Star Trek: Prodigy

Captain's Log.

Stardate, uh...

ah, who cares?

We just barely escaped Starfleet

by hiding in the Neutral Zone.

And we're not escaping anything else

until we get our nacelles fixed.

- Whoa, ahh! - But at least we have Okona.

Why thank you, kind stranger.

As Murf gets used to his new body...

Whoa!

We are getting used to the new Murf.

Murf, Murf!

I--oh, please, Murf.

Stop it now!

- But at least we have Okona. - Now that is a brilliant idea.

You know, for someone who's been on our ship

for such a short time,

it stings that the crew's taken to him so quickly,

but I get it.

I mean, look at him.

He knows who he is.

And what am I?

Just some handsome lost kid with questions.

But one day I'll find out where I came from.

Whoa, whoa!

Dal!

And as for Okona, he'll be the one...

- Dal! - A million miles away.

Dal.

Did you find a starport?

Huh, starport?

That blast from the "Dauntless"

toasted our Proto-Drive, put Janeway on the fritz,

and if we don't find somewhere to dock,

we're never fixing this ship.

Yeah, uh, right.

Uh, starport...

- Hmm. - I'm sensing our captain is--

What's the expression? Utterly clueless.

If you're so familiar with the Neutral Zone,

- why don't you look? - Oh, hey.

You can park and patch up at Noble Isle.

Oh, yeah,

"You can park and patch at the"--

No, I do business there...

- Ugh. - All the time.

It's an old stomping ground,

and I was headed there anyway.

Noble Isle?

Can we go? Can we go?

I wanna stomp around his stomping ground.

Okona's correct.

I'm detecting a starport near an M-Class planet.

It could have the parts we need.

Oh, and while there, could one of you explain

to my client how their cargo got tossed

back at Denaxi Depot?

Mm, did you do something to your hair?

I bet you say that to every advisory hologram.

That wouldn't be a wise wager.

Admiral, I urge you to reconsider.

We have kids on a disabled ship

in the Neutral Zone and Romulans on our doorstep

who want nothing more than to steal our technology.

We're facing our own Kobayashi Maru.

As untrustworthy as the Romulans can be,

we're finally working towards peace.

The "Dauntless" is not to enter the Neutral Zone,

even to retrieve the "Protostar."

Your request is denied, Vice Admiral.

If Officer Frex is right,

we can't let this unknown weapon

aboard the "Protostar" fall into Romulan hands.

I am aware of the risks.

But I'm also aware your personal feelings

might be clouding your professional obligations.

Finding Captain Chakotay isn't--

You have your orders.

Should the Romulans attempt to steal it,

destroy the "Protostar."

Welcome to Noble Isle.

Whatever parts you need, they got 'em.

What's with the big pointy thing?

That big pointy thing is the only way

on or off that rock, a space elevator.

It's a big archaic, but with all the ion storms,

there's no ships, no navigation,

no beaming down.

It's perfect for businesses of a sensitive nature.

What do you mean, sensitive?

Noble Isle is the forefront of cutting-edge science.

They're doing things here that the Federation can't

or, uh, won't, all in the name of pushing the boundaries.

Science?

I'm coming with you.

Who else is ready for shore leave?

I like shore leave.

This isn't shore leave.

We're here to fix the ship.

- Remember? - Then it's settled.

The Away Team will venture down to look for parts

while Jankom and I will stay to make repairs.

Be careful.

When he says "cutting edge,"

he means unregulated.

There's a reason Starfleet has laws

about scientific experimentation.

If it's too good to be true, it probably is.

- Whoa! - Ahh!

Oh, my goodness.

It's so science-y.

Don't let your genes impede your dreams.

I'm Dr. Jago,

and through my genetic augmentation process,

I'll bring out the best in you.

A geneticist?

I've been reading about that.

Well, I can introduce you.

Because that's the client I'm here to see.

This is so cool.

That's a double helix, and those bases are adenine,

guanine, cytosine, and--

Thymine.

Very good.

I am Dr. Jago.

And you are late with my shipment.

Where is my gelatinous putrescine?

I know, I know.

But as my friends can attest,

there was a mix-up at the depot,

and unfortunately, your goods were permanently misplaced.

Oh! Let me guess.

The Federation inhibiting science yet again.

Tell me about it.

I'll make it up to you.

Ooh! You already have.

Ah, tell me, who is this beautiful specimen?

Uh...

Such interesting mandibula.

Uh, is this how you greet strangers here?

The unique coloration.

The skull ganglia.

You've seen someone like him?

Never, but his origins are obvious.

Whoa, whoa.

You know where I came from?

Not where.

But who.

Ow!

Hair.

For DNA.

Aha, as I suspected.

You're the handiwork

of the protégés of Dr. Arik Soong,

a geneticist who defected from the Federation.

Wait a minute.

Are you telling them Dal was made in a lab?

As you can see,

Dal is the product

of artificial hybrid speciation.

It's when you combine the DNA of different species

to create something original.

It appears they began with a sample

of an unremarkable humanoid specimen,

mostly likely Homo sapien.

Unremarkable?

I'm...

human?

Human Augment

blended with the most recessive traits of 26 species.

I see traces of Vulcan, Proto-Organian...

Sloppy work, in my opinion.

Miracle you can talk.

I was born in a petri dish?

So I don't have any parents?

There's no one else like you.

That's cool.

Right?

Tough break, kid.

All this time...

I'm just some failed experiment.

That doesn't change the way we see you.

You're more than that.

- Oh, I'm sorry. - Why the long faces?

Oh, maybe I didn't make myself clear.

I can bring out the best in you.

My epigenetic dermal implant

can activate dormant genes

while also stimulating rapid cell division,

and the best part,

it's a fast, simple procedure, and no one will know.

What does that mean?

Basically, with the push of a button--

I can make you better.

I can fix you.

But it will change you, Dal.

Dal, you don't need fixing.

We're here to fix the ship.

"If it's too good to be true..."