PHLOX: Essentially, but one that is born, grows old and dies in approximately fifteen days. The Lyssarrians call them mimetic simbiots. They're a closely guarded secret. Very few people know of their existence.
PHLOX: To harvest it's neural tissue for transplant. There's no guarantee that human DNA will stimulate the larvae's growth cycle, but as it stands now it may be Commander Tucker's only hope for survival. To ensure the tissue's compatibility, I'll have to wait until the simbiot reaches Commander Tucker's present physical age, then I can excise the tissue from a non-critical region of the simbiot's cerebral region. It would experience no discernable side effects and should be able to live out its normal life span.
PHLOX: I don't make this proposal lightly, Captain, but I'm obligated to provide you with all available options.
T'POL: We sent out an EV team. They retrieved a sample of the substance accumulating on the hull. Multiple hits with a plasma rifle were required to dislodge it. It's composed of highly charged particles, mostly ferric ions, but there are several elements that we can't identify. And it's highly magnetic. So far, the danger to the ship seems negligible.
ARCHER: But the longer we remain in the field, the more these particles build up. Do whatever you have to do, but we need to get those engines back online.
T'POL: Understood. Regarding the Lyssarian procedure Doctor Phlox proposed, may I ask if you've reached a decision?
T'POL: Simbiots are living, conscious entities. We'll be growing a sentient being for the sole purpose of harvesting tissue.
ARCHER: I'm aware of the ethical implications. If we weren't in the Expanse maybe my decision would be different, but we've got to complete this mission. Earth needs Enterprise, Enterprise needs Trip. It's as simple as that. Captain's Starlog, supplemental. The engines are still down and the nucleonic particles continue to build up on the hull. It's been two days since Doctor Phlox initiated the procedure to grow the simbiot.
[Sickbay] PHLOX: It's rather sensitive to light at this stage. By tomorrow morning, if all goes well, we'll have a healthy baby boy on our hands. (The next day, it is now a newborn) PHLOX: Perfect genetic duplicate, right down to the birthmark on his right side.
PHLOX: And hungry. Excuse me. There, there. Oh, it's been some time since I've had a newborn, but I see I haven't lost my touch.
(The baby suckles happily.) ARCHER: Three days ago he was just another one of your creatures, something you kept on a shelf.