| [Holodeck - Fair
(The steam train disgorges trunks and
passengers at Cuan Someanta, the sort of idyllic cod-Irish town that
exists only in the folk memory of several-generations-removed descendants of US
Irish immigrants. Sheep are driven down the cobbled street, and a young
couple clip past in a small two-wheeled pony carriage. Paris is in
local clothing, and he is greeted by a servant girl sweeping the
pavement outside her master's house.)
Good morning, Tom.
PARIS: Good morning, Grace.
(He is accosted by a middle-aged man in a bowler hat.)
SEAMUS: So, where you heading?
PARIS: Sullivan's. Care to join me?
SEAMUS: Ah, I wish I could, but there's a bit of a problem.
PARIS: Oh, really?
SEAMUS: Well, you see, Tommy-me-boy, the Good Lord blessed me with a
fine wife. I'll never forget the day I met her. I was on me way to the
Fair in Dooleen, or was it Kilkee? There's some fine trout fishing to
be had in Kilkee this time of year.
PARIS: Who said anything about trout?
SEAMUS: Timothy Ryan, God rest his soul. He was one for the trout. The
poor man's been dead a fortnight. Some say he had the croup, but don't
you believe it. The widow Moore gave him the Evil Eye.
PARIS: And your point?
SEAMUS: Me wife and I, well, we've hit a bit of a rough patch. A better
woman never walked the face of the earth.
PARIS: She threw you out again.
SEAMUS: With nothing but the clothes on me back.
PARIS: How much?
SEAMUS: A shilling or two should suffice.
PARIS: Keep the change.
SEAMUS: God bless you, Tommy-me-boy
(Kim is over by the flower-seller's stall. He is in a neat jacket and straw boater.)
PARIS: Harry, weren't you supposed to meet me at Sullivan's?
KIM: Sorry. I got distracted by the, er, scenery. This is Maggie.
PARIS: We've met. Could you excuse us?
MAGGIE: Charmed to have met you, Harry.
KIM: Charmed. What's the hurry?
PARIS: A word to the wise. Stay away from Maggie O'Halloran. She's
promised to a pig farmer with a very large rake.
KIM: Does she have a sister?
PARIS: Wooden teeth.
KIM: Nothing an adjustment to the holomatrix wouldn't fix.
PARIS: No, no. I'm not changing a thing. Fair Haven is perfect just the
way it is.
KIM: Tommy boy, you forgot the leprechauns.
PARIS: No. No leprechauns, no aliens, no starships. I want this to be a
place where the crew can unwind.
(The parish priest rings his bicycle bell and dismounts.)
EMH: Morning, lads.
PARIS: Ah. Heard any good confessions lately?
EMH: Doctor-patient confidentiality, Mister Paris.
PARIS: Harry hasn't seen Sullivan's yet. You care to join us?
EMH: Don't mind if I do. I'll need to leave no later than thirteen
PARIS: Medical emergency?
EMH: Not exactly. I'm working on my homily for Sunday's mass and I
expect both you sinners to be in attendance.
PARIS: He's kidding, right?
KIM: You wanted authenticity.
Everybody, place your bets.
SEAMUS: Three bob on Liam.
PARIS: Three bob it is.
EMH: Five shillings on Liam.
PARIS: You're going to hurt Harry's feelings.
EMH: Very well. Two shillings on Mister Kim and I'll pray for a
SEAMUS: Excuse me, Father, but I'm needing a bit of counsel.
EMH: I'm off duty right now.
SEAMUS: But I've broken the fifth commandment again.
EMH: Say ten Our Fathers and call me in the morning.
(Seamus blesses himself.)
(The arm wrestling match starts.)
EMH: Come on, come on Mister Kim, show him what for. You can
(Janeway is in uniform. She approaches the bartender.)
MICHAEL: What'll it be?
JANEWAY: I'm looking for some friends of mine.
MICHAEL: We're all friends here.
JANEWAY: Well, then, have you seen Tom Paris?
MICHAEL: He's right over there, with young Harry. Poor sod. I'm afraid
no one's whipped Liam in three years.
JANEWAY: There's a first time for everything.
MICHAEL: An optimist, are you?
JANEWAY: A realist.
EMH: Come on, Ensign, try. Try!
SEAMUS: Come on, me boy. Push! Push!
KIM: I'm trying!
EMH: Come on. Try harder.
SEAMUS: You got him. You got him.
(Kim's hand is nearly on the table.)
EMH: You're losing.
SEAMUS: What in
God's name? Come on, Liam. Push!
(Kim wins the match.)
KIM: Yes! Yes!
EMH: I knew you could do it, Ensign.
JANEWAY: So this is the programme I've been hearing so much about.
PARIS: Welcome, weary traveller.
JANEWAY: You have outdone yourself this time. Everything is authentic,
except for one tiny detail.
JANEWAY: The harp on the sign. It's backwards.
(True, the one over the fireplace faces right instead of left.)
PARIS: Oh, everybody's a critic.
EMH: As I recall, the Captain is quite an aficionado of Irish history.
JANEWAY: I hate to break up the party, but we have some business to
attend to. There's a neutronic wavefront approaching. Class nine.
KIM: Class nine?
PARIS: Sorry, boys. Duty calls.
SEAMUS: Ah, wavefront? Now, what in the name of God is that?
PARIS: Er, a wee bit of bad weather.
(Janeway looks at Michael for a few moments before leaving.)
Borg classification three four seven nine two. Particle density
PARIS: Where'd it come from?
SEVEN: I believe it was formed by the collision of two neutron stars.
The wavefront is
travelling at a velocity of two hundred thousand kilometres per second,
and it extends for three point six light years.
CHAKOTAY: How long before it hits?
SEVEN: Approximately fifteen hours.
TORRES: We're already feeling its effects. The neutron radiation is
disrupting plasma flow. We can't jump to warp.
PARIS: Impulse power won't be enough to outrun that thing.
JANEWAY: Then we'll have to ride it out. We'll generate an inverse warp
field and drop anchor. That should protect us from the turbulence.
CHAKOTAY: What about the radiation? It'll only get worse.
JANEWAY: Have the doctor prepare inoculations for the crew. Go to
yellow alert. Tom, B'Elanna, get started on converting the warp core.
PARIS: Yes, ma'am.
JANEWAY: Let's batten down the hatches.
JANEWAY: Just burning the midnight oil.
NEELIX: Midnight's come and gone.
JANEWAY: Then it's time for a break.
NEELIX: Do you mind?
JANEWAY: I could use the company. This approaching wavefront is
bringing back some unpleasant memories.
NEELIX: How so?
JANEWAY: You know I grew up on a farm in Indiana. We used to have some
terrible thunderstorms during the summer months. At the first bolt of
lightning I'd bolt under the bed.
NEELIX: We had some pretty nasty weather on Talax, too. I always
enjoyed a good ion storm.
JANEWAY: Give me clear skies any day.
NEELIX: Now that you bring it up, I am concerned with keeping up morale
over the next few days. The crew is not used to sitting still.
NEELIX: Everyone seems to love Fair Haven. I was thinking we might
initiate an open door protocol on the holodeck. Keep the programme
running twenty four hours a day. Let people come and go as they please.
JANEWAY: Permission granted. Fair Haven's just become our port in the
NEELIX: I'm heading down there myself, if you'd like to join me. There's
a charming little inn called the Ox and Lamb. The owner offered to
share some of his recipes.
JANEWAY: No, thanks. I still have work to do.
(It is way past closing time. Michael is putting the stools up on the tables.)
What'll it be?
JANEWAY: A cup of tea would be nice.
MICHAEL: I just made one. Cream?
MICHAEL: So, what brings you to Fair Haven, Miss?
JANEWAY: Kathryn. I'm just passing through on my way home.
MICHAEL: How long have you been on the road?
JANEWAY: Five years, almost six.
MICHAEL: You must be homesick.
JANEWAY: No. Sometimes. Thank you.
MICHAEL: Cead mile failte.
MICHAEL: A hundred thousand welcomes. It's an old Irish saying. We're
all friends here.
JANEWAY: I had an aunt who used to have a saying like that. A stranger
is a friend you just haven't met yet.
MICHAEL: Definitely Irish.
JANEWAY: She had an Irish temper, too. She and my uncle had a place not
far from here, in County Clare.
MICHAEL: Ah. Then you're closer to home than you think, Katie O'Clare.
JANEWAY: You know, it's later than I thought and I've kept you long
MICHAEL: Oh no, stay awhile. Didn't your auntie teach you that it's
impolite to leave without playing a game of rings?
JANEWAY: I really can't, but thanks for the tea.
MICHAEL: Afraid you'd lose?
JANEWAY: I rarely lose.
MICHAEL: Prove it.
JANEWAY: One game.
MICHAEL: I'll set them up.
(And later, another ring goes over one of the thirteen numbered hooks in the shield on the wall. Think darts without the arrows)
JANEWAY: And I'm not surprised. You stepped over the beer stain.
MICHAEL: I did not.
JANEWAY: You did too, by half a boot, and then you moved back, hoping I
MICHAEL: These boots are half a size too large, so in reality my toes
never crossed the line. Your turn.
JANEWAY: For luck.
MICHAEL: Getting sweet with the rings isn't going to help you.
JANEWAY: We'll see. Damn.
(Her ring clatters to the floor.)
MICHAEL: Devil won't help you, either.
JANEWAY: Well, maybe rings aren't my forte after all. Would you care to
MICHAEL: That's not a woman's game, Katie. You could get hurt.
JANEWAY: I'm stronger than I look.
(They grip hands on the bar.)
MICHAEL: Ah! That's quite a grip you have.
JANEWAY: Not bad yourself.
MICHAEL: I couldn't help but notice that you have your leg braced
against the bar.
JANEWAY: Well, how else do you expect me to win?
MICHAEL: Will we call it a draw?
JANEWAY: Sounds good to me.
MICHAEL: Shall we run a foot race down to the station and back? It's
good to make a new friend. You have a nice way about you.
JANEWAY: Flattery's the food of fools.
MICHAEL: Another pearl of wisdom from your auntie?
JANEWAY: No, Jonathan Swift
MICHAEL: Swift? Never heard of him.
JANEWAY: He was an author.
MICHAEL: I was never one for reading.
JANEWAY: That's too bad. Some of the greatest writers in the world are
MICHAEL: Well, they say that Doctor Gilroy has a library of books and,
well, next time I see him I'll ask him can I borrow one or two?
(A woman enters.)
FRANNIE: Good morning.
MICHAEL: Good morning. Oh, my God, will you look at the time? Frannie,
come here. There's someone I want you to meet. Katie O'Clare, this is
my wife, Frances.
JANEWAY: Pleased to meet you.
FRANNIE: I hope Michael hasn't been bending your ear all night long.
JANEWAY: My ear, my elbow.
MICHAEL: We were arm wrestling.
FRANNIE: Such a gentleman.
JANEWAY: Thank you very much for your hospitality and now I really must
MICHAEL: And, er, drop in again before you leave town.
JANEWAY: I will.
(The EMH is inoculating the crew against the radiation.)
you experience any dizziness report to Sickbay immediately.
CREWWOMAN: Thank you.
JANEWAY: Good morning, gentlemen.
EMH: I believe it's afternoon. Oversleep?
PARIS: Fair Haven?
JANEWAY: Welcome weary traveller.
EMH: Even I have to admit Mister Paris's latest effort is quite a tour
JANEWAY: Ooh, high praise from a hologram.
PARIS: Oh, I was thinking, Captain now that we've got this open door
policy, maybe I could expand Fair Haven into holodeck two. It would
give me some room to create the seacoast.
JANEWAY: By all means.
EMH: Speaking of revisions, I was hoping I could give my character a
more active role. In the period you've created, the village priest was
the most prominent member of the community, held in the highest regard.
PARIS: That's a great idea, Doc. We could send Father Mulligan on a
retreat to a nearby monastery, where he takes a vow of silence and never
EMH: Try it, and you'll be saying Hail Marys till Saint Patrick's Day.
TUVOK: Thirty seconds
JANEWAY: Let's see it.
(Thick clouds are approaching.)
JANEWAY: All hands, this is the Captain. Secure your
stations and brace for impact.
(The ship shakes and consoles go Bang.)
TUVOK: We've cleared the leading edge. Turbulence is decreasing.
Shields are holding.
KIM: We've got a ruptured plasma conduit, deck nine.
JANEWAY: Send a repair team. Maintain yellow alert. Let's hope that was
the worst of it.
personal log. It's been ten hours since the storm hit. We estimate
another three days before we're clear of it. The crew's in good
spirits, and many of them have taken the opportunity to visit Fair
Haven. I met an interesting man there, and for a while I almost forgot
he was a hologram. We weren't exactly compatible, but then again,
Mister Paris didn't
programme him to my specifications.
Computer, display Fair Haven character Michael Sullivan. Adjust his
parameters to the following specifications. Give him the education of a
nineteenth century third year student at Trinity College.
COMPUTER: Modification complete.
JANEWAY: Now, access the character's interactive subroutines. Make him
JANEWAY: Give him a more complicated personality.
JANEWAY: More outspoken, more confident, not so reserved. And make him
more curious about the world around him.
COMPUTER: Modification complete.
JANEWAY: Good. Now, increase the character's height by three
centimetres. Remove the facial hair. No, no, I don't like that. Put
some back. About two days' growth. Better. Oh, one more thing. Access
his interpersonal subroutines. Familial characters. Delete the wife.
COMPUTER: Modification complete.
JANEWAY: Pleased to meet you, Mister Sullivan.
(Tuvok is sitting at a table. His vision is slightly blurred.)
Are you ill, Commander?
TUVOK: I am experiencing a slight loss of equilibrium and some
SEVEN: Space sickness?
TUVOK: Unlikely. I am not prone to that condition.
SEVEN: Perhaps you should go to Sickbay.
TUVOK: I'll be fine.
KIM: I'm telling you, we should add more fog.
PARIS: Fog is depressing.
KIM: It's authentic.
PARIS: It's dangerous.
KIM: All right, we could add a lighthouse.
PARIS: It's Fair Haven, Harry. Sunshine?
KIM: Tuvok, what do you think? Irish sea coast, fog or no fog?
TUVOK: I have no opinion.
PARIS: He hasn't visited our little paradise yet.
TUVOK: Nor do I intend to.
KIM: I think you'd like it, Commander. It's a great place to meditate.
(They do the appropriate hand gestures to emphasis movement.)
PARIS: Imagine yourself sitting high on a bluff overlooking the ocean.
The salt air, The rhythm of the waves rising and crashing against the
rocks. A tiny fishing boat bobbing on the water below. Up and down, up
TUVOK: I get the idea, Ensign. Thank you.
NEELIX: Mutton, creamed cabbage or blood pudding?
NEELIX: I'm preparing a traditional Irish meal at the Ox and Lamb this
afternoon, and I can not decide on a main course.
PARIS: Blood pudding. You can't lose.
NEELIX: That was my first choice, too, but replicating the lamb's
intestines, it, it could be tricky, And every time I try to heat the
blood, it coagulates in the milk.
TUVOK: If you'll excuse me, I think I will consult the Doctor.
- Fair Haven Street]
(Janeway has donned period dress, and
the bun of steel as a suitable hairstyle instead of her short hair.
Grace is shopping at Geo Pattrick's fruit and veg barrow.)
Excuse me, ma'am. Have you seen Michael Sullivan?
GRACE: Oh, you might try the pub.
JANEWAY: I just came from there.
GRACE: Oh, then he'll be at the train station.
(Janeway points along the street.)
JANEWAY: Thank you.
(Janeway finds Michael sitting on a wrought iron bench, reading a book.)
Excuse me, sir. Is the train to Galway running on time?
MICHAEL: Um, I'm afraid you've just missed it. Have a seat, wait for
the next one. Do you know Jane Eldon?
JANEWAY: Eldon? No, I've never met her.
MICHAEL: I'd be terrified if you had. She's been dead seventy
years. No, I was er, I was thinking about her poetry. It's too pastoral
for my taste, don't you agree?
JANEWAY: I'm not familiar with her work.
MICHAEL: Really? Well, what about Sean Gogarty? They have similar
(Janeway shakes her head.)
MICHAEL: You've some catching up to do. Well, I'm here every
afternoon. You should join me sometime. I tried talking poetry with
Seamus, but all he can do is recite limericks.
JANEWAY: I'd love to. Strange place to read, though.
MICHAEL: Not at all. I love the sound of the trains coming and going.
It gets me thinking about places I'd like to visit. Have you travelled
JANEWAY: As a matter of fact. But there's one place I haven't been yet.
MICHAEL: It's a steep climb but from the top of the battlement you can
see all the way to Dublin. We'd better be moving.
(He offers her his arm.)
MICHAEL: They say when the sun
goes down the King of the Faeries reclaims the castle.
JANEWAY: Maybe he'll invite us to supper.
MICHAEL: Eh, you'll be dining alone without me. One taste of the
Faeries' banquet and you'll never return to this world.
JANEWAY: Oh, don't tell me you believe those stories.
MICHAEL: Believe? No. But I do respect them. Can I ask you something,
MICHAEL: Have you a man waiting for you at home?
MICHAEL: Are you looking for one?
JANEWAY: Why? Do you have somebody?
MICHAEL: In Fair Haven? Not unless you fancy a pig farmer.
JANEWAY: Oh, not my type.
MICHAEL: What about a barkeeper who reads poetry in strange
CHAKOTAY: Captain? I thought that was you.
(Chakotay is in uniform.)
JANEWAY: Just getting in the spirit.
CHAKOTAY: I can see that. I don't believe we've met.
MICHAEL: Sullivan. Michael Sullivan.
MICHAEL: That's a fine tattoo. Are you off a ship?
CHAKOTAY: You could say that.
MICHAEL: We're on the way up to the old castle. You're welcome to come
CHAKOTAY: Thanks, but, er, I'm meeting Neelix at the Ox and Lamb. You
two have fun.
MICHAEL: Is it my imagination, or did he call you captain?
JANEWAY: Did he?
(Voyager is engulfed in space fog.)
Looks like the worst is yet to come.
CHAKOTAY: I just came from Astrometrics. Seven's found an increase in
the neutronic gradient at the trailing edge of the wavefront. It's
going to be a rough ride when it hits.
JANEWAY: We've still got two days. Start working on a new shield
KIM: Yes, ma'am.
TUVOK: That could explain my recent space sickness. Vulcan physiology
is highly sensitive to neutronic gradients.
PARIS: You'd make a good barometer, Tuvok. Every time you get queasy,
we go to red alert.
JANEWAY: Thanks for your report, Commander.
CHAKOTAY: Don't mention it. Hills most green, hearts unseen.
JANEWAY: Yes. Jane Eldon. Catching up on a little reading.
CHAKOTAY: Those hills and hearts wouldn't happen to be in Ireland?
JANEWAY: You can wipe that smirk off your face. It's not what you
CHAKOTAY: I wasn't thinking anything, but now that you mentioned it
JANEWAY: I have an interest in Irish culture.
CHAKOTAY: It's understandable. They've produced great writers for
hundreds of years. Not to mention great bartenders.
JANEWAY: He's a hologram.
CHAKOTAY: I couldn't help but notice he seemed a little taller than the
last time I saw him.
JANEWAY: Yes, I made a few modifications.
CHAKOTAY: In the interest of Irish culture.
CHAKOTAY: You seemed embarrassed when I ran into you. There was no
reason to be. It was nice to see you having a little fun.
JANEWAY: He is rather charming, isn't he? Too bad he's made of photons
CHAKOTAY: I never let that stand in my way.
(A dance, with a fiddle band playing.)
The boys are getting tired.
JANEWAY: Them, or you?
MICHAEL: Faster, boys.
(The music finally ends.)
JANEWAY: Computer, remove all characters except for Michael Sullivan.
MICHAEL: Can I ask you something, Katie?
MICHAEL: Would you mind if I kissed you?
JANEWAY: I might even kiss you back.
MICHAEL: There's no point in waiting any longer, is there?
JANEWAY: Oh, I think I've waited long enough.
(So they kiss.)
MICHAEL: Is there something wrong?
(And she falls into his arms again.)
(Janeway picks up a pile of books, presumably Irish 19th century poetry, and takes them to the replicator.)
JANEWAY: Come in.
NEELIX: I thought you'd like to know we've organised a rings tournament
tonight at Sullivan's.
JANEWAY: Thanks, Neelix, but I have work to do.
NEELIX: The Doctor's going to sing something called Danny Boy, and
Mossie Donegan's promised to bring his talking pig.
JANEWAY: Well, let's just say I'd rather stick to reality right now.
NEELIX: Nineteen hundred hours, if you change your mind.
JANEWAY: Thank you.
(Seven throws a 13 ring.)
Saints preserve us.
SEVEN: I possess superior hand-eye coordination.
SEAMUS: That's not all that's superior. The lily and the rose are
staging a competition in your face.
SEAMUS: The fullness of your lips and the paleness of your cheeks, it's
enough to make a man faint.
SEVEN: Then in that case, perhaps we should sit down.
KIM: I don't believe it.
PARIS: It's called old-world charm, Harry.
NEELIX: What'll it be, gentlemen?
(Neelix is barman tonight.)
EMH: Nothing for me. Temperance is a virtue.
PARIS: Where's Michael?
NEELIX: Over there.
(Sitting at a table with a bottle of whiskey.)
PARIS: That's strange. I programmed him not to drink.
NEELIX: Must be a glitch in his subroutine.
(They go over to Michael's table.)
EMH: Are these seats taken?
MICHAEL: Sit anywhere you like.
(He tosses back another drink.)
MICHAEL: Vile. It's been fifteen years since I
touched the stuff.
PARIS: You making up for lost time?
MICHAEL: I was hoping it might ease the pain.
EMH: Are you in discomfort?
MICHAEL: Agony's more like it. How could you do this to me, Lord? Why
don't you ask him? You've got his ear, don't you?
MICHAEL: Three days. The happiest three days of my life. I was a fool
to think she felt the same. I was such a fool!
SEAMUS: Aw, sit down, Sullivan.
MICHAEL: Shut your mouth, man, or I'll shut it for you.
SEAMUS: Oh, you will, will you?
PARIS: Hey, hey. Take it easy. Why don't you tell us what happened?
MICHAEL: We, we spent a perfect day together by the lake. I drifted off
to sleep and when I woke up, she was gone. Where is she, Tom?
MICHAEL: Katie O'Clare, who else?
PARIS: Katie O'Clare?
MICHAEL: Your friend.
PARIS: Are you sure you didn't misinterpret her interests? I mean,
we're all friends here. Maybe she was just being friendly.
MICHAEL: Are you calling me a liar?
PARIS: No, no, not at all.
MICHAEL: I thought Katie and me were in love.
PARIS: (sotto) I may have to do some reprogramming.
MICHAEL: What's the matter? You don't think I'm good enough for her?
PARIS: No, I, I didn't say that.
MICHAEL: Well, tell me where she's gone.
PARIS: I don't know.
MICHAEL: Well, I think you do.
(Michael grabs Paris. A fight begins.)
EMH: Gentlemen, please! Love thy neighbour.
(The EMH is patching up the human losers.)
Let's see, I remember trying to reach the holodeck controls, Then, er,
somebody grabbed my leg.
PARIS: Maybe it was the talking pig.
KIM: If it was, he had one hell of a left hook.
JANEWAY: What's all this?
EMH: I'm afraid there's been some trouble in paradise. An altercation
in the pub this afternoon. Several crewmen were injured. Nothing
JANEWAY: Arm wrestling get out of hand, boys?
NEELIX: Not exactly.
KIM: It was Michael Sullivan, Captain. He was (Paris coughs) looking for
EMH: Why don't we take a little walk?
Let me guess. that someone is me.
EMH: I don't mean to pry, Captain, but we've got a broken-hearted
hologram who believed that the two of you were in love.
JANEWAY: Oh, I was sure he'd be on to the next lass by now. I hope he's
EMH: Far from it. The fight spilled out onto the street. Before long,
he'd climbed up a tree and began shouting your name. Mister Neelix
managed to talk him down.
JANEWAY: It could be a malfunction in his behavioural subroutines.
EMH: I've already checked that. His subroutines are fine, but I did
notice you'd made quite a number of alterations to his
JANEWAY: Minor improvements.
EMH: To make him more appealing?
JANEWAY: You're starting to pry, Doctor.
EMH: I apologise for overstepping my bounds but I'm worried about you.
Michael Sullivan is a hologram. His broken heart can be mended with the
flick of a switch. Your feelings however, are a little more
JANEWAY: I'm not going to be climbing any trees, if that's what you're
EMH: If you decide you want to talk, I've been hearing a lot of
confessions lately. Let me know.
JANEWAY: You want a confession, Doctor? All right. I've become
romantically involved with a hologram. If that's possible.
EMH: Tell me what happened.
JANEWAY: Well, you know the story. Girl meets boy, girl modifies boy's
EMH: Did you have intimate relations?
JANEWAY: That's none of your business. Let's just say it was a
memorable three days.
EMH: I don't see the problem.
JANEWAY: Don't you? Michael Sullivan is exactly my type. Attractive,
intelligent. We share the same interests. And if there's something I
don't like, I can simply change it.
EMH: I've noticed that humans usually try to change the people they
fall in love with. What's the difference?
JANEWAY: In this case, it works. We had a picnic by the lake yesterday
afternoon. Michael drifted off to sleep. His head was lying on my
shoulder and I remember thinking, this is close to perfect. Then he
began to snore. Did I nudge him with my elbow hoping he'd roll over and
stop? Did I whisper in his ear to wake him? No. Why bother? When I
could simply access the computer and alter his vocal algorithms? And
that's exactly what I was about to do, when I realised that everything
around me was an illusion, including him. So I left. I almost wrote him
a note to say goodbye. Can you believe that, a Dear John letter to a
EMH: I understand your trepidation, but you're the captain. You can't
have a relationship with a member of your crew. They're all your
subordinates. So where does that leave you? The occasional dalliance
with a passing alien? Voyager could be in the Delta Quadrant for a very
long time. A hologram may be the only logical alternative.
JANEWAY: He's not real.
EMH: He's as real as I am. Photons and forcefields, flesh and blood.
It's all the same as long as your feelings are real. He makes a joke,
you laugh. Is that an illusion? He says something that makes you think.
Does it matter how his molecules are aligned? Did it ever occur to you
that it's not just a question of whether or not he's real?
JANEWAY: What do you mean?
EMH: I think you should stop trying to control every aspect of this
relationship. Romance is born out of differences as well as
similarities. Out of the unexpected, as well as the familiar.
JANEWAY: Maybe I just needed to be sure that he'd love me back.
EMH: But isn't that the risk you always take, hologram or not? All I
know is, Michael Sullivan was up in that tree shouting your name.
JANEWAY: I've never been afraid of taking risks.
EMH: Then perhaps, next time, you should just let him snore.
(The storm is raging.)
neutronic gradient's rising. Thirty million terajoules. Forty million.
KIM: Sixty million.
TORRES [OC]: Torres to bridge. The inverse warp field's destabilising.
We're losing our anchor.
JANEWAY: Acknowledged. How long before we're clear?
PARIS: At least another five minutes.
KIM: That's about four minutes too long. The gradient's rising fast.
PARIS: Stabilisers are offline.
(Voyager starts to pitch and yaw.)
PARIS: No effect.
TUVOK: Shields are failing.
CHAKOTAY: How close are we to the perimeter?
PARIS: A thousand kilometres, but we're being pulled along with the
JANEWAY: What have you got in mind?
CHAKOTAY: The deflector beam. We might be able to cut a path through
TUVOK: It's possible, but we'd have to route all available power to the
KIM: That won't be enough. Primary systems are down.
JANEWAY: Then transfer all secondary power sources. Transporters,
KIM: Captain, there's not enough time to go through the hologrid
shutdown sequence. We'd lose most of Fair Haven.
JANEWAY: Do it.
CHAKOTAY: Hull fractures, deck six and seven.
KIM: You've got all the secondary power, Tuvok. Is it enough?
CHAKOTAY: Siphon energy from the plasma network. Every last deciwatt.
TUVOK: Deflector beam active.
PARIS: We're approaching the perimeter. Five hundred kilometres. Four
TUVOK: Deflector output is dropping.
JANEWAY: Give him everything we've got. Life support, environmental
controls. Scrape the residual ions off the sonic showers if you have
(The deflector beam punches a hole through the storm and they pass into calm space.)
- Fair Haven Street]
(There is a lot of flickering.)
Doesn't look good, Tom. With this much photonic decay we'll be able to
save five, maybe ten percent.
PARIS: So much for the luck of the Irish.
KIM: It might be easier to start from scratch.
PARIS: It wouldn't be the same. It's like trying to rewrite a novel
after the only copy of the data file has been deleted. All the details,
the nuances, they're all gone.
SEAMUS: Morning, lads.
KIM: Hey, Seamus.
SEAMUS: Looks like a storm brewing.
PARIS: A storm?
SEAMUS: Heading in from the west. Could be a big one.
(The hologrid is flickering in the sky.)
PARIS: Oh. Right.
SEAMUS: I don't suppose you could spare a shilling or two? Me wife and
I made up last night and I wanted to buy her a new parasol.
PARIS: The grid's destabilising. We'd better get started on those
KIM: So, what do we try and save? The Ox and Lamb? The church? Maggie
PARIS: There's someone I should talk to before we decide.
PARIS: Fair Haven didn't fare too well.
JANEWAY: I'll break the news to the crew.
PARIS: With your permission, I'd like to try to reconstruct the
JANEWAY: How long will it take?
PARIS: Six or seven weeks. Harry tells me that we should be able to
save about ten percent of the existing elements. I thought you might
have a suggestion or two.
Computer, is Fair Haven character Michael Sullivan still intact?
JANEWAY: Activate him. Hello.
MICHAEL: You disappeared on me, Katie. I woke up and you'd gone.
JANEWAY: I had some thinking to do.
MICHAEL: Are you done?
JANEWAY: Yes. I'm leaving Fair Haven.
MICHAEL: That's not a very good reason.
JANEWAY: The situation is complicated.
MICHAEL: Another man?
MICHAEL: Your friends, they don't approve of me?
JANEWAY: They think you're charming.
MICHAEL: Are you not ready to settle down yet?
JANEWAY: I'm as ready as I'll ever be.
MICHAEL: You're not making any sense.
JANEWAY: No, I guess I'm not.
MICHAEL: I have a feeling that you won't be forgetting us that
easily, Fair Haven has that effect on people. But there's one thing I
want you to know. I love you, Katie.
JANEWAY: I might actually be passing this way in six or seven weeks.
Maybe I'll stop by the pub.
MICHAEL: See that you do.
(She kisses him.)
JANEWAY: Oh computer, end programme. Wait. I want to make one more
modification to the character.
JANEWAY: Deny Kathryn Janeway any future access to his behavioural
COMPUTER: Modification complete.
JANEWAY: Save programme.