientific advances, artificial intelligence.
CHAKOTAY: I'd be glad to tell you all about my people and learn about yours. There's no need to hold us here for interrogation.
ISHAN: You should expect no better treatment after invading Sakari territory.
CHAKOTAY: As I said, we didn't know there was anyone down here.
ISHAN: Yes, so you've said.
TUVOK: Your people have clearly made every effort to avoid detection by outsiders. Is it so difficult to believe that those measures were effective in our case?
ISHAN: If they had been fully effective, you wouldn't have found anything interesting enough to bring you here.
CHAKOTAY: That's something we can help you with.
ISHAN: What?
CHAKOTAY: We can show you how we detected the gallicite, so you can disguise it better. We can also help you eliminate the last traces of the ruins on the surface, so no one else will be curious about them.
ISHAN: You've seen the ruins?
CHAKOTAY: Yes. I assume the Sakari once lived there.
ISHAN: Long ago, before I wan born.
TUVOK: What happened?
ISHAN: My people never even knew who the invaders were or why they attacked. It was all over in less than an hour. Some of the colonists were fortunate enough to escape into the mines. We've lived here ever since where it's safe. If the invaders ever learned of our existence here, they might return.
CHAKOTAY: I can certainly understand your caution, but let us demonstrate our good faith by helping you protect yourselves. Then we'll go and never bother you again.
ISHAN: Agreed. But you will be supervised at all times.

PARIS: We're almost to the next passageway. Can you make it?
TORRES: Not much choice.
PARIS: It's all right. We'll find a way out.
TORRES: We should use that weapon. It's worth the risk now.
PARIS: I might agree with you if I still had it. It's buried somewhere under all that.
PARIS: Sorry. Try to stay calm. I know it's hard.
TORRES: No. 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.
PARIS: Well, I'm making an exception. I can't let you do this.
TORRES: Oh, 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.
PARIS: You're right. I can't.
TORRES: Then don't push me away.
PARIS: Oh, believe me, I'd like to, but I know this isn't really you. You've made it clear that you're not interested, and I have to accept that's how you feel, even now.
TORRES: No. No, it isn't. I was, I was just afraid to admit it. You see, I've wanted this for so long. Just let it happen.
PARIS: I hope someday you'll say that to me and mean it.
TORRES: You'd let me go insane rather than help me?
PARIS: You know that's not true.
TORRES: You just stay away from me.


EMH: You called, Ensign? Is there a problem?
VORIK: Not at all.
EMH: You seem much improved.
VORIK: Yes. Your holodeck therapy was very effective. I must compliment you on an innovative solution.
EMH: I'm pleased to hear that. This could be a viable alternative for space-faring Vulcans. When we get back, I'm sure Starfleet medical will, never hear about your personal experiences from me.
VORIK: Thank you, Doctor. May I return to duty?
EMH: Soon enough, Ensign. I'll need to run a few more cortical scans.


EMH: Mister Vorik's biochemical readings are stabilising. They're not back to normal yet, but I believe he's got through the worst of it. I'm ready to release him from Sickbay.
JANEWAY: Good work, Doctor. Will this treatment help B'Elanna as well?
EMH: I don't see why not.
JANEWAY: As soon as the away team gets back, I'll send her straight to you.
EMH: I'll get to work designing the half-Klingon version of the programme. There's a copious amount of information in the cultural database about their mating practices. Did you know that fracturing a clavicle on the wedding night is actually considered a blessing on the marriage?
JANEWAY: As a matter of fact, I didn't.
EMH: I'm planning to do a comparative study of all these mating rituals. It really is fascinating, from a socio-biological point of view.
JANEWAY: I'm sure B'Elanna will appreciate your efforts, Doctor.


TORRES: Where are we?
PARIS: Still stuck in the cave, I'm afraid.
TORRES: The caves? The gallicite. Where's my tricorder?
PARIS: No. We're not looking for the gallicite anymore. We're trying to get back to the ship, remember?
TORRES: No, I don't.
CHAKOTAY: Are you two all right?
PARIS: B'Elanna needs help. We've got to get her out of here.

[Planet Surface]

CHAKOTAY: Chakotay to Voyager. Please respond. Still nothing.
PARIS: What's the matter? Why aren't they answering?
CHAKOTAY: There must be some kind of communications problem. I'm sure they'll clear it up soon.
TUVOK: It may not be soon enough. I am concerned about the rapid progression of her symptoms. You must help her now, Mister Paris. If she does not resolve the Pon farr, she will die.
PARIS: B'Elanna, I know this is a pretty bizarre situation, probably not what either one of us had in mind, but it's too late to worry about that now.
PARIS: What?
TORRES: Be quiet.
PARIS: So this is the part where you throw heavy objects at me?
TORRES: Maybe later.
PARIS: I'm not sure exactly what I'm supposed to do.
TORRES: Well, what are you doing?
PARIS: Enjoying myself?
TORRES: Then show it.
VORIK: You are my mate, not his!
TORRES: What are you doing here?
VORIK: I've come to claim you, to fulfil our bond, and if necessary, to face my rival. Lieutenant Tuvok!
TUVOK: Ensign.
VORIK: Sir, I declare koon-ut-kal-if-fee.
TUVOK: The ritual challenge. He intends to fight to win his mate.
PARIS: You want a fight? You've got one.
CHAKOTAY: Hold on, Tom. There's not going to be any challenge. Are you responsible for the ship being out of contact?
VORIK: It was necessary to disable the communications, transports and shuttles. No one will keep me from my mate!
TORRES: I am not your mate!
VORIK: We will soon decide that.
TORRES: If anyone is going to smash your arrogant little face, then I will! I take your challenge myself.
TUVOK: She has the right to choose her own defender, even herself.
CHAKOTAY: Just hold on. Neither of you are thinking straight right now.
TUVOK: They are following their instincts, and I suggest we allow them to do so.
CHAKOTAY: You mean let them fight.
TUVOK: It is logical. Both must resolve their Pon farr before it kills them. We cannot wait to hear from Voyager.
PARIS: They'll tear each other to pieces.
TUVOK: The risk of injury seems preferable to the certainty of dying from a chemical imbalance. Commander, I see no alternative but to follow Vulcan tradition.
CHAKOTAY: All right.
TUVOK: Begin.

PARIS: It's over, isn't it?
TUVOK: 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 improve their camouflage and they've agreed to supply us with a generous quantity of gallicite.


PARIS: Deck two. So, looks like you're feeling better. You back on duty?
TORRES: Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Thanks. The refit is going well. We should have new warp coils by the end of the week.
PARIS: Oh, good. Glad to hear it. Computer, halt turbolift. Look, this is ridiculous. We are going to be together on this ship for a long time.
TORRES: You're right. We have to pretend that the whole mission didn't happen.
PARIS: But something did happen, B'Elanna.
TORRES: Look, Tom, I really appreciate what you did, what you were willing to do for me but as far as I'm concerned, I was under the influence of some weird Vulcan chemical imbalance, and, and whatever I did, whatever I said, it wasn't me.
PARIS: Yeah, I know. You're afraid that your big, scary Klingon side might have been showing. Well, I saw it up close, and you know, it wasn't so terrible. In fact, I wouldn't mind seeing it again someday. Computer, resume.
TORRES: Careful what you wish for, Lieutenant.

[Planet Surface]

JANEWAY: Your call sounded urgent.
CHAKOTAY: I think there's something you should see, Captain. We found this as we were clearing away the ruins. Undoubtedly, one of the invaders who destroyed this colony.
JANEWAY: The Borg!

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