Ah! The blood of my enemies is forever immortalized
on my d'k tahg.
I can still taste their final panicked screams.
My death will be ecstasy.
A glorious end that will take me straight to Sto'Vo'Kor.
I have honored my house, but will you?
How many soldiers in the Klingon empire
will be proving their toduj?
- Four! - I heard... four.
And so begins the greatest adventure of your lives.
You will all die on this quest,
but will you do it with honor?
- Yeah! - Honor!
Come on, natural 20.
Qapla'! You've rolled an 18,
which means the petaQ is frozen in fear
by your battle cry.
Okay, while he's cowering,
I strike him down with my mek'leth.
- Your blow landed. - Whoo!
But his brother swears revenge.
Reinforcements are on their way.
I can't believe Martok recorded all this.
You'd think he'd be too busy being a chancellor and stuff.
No, no, he didn't. It's a Ferengi knockoff.
They do it for all the famous Klingons.
I've been trying to get the Gowron expansion for months.
Ah, it's so nice to all be back together.
I needed a break from all the battles and court-martials.
It hasn't been a break for me.
Ransom's made it his mission to catch me messing up.
He's been riding my ass
just waiting for me to break protocol.
Ah, I would love to be a number one's number one.
RANSOM [over comm]: Ensign Mariner, where are you?
In the repair bay, repairing stuff.
When we have a mission briefing, I expect you to be early.
It doesn't start for an hour!
I know. You're almost late
for being early. Move it!
Are you coming, Rutherford?
Nah, I want to finish playing.
I'll just be regular early.
I punch my own chest, excited for more foes to vanquish.
Your battle chest punches fail to boost your stamina.
- Dang it. - You know, I think
this whole Ransom thing might be good for Mariner.
She hasn't been in the brig in forever.
Yeah. Making the best of a bad situation
worked for Vendome.
That's how he got to be captain so fast.
Yeah, right. Captain Vendome.
Oh, can you imagine?
What do you mean? He's a captain.
You didn't hear?
Ha! Captain of what, the USS Gullible?
Guys, I'm not falling for this.
No, of the Inglewood.
Yeah. He transferred there months ago.
Dude, are you messing with us?
The Inglewood? Tha-That's Chapman's ship.
It was until a temporal rift turned him into a baby.
Vendome got a field promotion,
- and it stuck. - What?!
But-but he's a goofball.
Vendome's the guy who gets hit with a spear
on away missions.
Well, that goofball breezed up the ranks.
"...completing a meteoric rise to captain."
I can't believe this.
Every single thing I do is calculated
to help me make captain one day,
and this guy just lucks into it.
I wouldn't say it was luck.
Vendome was always saying yes to new opportunities.
He volunteered for any mission he could, good or bad.
- Now look at him. - Tendi, it's not that easy.
I can't just go jumping into things
without knowing the risks.
Warrior, you discover
a shortcut through the caves of T'rachmor.
Do you enter the darkness?
No way. I'm not trying to get cave killed.
I'll stay on the path.
Ah! Ambush by House Dormat!
You beg for your life like a bIHnuch
and live out the rest of your days not as a warrior
but as a dentist.
- Ouch. - Aw, man.
Brutal.
Dulaine has a thermosphere
that's messy with charged ions,
so transporters are out of the picture.
Instead, they've built a system of orbital lifts,
one of which is malfunctioning.
So, it's a broken-down space elevator?
They're not elevators.
- They're orbital lifts.
The Cerritos is hosting
all the passengers who got stuck here
while we repair and coordinate with Dulainians on the ground.
All right. Ooh, coordinating is my specialty.
These guys are one of those sexy cultures
that run everywhere and kiss hello, right?
Their society is wellness-based, yes.
Well-yes, let's get down there and get the party started.
We aren't going anywhere.
Mr. Billups, you and your man are heading planetside
- to liaise with the Dulainians. - What?!
Really? I mean,
usually engineers are the ones who do the repairs,
but if that's what you want, then...
But they'd be better and faster at this than us.
Don't question my orders, Ensign.
We're perfectly capable of repairing an elev...
uh, an orbital lift.
Mr. Billups, just give the Dulainians our greetings,
keep them apprised of the repairs and, uh...
Try not to have too much fun down there.
- Yes, sir.
Hmm.
Did you know that Vendome
staffed his whole bridge crew with Bolians?
Ooh, I didn't. But that's really cool.
I know, right?
No matter how careful I am, no matter how hard I try,
I feel like I'm gonna be an ensign
- for the rest of my life. - Again,
if planning and trying aren't working,
maybe don't do that.
- You sound like Mariner. - Well, look at me.
It wasn't my plan to get into senior science officer training.
It just happened. And now I've got
so much new stuff to study, and I'm loving it!
That could be you if you tried something new.
Yo, Boimler.
We got an open spot in the springball tournament.
We need a wiry dude who's hard to hit.
- You want in? - Sweaty muscleheads
drilling balls at my face? No, thanks.
Wow. Could've just said no, man.
Boimler. Vendome?
Uh, wait!
Sherwyns, I'm in.
Let's-let's do this. Let's, uh,
spring that ball.
Good game, Ensign.
- I'm impressed.
By my athletic ab-b-bility?
What? No, no, no. By that sustained scream
when I bowled you over. You were really wailing.
Thanks. I get a lot of practice.
Listen, I run a choir when I'm off duty.
Bajoran dirges. I've been looking for a soprano.
You interested?
A dirge choir? I...
will try that. Sure, yeah.
- Let's, uh, let's get dirgey. - All right!
That's the ticket. You're gonna have a blast!
We've got the saddest dirges in the quadrant.
You honor the Prophets
with that pitch, Bradward.
If you ever need a favor, I'm a combadge tap away.
Really? Uh, wow. Uh, thank you, sir.
Mr. Boimler.
Aah! Geez, Lundy, you're too...
Oh, you're too scary, man.
You can't jump out at people like that.
Can I guess your weight?
I'd peg you at a healthy 61.2 kilos.
Wow. Uh, yeah. That's e-exactly right.
Mm. My figure drawing class needs a skeletal boy
for our life drawing this afternoon.
Have you ever sat for oil?
Uh...
Oil me up.
Ow.
- What the hell even is this? - [grunting] 20.
I hope you're-- 21--
being careful not to-- 22--
misalign the dampeners. 23.
Are you really lifting right now?
I'd barely call this lifting. Oh, yeah.
You know, two people working on this
would get it done so much faster.
You know, like two engineer-type people?
Can an engineer do that?
Uh, yeah. With a step stool.
Billups to Commander Ransom. Come in.
How's it going down there, Billups?
I'll tell you, these Dulainians are a friendly people.
You know they kiss instead of shaking hands?
- With tongue! - Yeah, with tongue.
Control yourself, Andy. We wouldn't want you
to accidentally become a king down there.
I don't know if I'll have time.
Because we have a dance coming up,
then a feast and then a drinking competition.
Are you for real?
I could get real used to this kind of treatment.
Maybe I should transfer divisions again.
We'll join you guys when we're done up here.
- The repairs seem simple enough.
Mmm. Did you remember to decouple the flow inverters
before reconnecting the conduit piping?
Uh... Of course I did. Who wouldn't?
Great. Well, I got to go.
There's some sort of wrestling display on,
and they need a judge.
Oh, yeah, baby! Let's go!
Did you decouple the flow inverters?
Of course I did. Just focus on your own work.
You know, it's not a big deal
to admit that we should be down there
and they should be up here.
Starfleet isn't all about being fed fruit
by erotic aliens with slightly different nose ridges.
Sometimes you got to get your hands dirty.
Engineers would've been done with this hours ago.
Arguing with your commanding officer
isn't gonna get the job done any sooner.
Aah! Oh, no. Oh, no,
- no, no, no, no.
- Oh, hey.
Hey. What's with all the new faces?
We're hosting everyone that got stranded
on the orbital lift while it gets repaired.
That's cool. Listen, you were totally right earlier.
I've been saying yes to everything today,
going way outside my comfort zone,
and so far, Shaxs says he owes me a favor,
I'm not afraid of Chief Lundy anymore...
It's just been a really great day.
Oh, I love that for you, Boims.
See? When you get rid of the plan,
you leave room for good things.
From now on, the new plan is say yes to everything.
But that's, uh, still a plan.
How about just no plan?
Nope. Today, I am a new Boimler.
A bold Boimler.
And the next person who asks me to do something,
I'm saying yes no matter what.
- K'RANCH: Excuse me.
I am K'Ranch.
I was supposed to be on the planet by now,
but the space elevator is broken.
Hi, K'Ranch. Welcome to the Cerritos.
I'm Tendi, and this is Boimler.
K'RANCH: My species has an undeniable natural urge to hunt.
This delay to the planet has been weighing on me.
Would either of you be willing to...
...be willing to be hunted?
Oh, no, thank you. Maybe you should see
if Dr. T'Ana can help you out in sickbay.
Wait. Uh, Mr. K'Ranch,
I'm gonna say yes to the hunted.
- To-to being hunted. - Uh...
Uh, just because you said you were going to say yes
to the next person who asked you to do something
doesn't mean you have to do this.
You can do the next one.
Eh, you're right...
is what the old Boimler would have said.
It would be an honor if you hunted me, sir.
Let's do it.
You are now my prey.
The hunt begins in one hour.
It won't be as bad as it sounds.
What are you doing?! You only have an hour!
- Run! Run! Run!
At this point, everything should be lining up.
All you need to do is align the magnetic seal on the panel,
and the repair is complete.
Magnetic seal? I don't even...
What the hell is she talking about?
Billups, these space elevators use
Federation standard measurements, right?
Uh, we've run into a little bit
of a diplomacy problem down here.
You dare enter the sacred hall
without an exposed navel?!
Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't know.
What's going on down there? It sounds a little tense.
Uh, well, I don't know how well you know Dulainian religion,
but we weren't wearing the right outfits in the right place,
and now the locals are getting pretty testy, so maybe,
sir, you could, uh, come down here and help smooth things out.
- That would be great. - Ha!
I knew it. All right, let's go.
No can do, Billups.
What?
We still have work to do up here.
Show them your belly buttons. You'll be fine.
We tried that, and it just made them angrier.
No, look. Our B-buttons are out and about.
Just explain that we respect all cultures
and, you know, morality
and the Prime Directive and all that stuff.
Okay, I'll try it.
Jack... Uh, sir, okay, you've made your point.
Can we please just go down there and lend a diplomatic hand?
Billups can rebuild the navigation computer blindfolded.
I think he can handle some angry locals.
He clearly can't! Is it really worth
endangering those guys just to get under my skin?
My command decisions
have nothing to do with your sensitivities.
You need to learn how to trust your superiors, Ensign.
Fine. I'm gonna go work over there
so I don't have to watch you fumble around
- with that stupid pipe. - I'm not fumbling!
Uh, hello? Mr. K'Ranch, sir?
What do you want, prey?
I was just wondering, when you say
you're gonna hunt me, you mean, like,
- metaphorically, right?
K'RANCH: There are only three types of prey.
You are the first type:
immobilized by your fear.
The second type scurries away to hide,
delaying the inevitable.
Uh, what's the third kind?
The third is a winged lizard-type creature
that doesn't really apply to you.
Oh, okay. Yeah. No, I'm just gonna scurry away
while I think about it. When does the hunt start?
It already has!
Oh, no!
No, no, no!
Someone's trying to kill me!
Captain, you got to help me. I'm being hunted.
What? Not on my ship.
That's totally unacceptable.
Security, I need a team on Deck Three.
Oh, thank God. It's this big guy called K'Ranch.
I told him he could hunt me in the bar,
- but that was a mistake, and... - K'Ranch?
Well, that's different.
- Security, belay that order. - What?!
I shared a lovely brunch earlier today with K'Ranch.
: You know, he's quite the charmer.
I'm glad he found someone to partake in his Venarix hunt.
But I don't want to be hit with an arrow or a boomerang
or any of that. Please, Captain.
Ensign, we have to respect his culture.
And didn't you give him your word?
- I want my word back.
- Oh, he's good. You better run.
- Thanks again for the mimosas. - My pleasure.
- Happy hunting.
Sir, we could really use your help.
The Dulainians saw that Lieutenant Billups had an outie,
and now he's being sacrificed to Morgo,
which I think is a sentient volcano.
Help!
Just demand to parley with their leader
and explain they cannot sacrifice Mr. Billups. Okay?
Straight spine. Speak from the diaphragm.
Right. Okay. Also, their leader
is either an ancient god or a telepathic baby.
They're kind of dancing around it.
Sounds like you're narrowing it down. You got this.
Uh, right. Okay.
I'll speak from the diaphragm.
Help me!
- I demand parley! - Help!
- Hello? Someone?
Oh!
Ugh! I'm gonna do it.
I'm just gonna do it. I don't care.
I don't care. All right.
I'm coming, Ruthy!
Yeah!
Ransom to Mariner. Come in.
Crap.
What's up, sir?
Mariner, I was, uh... What's that sound?
- Is that wind? - Uh, I, uh...
I had to open up an exterior pressure conduit. Oh!
Ah, right. The old pressure conduit.
Well, I've been doing some thinking, and you were right.
I was going out of my way to try to prove
that you would disobey my orders if you felt you knew better.
But you stayed on task. You didn't go rogue.
Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah.
Anyway, listen, those engineers are in way over their heads.
It's time for us to go save their butts.
I'll come meet you in Section Eight.
- - What? You okay?
I-I-I was just saying, "Yah!
Sounds good," sir.
Where are you, prey?
...am a proud soldier of the Klingon Empire!
- Shut it.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
Stupid Ferengi program.
Warrior, fight to the last breath.
Easy for you to say. I'm not a Klingon.
I-I-I tried to be bold today, but I just ended up as prey.
The only way you can lose now is by letting
your foe define who you are.
Never back down! Never cower!
The hunt is on.
- K'Ranch!
I am not your prey.
I am Bold Boimler!
I haven't backed down all day,
and I'm not starting now.
You better run, because now the hunted
has become...
Oh, my God!
- No, no, no!
The hunted always tries to become the hunter.
Tale old as time.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I didn't say you could kill me.
Stop! Please!
And with that, my hunt has ended.
Y-You're not gonna kill me?
Kromsapiods practice catch and release.
We respect life above all else.
That's why we hunt.
Oh, thank God.
You were excellent prey,
but I do have notes.
Can you maybe give them to me in sickbay?
When you decide to switch it up and become the hunter,
you can't just announce it and stand there.
Stick and move, you know?
Uh-huh, yeah. I'll keep that in mind.
You have earned my respect, Bradward Boimler.
I will be passing along high praise to your captain.
Really? Thank you.
Maybe just one more for the boys back home.
Climbing wall? For real?
This stupid society
built on exercise and wellness.
Okay.
Whoa!
Sorry I'm late. Had to make a quick trip
- to the little commanders' room. - No biggie.
I've just been waiting here the whole time.
This is gonna sound crazy, Mariner,
but since we don't have a shuttle
and the elevator still won't descend,
we're gonna have to skydive down.
Oh, wow. That's a wild plan, sir. It's wild.
I know. But if we hurry, we can make it in time.
Maybe... Maybe we take a quick break?
Good one.
- Let's roll.
Yeah!
We come to you, Volcanic Lord Morgo!
Navel of the Planet!
We sacrifice these sinners in the name
of Mendrick, our psychic baby leader,
and his coleader, 355,
the sentient computer!
Ooh, they weren't lying. This did get complicated.
Wow. Psychic baby, evil computer and a volcano?
You guys ever heard of overkill?
It provides a system
of checks and balances.
How dare you question our method of governance.
Throw them in the volcano.
For what it's worth, sir,
it was an honor serving with you.
Oh, Samanthan, the honor is mine.
Wait!
I demand parley!
You live a health-based way of life, correct?
Yes.
It is our highest calling.
- Then behold.
Wow.
Your lava tubes are perfect.
You are wise, Starfleet.
We will hear you out.
Although we all come
from different worlds, we are only slightly different.
- Yo, yo.
You, uh, you wanted to see me, sir?
I owe you an apology. I assumed
you'd be looking for ways to piss me off
and flame out. I was wrong to push it.
Thanks. I-I really want to stay on the Cerritos.
I-It was good work today, but this was just one day.
Don't think it erased all the insubordination
I've gotten from you in the past.
Yep. Yes, sir. Message received.
Sir, you were really impressive down there,
the way you navigated that volcano
and the baby and all that.
Save it for your personal log, Mariner.
Buttering me up is not gonna make
your life any easier.
All right.
Yeah, I was pretty impressive.
So, Ransom's a dick, and I hate him.
Oh, sounds like today went well.
I mean, he did keep me from getting dumped into lava.
No. He was the whole reason you were dangling over the lava
- to start with. - Nah. That was on me.
I really should have had my belly button out.
You eat breakfast and gain plus-three stamina!
Damn, they really programmed Martok
with, like, full intensity at all times.
Hey, there he is. How's the shoulder?
Dr. T'Ana says it'll probably always feel a little off,
- but it's fine. - Uh, sorry.
I kind of feel responsible since I was the one
who told you to go against your plans.
All those years of trying too hard
never got me half the recognition that I got today.
Plus nerve damage.
Plans are officially out the air lock.
I'm Bold Boimler from here on out.
I'm not sure that was the lesson to learn today, you know?
Uh, how about moderation?
Old Boimler was into moderation.
Bold Boimler is into boldness.
I confidently enter the bar and demand bloodwine.
The bartender rips your arm off and kills you with it.
It is not an honorable death
since, technically, you have died by your own hand.
Ah, whatever. I'm still gonna be bold.
If you'd like to continue,
download the expansion pack, Dinner with Lady Lindor.
- Aw, come on! - You can subscribe
to the entire honorable season by tapping here,
or purchase your worthy adventures à la carte.
Ferengi black market tax not included. All sales final.
Chirp.