Episode Report Card Keckler: B | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Yesterday's Enterprise
By Keckler | Season 1 | Episode 1 | Aired on 09.25.2001
s for a few episodes. Plus, who else hates the Klingons that much? We know there's going to be a war between the Romulans and Earth in Cpt. Quantum's time. Mottled Alien says he will be sure to recover the evidence as instructed: "When will we speak again?" "Don't be concerned with 'when'," Shower Shadow says, becoming even more shadow-like as he disappears. Well, if that doesn't have Time Travel written all over it, I don't know what does.Okay, there's just something about that Sprint PCS commercial where the babysitter pulls an Amelia Bedelia and "flours" the kids that cracks me up. I think it's the little girl laughing at the Sprint PCS guy through her tongue and teeth that really gets me.
In the painfully bright sick bay, Cpt. Quantum examines a glass tube filled with pink squiggly things. "Love what you've done with the place," he tells Dr. Phlox. "Those are immunocytic gel worms -- try not to shake them," Dr. Phlox requests. Cpt. Quantum asks what the good doctor thought of Earth. "Intriguing," Dr. Phlox tells him, taking trays of equipment to the stainless steel counters and cupboards. "I especially liked the Chinese food -- have you ever tried it?" Cpt. Quantum tells him he lived in San Francisco his whole life. "Ah," Dr. Phlox says. "Anatomically, you humans are somewhat simplistic, but what you lack biologically you make up with your charming optimism, not to mention your egg drop soup!" Hee. Cpt. Quantum lifts a round metal cage with holes out of a supply case. "Be very careful with that," Dr. Phlox instructs him. Cpt. Quantum takes a closer look at the cage; it starts to convulse and chitter with something alive. "What's in there?" he asks, quickly handing it over to Dr. Phlox. "An Altarian marsupial," Dr. Phlox tells him, and then speaks to the Altarian marsupial in some alien and metallic-sounding language. Now, I don't speak Altarian, but I swear it sounds like the Doctor says, "He's an android." I know it doesn't make any sense, but that's totally what it sounded like. I rewound it. Cpt. Quantum takes a closer look at the cage. "Their droppings contain the greatest concentration of regenerative enzymes found anywhere," Dr. Phlox says exuberantly. "Their droppings?" Cpt. Quantum says, wrinkling his not-very-pert nose. "If you're going to try to embrace new worlds, you must try to embrace new ideas. That's why the Vulcans initiated the Inter-Species Medical Exchange. There's a lot to be learned!" Dr. Phlox practically sings out. Cpt. Quantum apologizes for taking him away from his program, but Earth doctors have no clue what a Klingon is. "No apologies," Dr. Phlox cries out. "What better time to study human beings than when they're under pressure? It's a rare opportunity and your Klingon friend -- a-ha, I've never had a chance to study a living one!" Cpt. Quantum looks up from the strapped-down and unconscious Klingon and tells him that they'll reach Kronos in eighty hours. "Any chance he'll be conscious by then?" he asks, examining the Klingon's ridged, bare feet. Pew. "There's a chance he'll be conscious in ten minutes," Dr. Phlox tells him, and Cpt. Quantum looks up. "Just not a very good one." "Eighty hours, doctor," Cpt. Quantum repeats. "If he doesn't walk off this ship on his own, he doesn't stand much of a chance." Cpt. Quantum starts to walk out of sick bay. "I'll do the best I can. Optimism, Captain!" Dr. Phlox burbles at the Captain, who turns around and looks at the smiling doctor. Then Phlox's smile deepens -- with the help of computer graphics, no doubt -- into a perfect V. It was really weird-looking. In fact, I think Phlox's smile made viewers across the country jump in their seats. Cpt. Quantum looks taken aback, then smiles to himself and walks out.
Trip emerges from a Jeffries tube and looks up at Mayweather, who's sitting lotus position on the ceiling. It's the newest thing: inverted space yoga. "You're upside down, Ensign," Trip says to him. "Yessir," Mayweather answers back. Trip asks if he'd care to explain his reason. "When I was a kid, we called it the Sweet Spot. Every ship's got one," Mayweather says. Trip looks around: "'Sweet spot'?" Mayweather explains, "It's usually halfway between the grav generator and the bow plate. Grab a hold of the hatch," he instructs his senior officer, who places his hands in front of him. "No, no, no, on either side," Mayweather says. Trip does so. "Now push off," Mayweather tells him. Trip gives him a skeptical look. "Push off!" Mayweather says encouragingly. Trip pushes off. "Wow," he crows, "Whooa!" and slams his back into the ceiling. Better tell T'Pol to keep away; otherwise that silicone's going to be kissing the tiles. "It takes practice," Mayweather tells him calmly, looking for all the world like a Yoda-esque guru on a mountaintop. Trip pulls himself around so he's sitting on the ceiling too. Mayweather asks him if he's ever slept in zero gravity. "Slept?" Trip asks. "It's just like being back in the womb," Mayweather tells him. Yes, because we all have such perfect memories of what that's like. Trip looks around uneasily and says to Mayweather, "The Captain tells me you've been to Trillius Prime." Mayweather nods, "It took fourth, fifth, and sixth grades to get there. I've also been to Draylax and both the Teneebian moons." They kinda look like aliens as they talk upside down like that -- it's a cool effect. "I've only been to one inhabited planet besides Earth," Trip sighs. "And nothin' there but dust-dwellin' ticks." Mayweather smiles at his naiveté. "Is it true the women on Draylax have --" Mayweather nods, "Three, yeah, it's true." Three…what? Eyes? Feet? Tongues? Seriously. I want to know. "You know that firsthand?" Trip asks, not wanting a planet of three-toed women to be an interplanetary rumor. "Firsthand, secondhand, thirdhand," Mayweather says. Oh, please -- how is that attractive? "I guess growing up a 'boomer' has its advantages," Trip says, and they share a chuckle. Yeah, like knowing where to find the (zero) G-Spot. On a female ship. Delightful.
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