Episode Report Card Keckler: B | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Cap'n Don't Preach
By Keckler | Season 1 | Episode 5 | Aired on 10.16.2001
Mayweather pilots a shuttle into docking lock on the alien ship and tells Trip, "It's too bad the ship-to-ship sensors are down -- would've been nice to get a look at them." Don't worry, I'm sure Trip will count their breasts and take pictures for you, Boomer. Trip makes a crack about thinking of it as a blind date, and opens the hatch. He signals to Cpt. Quantum that he's going in, and the Captain tells him to keep his com channel open: "We'll be right here." Mayweather helps Trip with all his baggage as he climbs into the decompression chamber. "Don't forget to come back for me," Trip tells him. "I don't know, we are kind of busy," Mayweather cracks, sliding deeper into the Harry Kim Sinkhole Of Never Having His Own Story Line. Trip sits down in a copper-paneled chamber as a bright light is shined on him. He calls out "Hello?" a few times before smoke starts filling the chamber. He coughs, and a voice tells him, "Try to maintain your normal rate of respiration." "This stuff's burning my lungs!" Trip yells. "Maintain your normal rate of respiration, the discomfort will subside," the voice tells him. Trip looks around wildly, still hacking up a lung, and the music tells us we're supposed to believe that the aliens pulled a fast one and are actually poisoning him. Does it strike anyone that Cpt. Quantum is just so naively trusting? Oh, they need our help? We'll help them. They say they mean no harm? We'll believe them. I really think he's running risks of which Starfleet's Blue Cross Blue Shield would not have approved.
Enterprise and the alien vessel glide along side by side. Cpt. Quantum's feeding Porthos in his quarters when T'Pol intercoms him, saying, "Commander Tucker's calling again, sir, he's rather anxious." Cpt. Quantum has him patched through. Trip, in a shouting voice, asks how long it's been. "About five minutes longer than the last time you asked," Cpt. Quantum tells him, and asks how his poison gas breathing's going. "A lot easier, but I prefer air I can't see," Trip whines, pacing in his chamber. Yeah, you belong on space missions. Wimp. Cpt. Quantum tells him that the air will clear up in the last half hour of decompression. "I feel like I've been in here for a week!" Trip shouts. "You've only got forty-five minutes left, Trip, be patient," Cpt. Quantum tells him, and hangs up. Guess they don't say "goodbye" in outer space either.
In his chamber, Trip idly watches a panel flash colored lights at him. "Blue, one. Green, three. Yellow, two. Orange, five. Yellow, three. Red, four," the lights go faster. "Whoa! That's too fast, I'm not a computer!" Trip calls out, annoyed that the Star Trek edition of Simon defeated him. There's a hissing noise as the chamber door slides open. Bald aliens in silver catsuits scrutinize Trip. One greets him and tells him he hopes the acclimation process wasn't too traumatic. The camera tilts at wild and crazy angles to make us that realize Trip's trippin'. Again. Trip groggily mutters back, "Blue, three. Yellow, six. Orange, four," by way of a response. The Greeter Alien tells him that the perceptual tests are the best way they have of telling whether their visitors are acclimated enough for their environment. Another alien, female if voices can tell you anything, tells him that they have food for him. "Not right now, thank you," Trip slurs. Maybe he needs to use the bathroom after those three hours in a confined environment. Greeter Alien tells him, "We strongly recommend that you get some rest." But Trip, weird little blister that he is, shrugs this suggestion off and says he wants to see the engine room. The female alien leads the way. Trip sees an alien running his hand over a panel, generating blue sparks. The female alien leads him past some oblong windows with minnowy sea creatures swimming by. That's straight out of Dr. No, thank you very much.