The Perfect Mate

See Also: 'The Perfect Mate' Episode Guide

Captain's Log: We are carrying a mysterious, highly valuable gift that Ambassador Briam of Krios will present as a peace offering to Chancellor Alrik of Valt Minor. Our guest says that he would have preferred us to use an armoured delivery ship, so I have dealt with his complaint by ordering the Enterprise's outer hull to be painted in suitable shades of gray.

Picard: Ambassador, I assure you that your precious cargo is secure.
Briam: All the same, I request that you declare your cargo bay to be strictly off limits to everyone.
Picard: Before I do that, I'll need proof that this gift of yours is truly as priceless as you claim.
Riker: (over the comm) Captain, two Ferengi in a damaged shuttlecraft are requesting that we rescue them.
Picard: All right, I'm convinced.

La Forge: I've programmed the Holodeck to look like the ancient Temple of Akadar. It's ready to host the Ceremony of Reconciliation.
Briam: Quite fitting. From here the brothers Krios and Valt once ruled a vast empire until one of them triggered centuries of war by kidnapping the other's beautiful fiancée.
Picard: Was this the place that launched a thousand ships and burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Briam: I'm going to assume that's some kind of human rhetorical question.

Worf: One of the Ferengi tampered with the Ambassador's gift pod! Its stasis field is collapsing!
Briam: Oh no! It's too soon!
Picard: Too soon for what?
Kamala: Hello, handsome. Rrrowr.
Picard: Please give the Ambassador a chance to answer, madam. And kindly remove your hand from my chest.

Briam: Kamala is a rare empathic metamorph -- the first one born on our world in over a century.
Kamala: I can sense what any man wants in a mate, and my personality immediately changes to reflect his desires.
Briam: She also produces elevated levels of sexual
pheromones. She should be kept away from your crew to avoid distracting them.
Picard: Perhaps that would be best. Commander Riker, please escort this lady to some guest quarters.
Riker: Hmm? I'm sorry -- did you say something, Captain uh...er....
Picard: The name's Picard.
Riker: Right. I knew that.

Kamala: This is a nice room. I especially like the romantically low level of the lights.
Riker: I, uh, should be leaving. If you need anything, just ask the comput....
Kamala: (smooch!)
Computer: Warning -- ambient temperature levels approaching the combustion point of Starfleet uniform material.
Riker: Computer, disengage internal sensors in this room, authorization Riker Theta Omicron Sigmmm...mmmmh...uhmmm....

Crusher: Jean-Luc, Kamala's being married off to some grumpy old Chancellor she's never met just to secure a peace treaty between two planets! That's nothing more than prostitution!
Picard: Beverly, even Earth once had its share of passionless arranged marriages, especially back in the days of dynastic rulers.
Crusher: Well I believe that people should marry for love, whether they're royalty or not.
Picard: You mean like King Charles the Third and Queen Camilla?
Crusher: Exactly.

Picard: Are you quarters comfortable?
Kamala: Yes, but I yearn for refined companionship. May I invite you in to discuss letters and philosophy over a cup of tea?
Picard: You shouldn't adapt yourself to me this way. Besides, I'm already married to a special lady -- she's called the Enterprise.
Kamala: What a lovely name. I think I'll drop "Kamala" and start calling myself that.

Data: The Captain has asked me to escort you around the ship.
Kamala: I can see why he chose an emotionless, sexless android to be my chaperone.
Data: Actually, I am capable both of having sex and of simulating a variety of emotional responses.
Kamala: Perhaps you're not that different from other men after all.

Data: The Ten-Forward bar looks rather crowded this evening.
Kamala: I like it that way. Hey, boys! Wanna work up some sweat in the gym with me? Dr. Crusher told me there's a great ThighMaster machine in there I should try.
Rowdy Aliens: Woo-hoo!
Data: On second thought, perhaps a visit to the Arboretum would be better.
Kamala: Whatever you say, Goldeneyes.

Kamala: Maybe I should stay in my quarters after all.
Picard: I'd be grateful if you did. Security informs me that they're running low on riot-control gear.
Kamala: Will you visit me from time to time? We could listen to Mozart, make love, talk about archaeology....
Picard: Kamala, please stop doing this. There's only so much temptation a man can take.

Picard: Are the Ambassador's injuries serious?
Crusher: No, but he'll be in Sickbay for a couple of days.
Picard: Damn. That means I'll have to fill in for him at the ceremony. I'd better start studying the required rituals.
Crusher: I'm sure Kamala will be glad to teach you everything she knows. I just hope the learning curve won't be too steep.
Picard: Not if I can help it.

Picard: Welcome aboard, Chancellor. All is ready for your wedding tomorrow.
Alrik: Never mind that. Where are the Ferengi who injured Ambassador Briam?
Picard: They were arrested and sent to Starbase 117.
Alrik: That's too bad. I was hoping to discuss trade tariffs and currency exchange rate deregulation with them.
Picard: To each his own.

Beverly: Why so gloomy, Jean-Luc? Are you growing attached to Kamala?
Picard: Yes, and I'm having trouble picturing what she'll transform into once she finally meets the Chancellor.
Beverly: From what I've seen of Alrik, my guess would be a cross between a stockbroker and a bureaucrat.
Picard: Oh, thanks a million for that particular image.

Picard: On behalf of the planet Krios, I present you with your bride.
Kamala: I am for you, Alrik of Valt.
Alrik: Nice wedding dress. How much did it cost?
Picard: Sigh.

Briam: Even an elderly man like me finds it hard to resist Kamala's charms. I am perplexed at how you managed to do so.
Picard: Please keep your insinuations to yourself, Ambassador. I already get enough of those whenever Q drops by for a visit.
Briam: Q? Q who?
Picard: He's an omnipotent being.
Briam: I wish I could still say the same for myself. Ah, to be young again....
(Picard watches Kamala's ship depart at Dolorous Speed)

THE END