Star Trek: Picard (2020) s03e06 Episode Script

Obtain and deliver the asset.
All else is expendable.
I will pursue.
Tell me, Jack.
How did you know they
were all Changelings?
I didn't.
This Changeling's been
able to completely replicate
internal human organs.
Which means they could be anyone,
and we would never know.
Starfleet is compromised
at the highest level.
I have a pair of intelligence
assets on the ground
that I trust, and they have been busy
gathering evidence
connecting the portal weapon
to something else that
the Changelings want.
The key to this entire conspiracy
could be inside Daystrom.
Talk now.
Daystrom Station is guarded by
a highly sophisticated AI system.
But it has flaws.
I brokered for a device
that exploits them.
And you'll give us that device.
- Ro, are you all right?
- They know.
Jean-Luc, you need to
take the ship and run.
It's up to you now. You
finish what I started.
She's heading for the
Intrepid's port nacelle.
- We're being ordered to surrender.
- Surrender? Why?
We're being framed by the Changelings
masquerading as officers
aboard that ship.
Battle stations!
Starfleet has been compromised.
They're coming for us.
But who, exactly?
Everyone.
Where are they?!
Where are they?
The next ill-defined,
unshapen one of you
that tells me they've
yet to locate Picard
Mm-mm-mm!
And how exhausted they must be.
As am I, dear.
As are we.
As are our brothers and sisters
who suffer each day
having to wear the
faces of the Federation.
But there will be rest.
There will be a day of lifeless
bodies burning in space.
Oh, there will be silence again.
Unity again.
Peace again.
But first
we will have vengeance.
Enough.
Now
I want the names and locations
of every known associate
of Jean-Luc Picard.
All Starfleet colleagues,
past and present.
Every friend to whom he might turn.
Every loved one in which
he might seek comfort.
We will scorch the earth
under which he stands,
and the night will brighten
with the ashes of the Federation.
And from them
we will rise.
Jack has been having visions,
waking nightmares, erratic
bursts of aggression.
Once he confided in me,
I did a micro-neural scan,
and this was the result.
You're certain?
The portions of the brain
related to cognition,
imagination all affected.
According to this, Jack
has Irumodic Syndrome.
Inherited from me.
He had nightmares when he was a boy.
Vivid dreams.
Talked with imaginary things.
I thought he was gifted,
not plagued with an overclocked brain.
I've given him some medication
to temper the hallucinations
a neuro-inhibitor.
He's
all right for now.
It might be decades before
this catches up with him.
Beverly
Please don't spend
time burdening yourself
when you can unburden him.
Done.
Another one, please, landlord.
Oh. One for my old man, as well.
We're celebrating.
- Celebrating?
- Mm.
Turns out I'm not crazy.
No. I'm just broken.
And the way I see it, I can
either wallow in self-pity,
or I can be like those Japanese teacups,
which get put back
together with melted gold.
Or in my case, bourbon.
I think you should take this seriously.
Oh, I'm being deadly serious.
Quite possibly dead.
Hey, Van Gogh did incredible
things with an enflamed brain,
- so leave me the bottle and a few spare ears.
- Jack
How did you survive it?
I didn't.
Right. The positronics.
A new fully synth prototype body.
I don't suppose you've got another one
in my size, have you?
I lived with Irumodic
Syndrome for decades.
Fate has a way of surprising us.
And you're young, Jack.
If only you were as good
at passing on genetics
as you are wisdom.
For so long, my mother
thought to protect me from you.
To shield me from
being collateral damage
in the life of Jean-Luc Picard.
Irony is
maybe I was doomed
before I was even born.
Commander Hansen to Admiral Picard.
Go ahead.
They're here.
Admiral. Permission to come aboard.
Granted, Mr. Worf.
It's been far too long.
Eleven years, five months, four days.
Minus your infrequent messages
and the annual bottle of sour mead.
Sour Mead?
Chateau Picard.
It is quite tart, sir.
Mmm.
Come on, you know he's not a hugger.
Oh, I know.
But it is just so good to see you.
- Thank you, Doctor.
- Jean-Luc,
you're never gonna
believe this, but, uh,
this Klingon, he's been meditating.
The most advantageous battle stance
- is being one within oneself.
- Whoa.
- Seriously?
- I just said it.
Hey, you. You all right?
Well, we're alive, if
that's what you mean.
Well, we had a hell of
a time finding you guys.
It gave us extra time
to process the news
that you and Dr. Crusher are parents.
- It would seem so.
- Admiral,
we must ensure that Ro
Laren's death was not in vain,
to protect both Starfleet and her kin.
We have much to report.
It appears our old enemy,
the Changelings, have re-emerged
from the wake of the Dominion War.
During the war, they
attacked the Federation
with deception and might,
and we retaliated with
a Starfleet-made virus.
There are scars and shame on both sides.
Starfleet did, however, deliver the cure
to the Changeling home
world, to the Great Link.
Not without weaponizing a
few zealots in the process.
Ro believed that
whatever they're planning,
it's somehow tied to
Starfleet's Frontier Day.
No better stage on which
to make a statement.
- In less than 48 hours.
- We're running out of time.
- We have no leads.
- Which is why we must return to the beginning.
To the scene of the
crime: Daystrom Station.
Home to Starfleet's
most off-the-books tech.
Experimental weapons, alien contraband.
A few months ago, Vadic stole a
handful of classified weapons
namely, the portal
device you encountered.
Its use at the recruitment center,
we believe, was merely a distraction.
To conceal what?
The theft of something else?
Steal the diamonds so
nobody checks on the pearls.
It's obvious. They stole a
weapon ten times more deadly.
So we're looking for a smoking gun
that no longer exists.
Then we just follow the smoke.
The only way to identify
and retrieve this weapon
is by getting ahold of
Daystrom's project manifest,
its inventory.
Which is heavily redacted in the files
that Ro was able to gather.
Exactly. But the raw data
should be on a computer
in the station's primary vault.
So we burgle the very
institution hunting us.
Excellent use of the
word "burgle," Admiral.
Since the break-in,
the station has been mostly unoccupied.
It is patrolled by Starfleet
security every hour,
but the vault itself is protected by
an astonishingly lethal AI system.
One that thinks, that adapts.
Fortunately, we have acquired a key
that should temporarily
disable the system.
Unfortunately, if this key fails
Well, instead of finding one weapon,
we'll be on the wrong end of many.
Ro believed this missing weapon
to be central to the entire
Changeling conspiracy.
This is the only way that
we can clear our names
and save Starfleet.
So
any volunteers?
Uh, it's good to see
Oh, it's great to be seen.
I have gone into battle
with lovers countless times.
- It can be therapeutic
- I'm not going.
That is a relief. I
was practicing deceit.
Breakups on my homeworld
seldom end without bloodshed.
Okay. Ready.
We warped close enough
to beam you inside
without alerting Starfleet.
Ro's intel had a workaround
for the transport inhibitors.
But we'll have to get you in and out
before the manual security patrol.
How much time will we have
to find the weapons manifest?
An hour at best.
Oof.
I hope this key works.
Otherwise we're going
to have to resort to some
old-fashioned Klingon offense.
Captain Riker
Worf, call me Will. Come on.
You should know that
I now prefer pacifism
to actual combat.
Energize.
We're all gonna die.
Welcome, Daystrom visitors.
Please identify.
Worf, the key.
- Welcome, Daystrom visitors.
- We've got about seconds before that thing
- stops asking nicely.
- Please identify.
Welcome, Daystrom visitors.
- Please identify.
- Mm-hmm.
Daystrom visitors,
please identify yourselves immediately
or lethal security
protocols will engage.
Thank you. Thank you.
Have a wonderful day.
And please, no food or beverages
in the research area.
They found us.
How? We dropped our transponders,
didn't trip the alarm.
Red alert. Beam our people out of there.
I can't get a lock on
their transport signals.
Those ships just activated
transport inhibitors.
Starfleet vessels are locking on.
Targeting phasers.
Those are Eschelon-class,
mid-model starships
with a traceable payload.
One hit, if it doesn't kill us,
we'll be able to track the
residual ionic energy as we flee.
Spoken like a true La Forge.
We need to run before they
realize who's in Daystrom.
Short of being invisible,
we can't come back.
Not until they're unable to track us.
Will, listen.
We've got company up
here. We can't get to you.
But I've had an idea.
La Forge, set a new
course for Athan Prime.
Uh, I don't think that's a good idea.
Starfleet security will be patrolling
this area in less than an hour.
And we'll be back before
then, Mr. Worf, I promise.
- Weapons lock achieved.
- Captain, we need to go.
La Forge, get us out
of here, maximum warp.
Admiral?
Captain?
We're on our own.
What, exactly, are they storing here?
Many of Section 31's most nefarious
- table scraps, it would seem.
- Section 31?
Critical division of
Starfleet Intelligence.
Yeah, I know who they are.
I just didn't know this is where
they were hiding all the good stuff.
A mighty Klingon taken aback by
the even mightier attack Tribble.
I see you still find comfort in humor.
And humor in other people's discomfort.
You used to poke back.
What happened to you?
All right, all right, just, gentlemen
let's just retrieve the manifest,
figure out whatever weapon was stolen
and get the hell out of here alive.
It's only a matter of time
until security sweeps through
and finds us.
What exactly are we looking for?
We're looking for some
kind of access panel
or security terminal to
the mainframe computer.
What is that?
A holographic crow?
Let us continue our search.
But tread lightly.
We will not be prey. We will be
friendly energy.
I don't understand the world anymore.
There's something
familiar about the crow.
Yeah, right? Like from my nightmares.
I believe this is the mainframe.
What was that?
F-sharp, I think.
I think, therefore I am.
Professor Moriarty.
Greetings
old friends.
We have arrived at Athan Prime, Captain.
I've been here before. This is
The Fleet Museum.
Every legendary starship.
This is their final resting place.
The old space dock.
Helm, find a pocket among the relics.
Let's be a needle in the haystack.
We're being hailed.
- Good.
- Respectfully, sir, I'm not sure
On screen.
Geordi!
Listen to me very carefully, Jean-Luc.
Power down all of your ship's
nonessential systems immediately.
Geordi, we need your help.
- Commodore La Forge.
- Geordi.
I must admit. In the nanosecond my body
de
- and then reconstructed,
I debated the virtues of a
curt professional handshake,
or an uncomfortable
but long-overdue hug.
And which way will it go?
Admiral.
Sidney.
Sir.
Geordi, allow me to introduce
Jean-Luc, we don't have a lot of time.
I'm in the middle of my
third memo to Starfleet
objecting to gathering the entire fleet
in one location for Frontier Day.
Not to mention the
hundreds if not thousands
that pass by daily to view these ships.
Now, sooner or later,
somebody is going to notice
the one that doesn't belong.
You and I need to find
a place to talk, now.
Hey, sis.
- He's impossible.
- I'll do what I can.
Alandra!
Well, that was warm
and cuddly, wasn't it?
My father and I haven't been
on the best of terms lately.
Sounds like something
we've got in common.
That young man is your son?
Leave it to you, Jean-Luc,
to turn fatherhood into
an intergalactic incident.
I've told you, we haven't just
been running from Starfleet,
but from Changelings also.
- Worf and Riker
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
You roped them into this, too?
They're trapped inside Daystrom Station
at this very moment, with
Starfleet circling the water.
You want me to help break
them out of the Federation's
most classified facility?
Which, I'm assuming for
the record, they broke into?
Look, if you could just clone
our ship's transponder signal,
we could make Starfleet believe
we'd absconded somewhere else.
And lure them away
from Daystrom Station.
First of all, even if I was willing,
I can't clone transponders
without randomized
Starfleet security codes.
And second Tell him, Alandra.
Well, despite my
father's many objections,
every ship in this fleet
is now fully integrated,
which means they talk to each other.
So, you can drop transponder
signals all you want,
but the Titanis a beacon.
It's only a matter of time
before it gets close enough
to alert the other ships.
So that's how they found us.
Sternbach to Cole.
No sign of them in Structure C.
Heading to Deck A to continue our sweep.
Copy that, Sternbach.
Teams moving to Structure B now.
Can someone explain why a
19th-century holo-villain
is guarding a 25th-century black site?
Oh, my dear,
"villain" doesn't do
justice to my complexity,
and only reveals your simplicity.
Hmm. At least somebody's consistent.
Go. Go!
This is not the same
self-aware Moriarty
we encountered on the Enterprise.
More of a holograph,
perhaps a projection.
Security vault's through
there. He's firing live rounds.
If we don't get that damn
door open, we are dead.
B-Flat. D-Flat.
What solvable puzzles you all are.
You unguarded expressions,
your visible scars.
My, how time has spun you all apart.
Such pathetic old warriors.
C-Sharp. A-Flat.
Are you trying to play a song for us?
- Some sort of a tune?
- Yes.
Yes, a maddening melody.
A saccharine song.
One that I cannot get out of my head.
Marvelous.
How did you know it would work?
I shared that tune decades
ago with another dear friend.
One who dreamt of crows,
and aspired to thwart Moriarty
with the intellect of Holmes.
Somebody who couldn't
whistle worth a damn.
Marvelous.
I want to help you, Jean-Luc.
You, Will, Worf, Beverly.
The best-case scenario,
I'll be court-martialed.
Worst-case, a compromised Starfleet
will come after my
family. You know that.
- And when that happens
- Dad.
What about Hangar Bay 12?
- Alandra, please.
- Geordi,
this is life-or-death.
It's always life-or-death, Jean-Luc.
When has it not been?
Which was fine, back in the day when
I chose to put my life on the line
under your command.
But you've just knowingly
put my daughter in grave danger.
Geordi, I did nothing of the kind.
Sidney joined Starfleet
Any luck?
I'm so sorry about this.
You know how stubborn he is.
- Off.
- Mm
I'm just trying it out.
Ooh.
Let me see.
That one is the Defiant.
Mm, that's the New Jersey.
Oh, wow.
Well, this one is my personal favorite.
Kirk's Enterprise.
All those perfectly clean retro lines.
Yep, I'm definitely a
Constitution-class man.
That's a fair amount
of history for somebody
who doesn't give a damn about Starfleet.
Oh, no, I've always loved a starship.
Well before I knew
anything about my old man.
Oh.
Oh, she's a beauty.
Which one's that?
The USS Voyager.
She made her name farther out than
any of those other relics had ever gone.
I was reborn there.
She was my home.
Her crew were my family.
And now
You're just trying to find another.
We all long for connection.
But we're just a little
bit alone, aren't we?
Stars in the same galaxy,
but light-years between us.
Oh, you are definitely
your father's son.
He, too, has a knack for the, um,
poetic drive-by observation.
Can be very annoying.
But it can also make a person feel seen.
Yeah, well, I can't
say being equal parts
irritating and endearing
isn't entirely unfamiliar.
Ah. What's that one? Is that a
Is that a Klingon Bird-of-Prey?
The HMS Bounty,
pulled from the bottom
of the San Francisco Bay.
Yeah, right. The whole whale thing.
Story goes they had a
hell of a time finding it.
It disappeared.
Because the cloaking
device had reactivated.
He wasn't trying to hurt us.
He was trying to communicate.
He was reaching out to
us. He recognized us.
I thought Data died. Twice.
He did.
- This cannot be our Data.
- He appears to be
some kind of hybrid
synthetic with android interface.
But it could be him.
Data copied everything he was onto B-4.
His memory, personality. His mind.
And up to now it's been unrecoverable.
But since the ban on
synths has been lifted,
nothing's impossible.
Looks like after Soong passed,
Starfleet co-opted most
of his unfinished work.
Hmm. They took a keen interest
in your sentient AI friend here.
Hold on.
What's that?
Altan Soong.
Before I gifted Picard my golem
my intention was
to live beyond my years.
To become my own legacy.
Now I see, in my final days,
that wasn't just poor humanity,
it was poor science.
Because evolution is not
an act of preservation.
It's addition.
Sidney, she was the hard one.
Just stubborn.
In truth, she probably got it from me.
You always want to impart
the best aspects of yourself to them.
I've recently been reminded that
we are not in control
of what we pass on.
Strengths, wisdom, talent,
and also flaws.
Weaknesses.
Sins of our past.
Into this new golem will
go a bit of Lal, B-4
of Lore.
And, of course,
a great deal of Data
this time with the wisdom
and true human aesthetic of age.
With the hope that in totality,
something someone
will rise to be the best of us.
It appears Altan Soong died
before he was able to
complete the project.
The integration effort failed.
All the personalities remain
at odds inside this vessel.
I think back on those
days on the Enterprise,
all the danger we rushed into.
I never feared for my life.
Not the way I fear for hers.
Jean-Luc, I want to help you.
But I can't help you
and protect them.
I'm sorry.
I really am.
We're leaving.
Your father can't help us,
and I must respect his wishes.
However, he wants to speak with you.
Why won't you help us?
Sidney, sit down.
Now, Jean-Luc and I have
come to an agreement.
You are going to stay
here at the museum with me,
and he is willing to say that you were
- an unwilling participant.
- But it's not true.
Sid, this is the way it has to be.
The galaxy is at stake here, Dad.
I've seen a corpse that
looked just like me.
I know what these
Changelings are capable of.
- We need to leave that to Starfleet.
- I am Starfleet!
I need you to be thinking about us.
I grew up listening to your adventures.
All the times you and Picard
stood up for what was right.
- It was a different time.
- No!
It is you and I that are different.
I'm not Alandra.
I'm not an engineer like you.
You built amazing things, but me,
I just wanted to fly them.
You took that as me rejecting you,
but I always thought it
brought us closer together.
You would believe in this
if you believed in me.
Sidney!
Have you any idea how we felt
when this ship went missing? Hmm?
Now you're out here on the run,
jeopardizing your
future, your entire life.
- I'm on the run with my crew.
- They're not your family.
Yes, they are. You taught me that.
And I'm not scared to
step up and help them.
You are.
We're almost out of time.
We should return to Daystrom.
Perhaps our only recourse
is to take on those ships ourselves.
Battle stations?
Sadly, I believe so.
We should find Shaw and strategize.
So, you staying or going?
- Staying.
- Brilliant.
Oh, just to be clear, I
caused quite a lot of this.
And your sister, on
more than one occasion,
has flown us out of the mess I made.
Rather wonderfully, I might add.
Okay, let's reset our phasers.
All of which is a preamble to me asking
two very simple questions. One
how well do you know this museum?
Two what's your temperance
for some, shall we say
minor larceny?
So Starfleet installed
an insane AI to defend
its deepest secrets?
They used him because he's
a one-of-a-kind work of art.
Certainly more brilliant than
anything else they can come up with.
You know, he glitched when he saw us.
He recognized us, which means
He sees everything
that comes in and out.
He is not protecting the manifest,
he is the manifest.
I can see the files.
Data should be able to tell
us exactly what the Changelings
stole from Daystrom.
- Daystrom intruders
- Security.
You have violated Starfleet Command
directives 21 through 39
We have officially run out of time.
We have to leave now.
Riker to Picard. Are you
there? Jean-Luc, do you read me?
He does not.
Mr. La Forge,
uh, as a former engineer,
I just wanted to say
what a, what an honor it
is to have you on board.
Captain, your hull is battered, bruised,
and basically paper-thin.
You're spewing fumes through layers
of 21st-century duct tape.
Yeah, it's been a weird week.
Which is why, under
better circumstances,
I would gladly geek out with you over
the marvel of maintenance and
engineering that this ship is.
Thank you. Thank you, um,
Bridge to Transport. See that
the La Forges get home safe.
Captain, we're reading
massive bursts of EM radiation.
What the hell have you done, Jean-Luc?
Geordi, I assure you
- Admiral, we're now cloaked.
- Cloaked?
You stole the goddamn cloaking device
from my Bird-of-Prey?
Geordi, I would never deceive you,
and I would never steal from
- Jack.
- Sidney.
We're phasing in and out.
It's not installed correctly.
I think we either need to
oscillate the power resonators
- or adjust the reflective index.
- Oh, is that all?
But if we do either of
those things incorrectly
or in the wrong order, it
will create a power feedback
that will cripple the ship entirely.
Removing the device tripped
an automatic security alarm.
Starfleet is on their way.
Have you any idea, Jean-Luc,
how many Federation
treaties this violates?
Well, I guess they'll just
have to add it to my tab.
We need you.
She needs you.
It's probably not supposed to do that.
Inducers overheating.
I don't know how to stop
- the chain reaction.
- But I do.
And you stay away from my daughter.
Dad?
We're gonna have to do this on the fly.
Alandra, get to a
long-range comms terminal.
Tell Mom we're not
gonna be home for dinner.
Come on, kid, make yourself useful.
Incoming transmission from Picard.
Admiral.
We're on our way, Mr. Worf.
We're going to cloak near the station
to avoid Starfleet detection.
- You have 90 seconds.
- Cloak with what?
Superior Klingon technology.
We're taking Data with us.
Pulling him offline
will disable security.
Starfleet will pour in, phasers blazing.
He is correct. We
cannot leave him behind.
The information that is within him
is key to what's going on here.
The Changelings, what
they stole, what they want.
Tell the Titan to lock on to
an extra set of coordinates.
They have no idea we're here.
If I'm correct, we'll have to de-cloak
in order to beam them up.
Get ready to lock on
to transporter signals.
Pulling him out now. 30 seconds.
Titan, four to beam up.
Oh, no. We got incoming.
We're not gonna make it.
Yes, you are.
Get our friend out of here.
I got this.
No. Captain!
We're exposed.
Starfleet ships turning to fire.
Evasive maneuvers.
Transporter room,
lock on to the away team.
Just a few more seconds.
There. Data's free.
We've lost one transport
signal, but I'm reading another.
You bring over whoever you've got now.
Worf.
Commodore.
What happened? Where's Riker?
He was captured. Transport inhibitors.
He saved us.
We may have lost one friend in battle,
but we have gained another.
Data.
I will find him, Admiral.
I will bring William Riker home.
And fearful be the god or man or beast
that stands in my way.
I believe you, Mr. Worf.
Thank you.
I'm sorry about Riker.
Look, I can be a lot of things.
Mostly the prick at the bar who
says things he can't take back.
Maybe a bit cocky.
A bit?
However
I think I have some virtues as well.
I'm mostly caring.
Often tenacious, principled.
I hope.
And occasionally clever.
All of those things,
I get from my mother.
But I can also be brave, loyal,
and far wiser than I
have any right to be.
Until a week ago
I didn't know where
those traits came from.
Maybe you didn't just give
me some bullshit disease.
Maybe
you gave me some of
the good bits as well.
Maybe.
I'm not mad at you for what you did.
I'm disappointed in myself
for not doing what my
younger self would have done.
I'm proud of you, Sidney.
Very proud.
Now, hand me that ionic
flow regulator, will you?
Mm-mm. You need the
focal adjustment spanner.
For the main port.
Right. But
Why do you think I crashed
so many speeders as a kid?
So I could spend time
with you fixing them.
This is hard.
I've watched Data die twice now.
Data the android.
But this is Data
something else.
In some kind of miraculous,
almost human positronic body.
Best I can tell, the
different personalities
have yet to be integrated.
I mean, but the
information is all there.
Can he tell us what
Vadic stole from Daystrom?
Assuming he's sane enough
to speak, I believe so.
I can reboot, but I can't
completely isolate Data,
even with the personality
partitions in place, so
we just don't know
what we're going to get.
Geordi?
Captain?
Yes.
Data, is that you?
Yes, sir. No, sir.
I
I am not certain.
- He's like you, Jean-Luc.
- I am Data.
- Synthetic
- No
- but
- I was Data.
human.
There are many of myself
inside Daystrom Android M-5-10,
but, currently,
one voice speaks to you more
more fondly than the others.
The evening of the robbery,
something was taken.
Something more deadly
than a portal weapon.
We believe that you
witnessed that event.
Can you confirm?
Can I confirm? Can I con
- Is he malfunctioning?
- I don't know.
Memory records indicate
what appears to be
the Changelings' main objective.
Go on.
The project manifest
lists the missing item.
Data, can you tell us what was stolen?
Jean-Luc Picard.
Yes, Data, I'm here.
I repeat, can you tell
us what was stolen?
Jean-Luc Picard. Jean-Luc Picard.
Manifest inquiry.
- Jean-Luc Picard.
- Is there a reset switch?
I'm Lore.
I am B-4.
I am Soong.
No, I am more.
Data, it is vital that you tell
us what was taken from the lab.
What is this?
It is what the Changelings
stole from Daystrom.
Human remains.
Jean-Luc Picard.
You will tell us the location
of Picard and the Crusher boy.
Like hell I will.
Mm.
Hi.
Oh, look at this one.
How much of that goo shit
did they pour into you?
You really think after
35 years of loyalty
that I'm gonna betray
my friends for you?
No, Captain Riker, not for me.
Oh, Will.