Transcript
Speaker: 6 months before the incident. Classified Research Report, Project Winnie, CRO 900H83AR. Stardate, classified. Chairman, after a century, I believe I have a solution to the body problem.
Speaker: What if you put a photonic mind inside a living organism, not simply a machine that relied on code? After witnessing the mind control abilities of Tika Lucy, I've begun testing the brainwave assimilation technology with the tactical holograms. The beamheads have been an unexpected boon for these experiments. Begin walk.
Speaker: yeah In the C .R .O.'s nest, a dim light flickers over a large operating table where Dreadbear is restrained. Nearby, a beam head with a vacant stairs hooked to a machine. Father? Dreadbear. I told you not to call me that. Dr. Chaminuka, have you cleared this with Commander Desai - With the ship's counselor? Leela doesn't know, and she won't. She doesn't need to.
Speaker: Doesn't this violate the Hippocratic Oath? This is a section 13 vessel, Dreadbear. Just spit it out. I'm not sure I want to do this. You don't have a choice. You made me look like a teddy bear. Why? We made you look like Winnie the Pooh, so children could carry you into your target's house. Why did you give me his personality too? You're a deadly weapon, Dreadbear. You need intelligence. Not to kill the children, too. Though, I wish I'd made you more compliant. You're never supposed to have a name. Let alone become infamous. The target edit was abusing the edit child. Your job was to observe. Now,
Speaker: I'm using you for a different experiment. And you will comply. the fuck would you know about souls, Bear? As you stated, you have the brains of a children's toy. Leave the complicated thinking to evolved mammals. This feels... This is wrong.
Speaker: Every breakthrough feels like a violation at first. Now activate your brainwave of assimilation. I've installed this Megas tech in the positonic brains of every tactical hollow on board. I, Father, I refuse. As I said, you don't have a choice. Computer, activate Dreadbear's brainwave assimilation. Target this beam head. Assimilation wave activated.
Speaker: Father! This hurts! You can take it. Keep going. Assimilate his whole body. No! The bean head reaches up and snaps his own neck. Dreadbear breaks free from his restraints. He lunges at Dr. Leo, pinning him to the ground.
Speaker: His claws slowly extend like wolverines out of his plush paws. If you ever do that to me again, father, I will make you pay. Computer, freeze tactical command hologram. Dreadbear's body freezes, but his rage -filled eyes track Dr. Leo, who stands and dusts himself off.
Speaker: I really wish I'd made you more compliant.
Speaker: and lob, addendum. as you can see the brainwa assimilation technology can be put to use for the k connect however we probably need a tactical hologram who is more pliable i think guiltil may be the only hollow suited for the task at the moment
Speaker: Space. The Heartless Darkness. These are the records of the starship Hoodoo, its task to secure, contain, and protect against the entities and phenomena that pose a threat to the people of the United Socialist Khanate. Always resolved. To boldly go where no one dares. We are Khan.
Speaker: sobecca hernandezrimaen as captain shakahanhan hip paulman as the narrator vicki seal as commander lela desai umgani mulambo as dr leo chavannuka
Speaker: episode 10 written by Ruth Hinkle and Razeek Brown.
Speaker: two years before the Hulu's launch.
Speaker: Welcome to Ciudad Primera, the heart of the former Klingon Empire, draped in the vibrant colors of the Klingerjaz. Here, the throne of the city blends with the distant roars from the Tetsujin Arena, a reminder of the city's love for spectacle and sport.
Speaker: Beyond the reach of the city's ceaseless pulse is Dr. Seapok Delanomat's laboratory, a sanctuary of science and healing. Just a small tweak here, stabilizing neural link here. You make it so easy, doctor. It's all about patience and precision. Two things that never go out of style, not even in this age about the innovation.
Speaker: I never doubted you, Doctor. Your hands are blessed.
Speaker: C -Pac, I need you to check out my ocular implant. My vision is lagging. It's like seeing through a slow motion camera. C -Pac, I'm a frickin' foreign health server patient. This isn't a good time.
Speaker: It's just a quick fix. I tweaked the implant to improve reaction time for the duels. You installed unauthorized software on a board implant? That's irresponsible, even for you. I just can't fix this on the fly. I need this, CPOC. You're the only one who can make it right. I'm not some barber on the battlefield, passionate, touching your pilots under fire. I'm a doctor, two -pot. You don't have to reach your turn it like everybody else.
Speaker: And you're also my little brother. Help me out here, CPOP. They should have come to me first. Now, if you're finished, I got patients to treat. Cancel the deal and I'll fix it tomorrow. You're joking. I'm not. Some of us have real jobs where people depend on us. I don't have time for this.
Speaker: A news alert flashes across its view screen. so but el martio de ranoma se and el leta e war pou arch kime butmaka yeah and like andario but terrano regal quatro elmartio ya
Speaker: For the first 10 minutes of their flight into space, they fire small ballistics at each other. Closely they get to the upper atmosphere, the pair clash literally trying to push each other off their trajectory. High above the rugged landscape of Tronos and a haunting graveyard of space debris, the Archimedes and El Tigre perform a celestial dance of destruction under the watchful eyes of the Texan arena crowd, gasping with each maneuver.
Speaker: is it they could be higher easy by higher lower better better armenes on defense again visitors are v gray with dark dark queen rock like like hole of the lightning especially l your tricks won save you Just watch me old man, you might learn something.
Speaker: Mr. Especial's audacity knows no bounds. His machine, a streak of golden rod, weaves through the tumbling ashes. The Archimedes, a colossus of precision and power, is just a hair's breadth behind.
Speaker: Tupac and the Archimedes charges with a boldness born of countless victims. His movements, though powerful, are slightly delayed. Feeling slow today, my T -jaw? Need a moment to catch up? It's all part of the show, Mr. Especial. Watch closely now. Both Tetrajian draw sabers the size of field rollers. Tupac compensates for the lag in his vision, pushing his Tetrajian harder, each move forceful but less precise. Falco exploits every opening. His attacks a series of shot -calculated strikes.
Speaker: push it too hard too fast system's going to overload now you see The slight delay in Tupac's reaction grows more pronounced. With each maneuver the strain of his implant intensifies, his vision blurring at the edges, the digital display flickering harmoniously.
Speaker: you're playing a dangerous game martizjo all power no finesse
Speaker: It's not over until it's over. As Tupac mounts another aggressive attack, a critical moment arrives. His vision glitches at the worst possible time. A crucial dodge executed just a fraction too late. The Archimedes, muddy and formidable, staggers under the unexpected precision of Falco's final strike. Damn. Should've waited, I guess.
Speaker: In the hushed it follows, the once indomitable Titan of the Arena falters, a stark reminder of the thin line between victory and defeat. Ladies and gentlemen, in all my years I've never seen the matches over! Emergency crews! Scramble! Emergency crews!
Speaker: um you difficult that technique sort Beneath the gaze of the stars, the once vibrant arena is now a cathedral of hushed spectators.
Speaker: A world away, Seapok stands frozen in his lab. hit It only would have taken 20 minutes.
Speaker: The morning light flickers through the blinds of Seapok's office. It's been a year since Tupac's deadly duel. Today he treats Marcos from the House of Cresha, a Rigel IV veteran and one of Tupac's old friends. I know I could have gone down to Khanate Veteran Affairs, but then I remembered I know one of the best cyberneticists in the business. Your patronage is always appreciated, Marcos.
Speaker: Dr. Sipak, I can't help but notice. You seem lost. It's just some fatigue. I've seen that look before, my friend. It's the same one I had after Aijo. Isolation can be harsher than a battlefield in some ways. Kimu and everyone else knows my brother was killed in a duel compadre. Your brother was a brave Khanate warrior who died doing what he loved in the way that he loved to do it.
Speaker: How can these people just say that and move on? Because we are Klingon. We are also Terran. Some of us just can't turn off our brains but every time we think of honor. I didn't think you'd miss him this much. You all didn't really like each other. Yeah? And he was my fuckin' Armando, Marcos. My blood. Well, if it makes you feel any better, he's not completely dead. You know, I've heard stories about the Borg, Tekkenos, Tatsujin. Old jockey tales.
Speaker: Wait, what stories? they used to say the netech could trap a pilot's soul if they died in combat you ever seen a dr e hollergar Once, when I was in med school, an economic coalition group just came around. Well, during Raijol, those holograms warned us not to sink too deeply with our Tetsuchins, to avoid getting stuck. Ridiculous, right? Eventually, they fixed it so the holograms stopped saying that.
Speaker: Sounds like superstition to me I used to think so too, but there were times in the heat of battle sinking with my impulse frame I felt something a presence perhaps or maybe it was just a protocol 13 talking Makes you wonder doesn't it? It does Thanks for the tune -up doc
Speaker: The seed of curiosity once planted proves hard to ignore. As CPOG dives into research in the enigmatic Dr. Leo Chaminuca, unable to shake the feeling that there might be a sliver of truth in the old war stories. There has to be something here, Dr. Leo Chaminuca. Warning, you are accessing classified government documents. Would you like to navigate away from this information and avoid committing a crime? I could access logs.
Speaker: Which would probably mean I'll be sent to a re -education center and have my memories wiped. Decisions, decisions.
Speaker: Access granted. The image of an elderly African doctor with gray dreadlocks appears in a window with a time coat ticking at the bottom. I've done it. I've figured out how to transfer a living soul into a positonic brain.
Speaker: to require me to have my brain teleported outside of my head and into a hybridization of Borg random access memory transfer that information into a positronic brain. With that brain installed in a computer database, I can now create a permanent transferable Living consciousness, or digital soul. This guy's fucking insane. I know you don't agree, but Leela, now will never be apart, unless we wish. C -Pop watches Dr. Leo get behind a jury -rigged transporter in a lab. The doctor looks into the camera lens.
Speaker: The machine hums to life, an airy glow enveloping Dr. Leo. His eyes, wide with a cocktail of fair and excitement, reflect the monstrous reality of his decision. Transferring now.
Speaker: With a grotesque sound, his brain is ripped from his skull, teleported, digitized, transformed into streams of data. His consciousness flows into a new artificial matrix. As this happens, a river of blood streams down his real face as his organic eyes go completely white forever. It's working.
Speaker: Am I? The old body of Dr. Leo flickers into existence. Holographic. Seemingly perfect. Lila. It worked. I'm alive. I'm real. I am.
Speaker: But joy turns to horror as he tries to clasp his head. His hard, light flesh has no feeling his mind can recognize. No touch, no warmth, nothing. I can't feel. Why can't I feel anything? What have I done?
Speaker: Warning, your home network has been hacked.
Speaker: Dr. Seapack, you've kind of gotten yourself into some deep shit, buddy. Have you ever heard the expression, curiosity killed the cat? Who are you? Who is this? Who do you think? I'm section 13. This is what we call a honeypot trap. It's how we recruit scientists we know will break the law for us. Never refuse this recruit.
Speaker: You're kidding, right? I just heard you say that you might go to re -education for this. Wait, you heard that? We're section 13, buddy. We hear everything.
Speaker: Say I accept. What then? You become a barber. A tatajin pilot trained to heal. You know about those because of your brother, right? You'll serve on a section 13 vessel at the behest of the Connie. <unk> A board of spy vessel?
Speaker: You are not high enough on the food chain to get answers. You only get orders. Report to the coordinates sent to your device. There, you will receive Borg implants and be transferred to Iron Man Academy to begin your enlisted barber training. I'm the best I've ever noticed this in three quadrants. I can do it myself. You'll need Borg neural tech, doctor.
Speaker: Oh, I got that covered. Doctor, this path you walk down, once you get to the other side, you will no longer be you. For what it's worth, I am sorry. Well, you know what they say. Honor and glory.
Speaker: Across the galaxy, Commander Leela Desai ends her communication. Make sure the Arknities is ready for him on the Hoodoo. Of course, Chairman. I know this is hard for you, Commander, but it's necessary. You sometimes forget I am older than you, boy. I know where this goes better than anybody. So you better hope this is fucking necessary. Get out of my office, Chairman. Of course, Commander.
Speaker: With the cold embrace of his lab, Cepac de la Nomad stands resolute. The steely glint of Borg implants in his hand, reflecting the resolve in his heart. With unwavering hands, he brings the tools to his face. The procedure is his penance, a crossing of the Rubicon from which there is no return. The eyes are at the windows to the soul, and mine was closed to open new doors.
Speaker: The hollow void where his human eyes once resided is now a gateway for the bored prosthetics, the vison of cold precision.
Speaker: You do great. His vision, once veiled by the limits of flesh, now burst forth in a cascade of data streams and infrared spectrum. The transformation is monstrous, yet enlightened.
Speaker: It's clarity. It's incredible.
Speaker: I can control it. Focus it. I'm ready.
Speaker: Specialist CPAC Dela Nomad, Sam Ramos.
Speaker: Crewman Jorge Miguel Falco voices by Francisco Silvestre Hernandez and Chris Crowell.
