Episode Report Card Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Pets And Petulance
By Keckler | Season 2 | Episode 5 | Aired on 10.15.2002
Bridge. Quantum and T'Pol leave the turbolift in two very different ways. T'Pol is straight-backed and calm; Quantum is hunched over, holding onto the turbolift walls for support, and gasping like an asthmatic in a hurricane of cat fur. Hoshi hands over her e-pad and crosses her arms. Quantum reads it and looks at Hoshi pointedly. Hoshi looks down as Quantum paces a bit. Behind his back, T'Pol and Hoshi exchange looks again. Quantum chuckles sourly and comments that it isn't so bad. "I was sure there would be something in here about standing on one foot with my eyes shut, reciting 'The Night Before Christmas,'" he snaps. Dude? It's "'Twas The Night Before Christmas," and besides, I doubt these aliens have heard of it. Quantum announces imperiously that he's going back to Sick Bay for more sleep before Porthos's test results are final, and orders T'Pol, "Let me know if this fits with your definition of an appropriate apology!" He hands over the e-pad and stomps out. Hoshi reads over T'Pol's shoulder and wonders, "Do we have a chainsaw on board?" She trots off to look.
Sick Bay. It's 1:32 AM when an alarm rouses Quantum. Phlox answers Quantum's query with the news that Porthos has gone into anaphylactic shock and his cute little body is rejecting the treatment Phlox initiated. "You said we'd know in a few hours if this would work," Quantum gasps. Um, weren't you listening? It's not working -- that's what you now know. Idiot. "Exactly, it's not working," Phlox tells him. Quantum asks if Porthos is going to die. Not answering him, Phlox hands over a hypospray and directs Quantum to fill it with something. Quantum does it and hunchbacks back to Phlox, sliding it into the incubator drawer so that Phlox can reach it with the isolation gloves. Phlox does a few more things and then looks at Porthos' vital signs. "I don't think so," he tells Quantum. "What?" Quantum dumbs. "You asked me if he was going to die," Phlox reminds him. Quantum sighs and asks if he's trying a new treatment. Phlox hums his affirmative and tells him they'll know in a few hours. Quantum leans against the incubator and gazes down at his sleeping puppy. "How are things progressing with the Kreetassans?" Phlox asks. "They've got a perfectly good plasma injector sitting on a shelf somewhere," Quantum growls, "but will they share it with us? Not until I make a fool of myself by going through some series of ritual apologies." Aw, you don't need ritual apologies to help you do that -- you're a natural, Quantum!
Quantum drags a chair next to the incubator. "The fact that Porthos is on death's doorstep doesn't seem to bother any of them!" He jumps up and yells, "They're the ones who should be apologizing, not me! T'Pol thinks I care more about my dog than my ship -- isn't that delightful!" Phlox wonders why Quantum is so hot and bothered by T'Pol's opinion. "She's my Science Officer, my second-in-command -- she should know more than anyone aboard how dedicated I am to this mission -- to every member of this crew," Quantum scowls. Phlox tells him that he didn't answer his question. "Porthos has one paw in beagle heaven because these jerks didn't bother to look at his genetic profile. Am I supposed to ignore that?" Quantum raves on. Phlox comments that he would have thought Trip's opinion meant more to Quantum than T'Pol's, since they've known each other for many years. "It would be nice to have all five plasma injectors working, but it's not essential. We could do fine with four, and the fifth one just started to act up. We might get another ten light years out of it." Quantum slurps down some water.