Episode Report Card Strega: F | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Strifeboat
By Strega | Season 1 | Episode 16 | Aired on 02.12.2002
It's cold on the shuttle. I can tell because of the frosted windows and the foggy breath and the shivering cast members. Trip and Malcolm have bundled up like Russian figure skaters, which is to say that they aren't really bundled up at all. Well, they zipped up their jackets and put on baseball caps. Setting aside the fact that spacesuits should be standard equipment on a freaking shuttle, and even forgetting that on a multi-day trip in close quarters, I'd hope they'd bring along some spare clothes -- yes, I said leaving aside all that -- we know for a fact that there are blankets. When you know it's going to get colder, you start bundling up. Immediately. To trap your body heat close to you. While you're still warm. Argh. I have better survival skills than these people, and I've never so much as gone camping. Fine. Anyway. Malcolm's gone back to dictating "Hi! I'm dead!" letters, while Trip is playing with an erector set or something. Malcolm blithers on about how picturing the smile of whomever he's talking to gives him comfort, and finishes up. Trip reports...nothing much, so Malcolm starts a new letter. Trip snaps, "This is your fifth or sixth identical letter!" Malcolm says that there are subtle differences: "I would never refer to Rochelle as having a beautiful smile. With her, it was the eyes." Someone flips the "random character emotion" switch, and Trip starts brooding about how young his crewmates were. Malcolm wonders if the Captain would have any regrets, but Trip brushes that off: "They died doing what they loved." Well, but the Captain still might regret the fact that they died, Trip. They talk briefly about Hoshi, and Trip says he plans on telling her family "just how essential she was." In person, you see. Because he's still got those rose-colored scanners. Oh great, they're bickering again about whether or not they'll die. I wish they'd just kiss and get it over with.
Trip suggests that it's time for a last meal, although Malcolm just mentioned that they've got thirty-three hours left, so it seems like Captain Optimism is jumping the gun just a little. Malcolm isn't hungry, which supports that theory, so Trip pulls out the bourbon and proposes that they start drinking instead. Another survival fact: if you're already in danger of freezing, getting drunk is a bad idea. You feel warmer, but your body temperature falls. Not to mention that I'd save the bourbon for the last few hours. Unless maybe the plan is to be so hungover that they'll be happy to die. Trip pours a couple of shots, hands the glass to Malcolm, and says, "Live a little. That's an order!" What a great guy. Trip gulps his bourbon and pulls out...hell, I don't know. Futuristic Sterno or something. He inserts a length of wick and lights it. Burning stuff when you're low on oxygen is another loser move, if you ask me. I think Trip would be better off cursing the darkness. Malcolm asks if Trip is deluded enough to think that the makeshift candle will warm them up, and Trip replies, "The bourbon will provide the heat. The candle's just for mood." Wow -- I have no idea what that means, but I was just kidding about the kiss, guys. Trip proposes a toast to their dead comrades, and they drink. Malcolm has the sense to note that the candle is using up oxygen. Trip says, "We'll probably be dead five or six minutes earlier than we woulda been. I can live with that." Well, the point is that you can't, actually. Trip adds that Malcolm seems to think, "The sooner, the better," as far as their impending death goes. Plaintive music toodles as Malcolm and Trip have a heartfelt conversation about Malcolm's difficulties relating to people. Malcolm sniffles about how he can't get close to people, but it was different with the crew, and would you just die already? Trip blows out the candle and intones, "All of the sudden, five or six more minutes sounds kinda nice." And I think we all know what he means. The camera discreetly moves to a CGI exterior so that we don't have to watch.
Some time later, Malcolm and Trip have finally wrapped themselves in blankets. And yes, they're still dressed. I don't know where you get these ideas. Ahem. There's a bit less than half a bottle of bourbon left. A burst of static leads Malcolm to wonder if that's "the galaxy giggling at [them] again." Oh joy, they're drunk. Trip stares around and slurs, "It can giggle all it wants, but that galaxy's not gettin' any of our bourbon!" Malcolm leans in and asks if Trip thinks T'Pol is pretty. Trip points out that she's a Vulcan. Malcolm asks, "You ever noticed her bum?" Sweet Lord, take me now. He keeps saying "bum" for a while, and Trip has a slug of bourbon. I wish I had some bourbon. There's a quiet beep, and Trip rushes to the controls and tries to bring in the signal. Yeah, getting drunk was a great plan. Malcolm remembers that they can't respond, just as the signal clears up and we hear Hoshi announce that they're transmitting new rendezvous coordinates. Trip yelps, "That's Hoshi! That's impossible!" Malcolm punches Trip's shoulder and tells him not to be pessimistic, and is that the grand finale of the character development? Blink and you'd miss it. They go on laughing cheerfully instead of actually listening to the message, but finally catch the part about how the new rendezvous is in two days. D'oh. Or at least Trip hears it, and slumps down sadly while Malcolm goes on being gleeful. Hoshi also asks them to respond, but I guess there's no sense in assuming that failing to do so would indicate any kind of problem. Malcolm finally stops celebrating long enough to learn that they're both still doomed. You know, it would be pretty cool if they really did die. I mean, it'd be surprising, at least. And they'd have good odds of winning the next Darwin Awards.