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Doctor:
"I'll be there... sweetheart."
Torres: "'Sweetheart'? Well, aren't you getting
affectionate in your third trimester." |
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Doctor:
"Sit down and relax, captain. You have a hologram at the
helm." |
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Paris:
"You know, this might be our last chance to be alone...
for the next eighteen years." |
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Doctor:
"Voyager can survive without its warp core... but not
without its captain."
Janeway: "Now, it doesn't have either!" |
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Doctor:
"You wouldn't shoot a pregnant woman, would you?" |
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Doctor:
"Ensign, at your recital last month, I told Lieutenant
Torres that your saxophone playing reminded me of a
wounded targ. I should have put it more delicately. I'm
sorry!" |
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Doctor:
"A pregnant woman should not be eating this! Do you want
to give me an arterial occlusion?
Torres: "Oh, one drumstick is not gonna kill
you!" |
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Doctor:
"I love you, Seven!" |
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Paris:
"Doc... got anything else you'd like to confess?" |
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Doctor:
"Goodbye my friends! Speak well of me."
Janeway: "Is he..."
Torres: "No, I got him."
Doctor: "What happened?"
Torres: "I deleted the extraneous subroutines."
Doctor: "So, I'm not going to decompile?"
Torres: "You'll probably outlive us all." |