Seriously, this was a good episode. Direction, plot, movement, surprise endings -- BAM! It was all there. but this show is still not perfect; they still have a few kinks to work out. Like Scott's brow. Please understand, I loved him in Quantum Leap; I thought it was a great show with two great actors. I even still try to catch the reruns, so what exactly is he trying to pull in Enterprise? He's supposed to be this laid-back, loosen the collar, drink a beer, and watch water polo kind of guy -- why can't he show that to us? I just don't feel it. He acts like his forefathers all stood hundreds of feet tall in California.
Another thing about this episode that bothered me was the overdose of Continuity Balm they slathered on us. It was like they wanted to cram in as many references to past episodes as they could, just so they never had to do it ever again. Or perhaps they were trying to make the continuity SO grating that they could say, "See? You got what you asked for -- now isn't it annoying?"
Quantum whittles a log down and talks about the repairs the ship needs after last week's brouhaha with The Giant Hamster Balls That Go Boom. CONTINUITY! As he VOs, the Exposition Pod darts around the ship to examine the damage. Inside the pod, Quantum and Trip share some We've Got A New Lease On Life time. "It's incredible we're still in one piece," Quantum comments. "If that mine had hit another meter to the left..." Trip breathes. They commiserate over the extent of the dents, hull breaches, and the fact that they can't go very fast, which means it would take them ten years to reach the nearest Maaco. More bad news: the cable's out, so they have no email or long-distance service. The best they can swing is local phone calls. Or a technobabble equivalent for the twenty-second century. Quantum sighs a big one and says, "We've answered enough calls for help over the past year. It's time someone returned the favor." "P.S.: Whose distress calls did they answer where they didn't actually do more harm than good?" Mathra wonders from the kitchen. Quantum furrows The Brow Of Finally Admitting I'm Not So Independent As I Thought And Maybe Just Maybe Could Benefit From Getting Off My Furrowing High Horse And Ask An Alien For Help. Trip looks overly concerned for his captain's well-being: "Are y'serryous?" Instead of answering, Quantum sighs again and comms Hoshi, asking her to send out a general distress call about their situation. He instructs her not to go into too much detail. Hoshi catches on and signs off. Quantum barely meets Trip's solicitous eye and heaves his shoulders. Oh, my god, it's JUST a distress call -- it's not like someone died! Because that comes later.
I saw my dermatologist this week, and she diagnosed the pussing rash I have all over my body as Insipidae Themeas Songititis. They'll have an antidote just as soon as Russell Watson gets his throat torn out by dingos.
Reed bug-eyes, "You're killing me!" He's in Sick Bay, lying on a table, legs spread. Maybe he's giving birth. Phlox is grasping him by the soles of his feet. "Are they still cleaning the pee off of him?" Mathra calls out. Peeing in your pants -- it's the gift that keeps on giving. "Push, Lieutenant. Two more seconds," Phlox orders, holding a tricorder. He IS giving birth! Reed grunts a bit more. "And rest," Phlox says and releases Reed's feet. CONTINUITY! Reed, collapsing back on the table, moans, "It can't be ethical to cause a patient this much pain." Then don't ever get a woman pregnant, you wuss. "It's unethical to harm a patient -- I can cause as much pain as I like," Phlox says. Hee! I love Phlox so much -- I wish he had rounds at Brigham and Women's. Reed gives Phlox the stink-eye, and Phlox tells him to get an attitude adjustment, sing-songing that positive thinking is vital to the recovery process. Reed chafes under not being able to blow things up in space that aren't there, even if he had the firepower to do it. "Attitude, Lieutenant! The wound might heal faster if you'd allow me to apply a few more Regulan blood worms," Phlox suggests. "Oh, you're not putting any more of those things inside my leg -- you still haven't found the last one!" Reed exclaims. "He'll come out on his own...eventually," Phlox assures him. Yeah, but where? Reed and I shudder.
Center shot of Porthos lying dejectedly on the floor of Quantum's cabin. There's a squeak. Quantum and Porthos both look up. "Did you hear that?" Quantum asks. Thrilled at having SOME attention paid to him, Porthos trots over to his master. Oh, such a puppers, he is! Instead of playing with his adorable puppy, Quantum obsesses over the squeak in his floor. "Trip told me he fixed that squeak," Quantum gripes, as Porthos goes back to being bored on another patch of rubber floor. CONTINUITY! T'Pol comms that they are getting a response to their SOS. Without so much as a backward glance at Porthos, Quantum runs to the bridge. "It's a Tellarite freighter," T'Pol informs him as he enters. Quantum puts a steel railroad spike down his spine and stiffs their situation to the Tellarites, asking if they can arrange a rendezvous. The Tellarite transmission statics out, but it appears that the Tellarites are not going to be able to keep that assignation. "Can you repeat?" Quantum asks. More static; all we can make out is that they mention a repair station and seem to be transmitting coordinates. What the static glosses over is how many pounds of flesh it's going to cost the humans to fix their boo-boo. T'Pol confirms that they received coordinates, and Quantum asks what she knows of "these Tellarites." They've got pig faces and get murdered on the way to Babel. "They're not the most agreeable species," T'Pol responds, "but they're usually trustworthy." T'Pol tells him that the repair station is about three days away at warp two. In order to match Quantum's furrow of I Think I'll Make A Decision Here, The Brass Of A Sketchy Decision Is About To Be Made play, Quantum tells May-about-to-be-glue that it's worth a look.
Enterprise putters along and comes into view of a take-off on the pod racers from Phantom Menace. Quantum attempts hailing them several times, but isn't what you would call "successful" at it. T'Pol can't detect any bio-signs, and Hoshi thinks the pod racer could be abandoned. "We might be able to board it -- salvage some of the materials we need," Trip suggests. Quantum doesn't think there's room enough in the pod racer's docking berths for his brow and the ship. "What's it look like inside?" he asks his science officer, who tells him she reads a liquid helium atmosphere. "The temperature is two hundred and seventy degrees below zero," T'Pol finishes. Ah, springtime comes to Minnesota. There's a bright light as the crew gets a V'Ger scan. "A bio-molecular probe," T'Pol confirms. "Sir..." May-on-his-last-legs starts. Yeah, I'd save my breath too, if I were you. Quantum raises his furrow to the viewscreen, and we see some changes made to the pod racer. In a close-up, one of the docking bays acts like those contorting things you get at the science museum gift shop where it's all hinged and you can turn it inside-out and stuff -- weren't those cool, though? "It's reconfiggerin' t'fit the sah-ser sec-shin," Trip informs us. T'Pol chimes into say that the atmosphere is being replaced by a warmer oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere -- i.e. stuff we can breathe. Hoshi says they're still not getting any answer to their hails. "It appears an invitation has been extended," T'Pol hints. "They need to work a little on their hospitality," Quantum snaps. Just because they aren't up to your meet-and-greet standards?! I mean, what do you know anyway, Furrow Man? Where they're from, punching you in the face could be considered the friendliest of all greetings. Come on, Quantum, let's you and I get friendly. Quantum looks over at Trip for input. Good thing Malcolm's not on the bridge -- evidently, he hates it when the bridge crew is allowed to voice opinions. "I don' see that we have a lot of op-shins," Trip tells him. Quantum orders May-one-foot-in-the-grave to take them in. Enterprise docks.
Trip, T'Pol, and Quantum board the pod racer and take a look around. Everything's white and octagonal. The three proceed down a white octagonal hallway with caution. They seem to know which door to pick as they enter a room to the left of the white octagonal hallway. A suspended blue hologram of a mini-Enterprise hovers in the middle of the chamber. Trip examines the hologram to see if it's truly outrageous. "They've isolated every hull breach, every damaged system -- I'll be damned, we scratched the hull right there a year ago," Trip says, pointing. "I bumped it with the inspection pod, remember?" "I thought I told you to have that repainted," Quantum says pointedly. CONTINUITY! "Well, I wuz gettin' 'round to it," Trip hedges. Guess the pregnancy, talking to rock people, getting delirious with dehydration, and going on a bender with Reed in a sh'pod was taking up too much of his down-time. Quantum examines the consoles and comments that everything is in English. I'm surprised they're not given the option of Spanish or Portuguese, like at our ATMs in Boston. "English, English, English -- it's always about the English, isn't it?!" T'Pol yells. That is, inside my head she yells that. I have a lot of voices yelling inside my head -- makes it hard to walk down the street. Quantum pauses in front of a monitor: "The ship wasn't the only thing they probed." Okay, who had to turn their head and cough? The monitor shows an image of a body. "I think that's Malcolm," Quantum says, pointing, "that's where his left leg was injured." T'Pol opines, "This facility may have the technology to repair Mr. Reed, as well." But can they find that wandering Regulan blood worm?
A sexy computer voice tells them that the analysis of their ship is complete, and requests that they select a payment plan in order to start repairs. Quantum tries several times (he's a slow learner) to talk to the computer, but the computer just keeps repeating its request for them to cough up their gold-pressed latinum. "I don' thank there's anny-won back 'dere," Trip says. Remember those "Where's The Beef?" commercials? In one of them, one of the old dears says that exact same thing. But without the mint julep accent. T'Pol suggests the ultra-obvious when she says that the station could be automated. "Are you saying you can repair all our systems?" Quantum asks the computer. Buddy? They can't hear questions that aren't related to "fifty kopecks down and just twelve easy payments of twenty-nine-ninety-nine over two whole months." A convenient list of payment options pops up. "We can give them either three warp coils, five deuterium injectors, or two hundred litres of warp plasma," Quantum reads. Trip doesn't think they can spare anything other than the plasma. Quantum asks how long the repairs would take, and the computer voice tells him thirty-four-point-two Earth hours. Quantum looks at Trip, who says, "I'm tellin' you, the boys at Jupiter station would take three months." "It's a fair exchange," T'Pol agrees. The computer repeats its command that they fork it over if they want their ship back. Quantum takes for-EVER, looking back and forth at them before FINALLY turning back to the ATM and selecting "Warp Plasma: Two Hundred Liters." "Compensation will be due when the repairs are completed. Your vessel will then disengage immediately. All personnel are required to vacate areas that are undergoing reconstruction," the computer tells them. All the monitors in the chamber get busy with the graphics. T'Pol examines the repair schedule, and Quantum orders her to download it and make the rest of the crew aware of the Big Dig dates. Some giant arms grab at the saucer section. May-waiting-for-God nervously comms Quantum with this information. Quantum assures him that all is well and the Grim Reaper is not outside his door. Yet. The chamber doors slide open, and the computer tells them that the "recreational facility" is there for their enjoyment. The three cautiously walk out to find the Interstellar Wall Drug so they can buy some sterling silver belt buckles with inset turquoise hearts.
In the "recreational facility," Trip sniffs, "If this is their ideer of a 'recreation facility,' you might want to ask fer our plasma back." Shut up, Trip -- you're just annoyed that there's no sign of sex pebbles anywhere. The facility, like the rest of the pod racer, is a sterile white and steel. T'Pol scans a table-top with her tricorder and tells them that it's a "matter energy converter." Trip looks down at it and says, "It could be a transporter." Yeah, for Weeble Wobbles who fly around in Giant Hamster Balls That Go Boom. T'Pol stares at him. "Might be an awfully small one," Trip amends. "Then we know what it would be good for transporting, don't we, Trip?" Mathra guffaws, grading a problem set. "I believe it's a molecular synthesizer of some kind," T'Pol tells them, "similar to a protein resequencer but far more advanced. Water -- cold." A glass of water with an ice cube materializes. That's so cool! It's like those things -- oh, what are they called? -- those things that can replicate stuff like tea that's Earl Grey and hot. T'Pol picks up the glass and drinks, while Trip catches flies with his gaping maw. "That's smart, scientist, drink the clear liquid without test-stripping it," Mathra snaps, deducting points all over the place. T'Pol says she saw a "similar device" on a Tarkalean vessel. Did it make Tarkalean Tea for Dr. Bashir? "It was capable of replicating almost any inanimate object," T'Pol finishes. Including anvils.
Quantum sits in his office, watching the bot arms put an ACE bandage on his ship. T'Pol enters with an update to the repair schedule. Quantum looks at the report and slumps a bit, saying, "They even fixed the squeak in the floor." T'Pol looks at the floor. "I was starting to wonder if we had a gremlin under the deck-plating," Quantum comments. T'Pol stares at him. "A mythical creature. British pilots used to blame them for problems they couldn't explain," Quantum explains. "Perhaps I should scan for one," T'Pol suggests. But he just told you the squeak was gone...oh, I see, she's referring to Quantum being a problem that can't be explained. Go ahead with that. Quantum tells her it won't be necessary, and asks if Trip is happy with the repairs. "He says they're exceeding Starfleet specifications," T'Pol tells him. Quantum looks bugged by this, but merely says, "That's good to hear -- anything else?" T'Pol asks to be permitted to make an observation. "Go ahead," Quantum tells her. "You seem troubled," T'Pol says. "Ah, it's just the weight of the world," Mathra sighs. Sure enough, Quantum's now standing at his Weight Of The World Window. Quantum pushes off from the WOTWW and says, "Guess I need to do a better job of repressing my emotions." You have emotions? I thought you just had furrows. Quantum tells T'Pol that he thinks they're getting an awful lot of help for just two hundred litres of plasma. "Not every culture is based on the acquisition of wealth," T'Pol sniffs. "The station's builders could simply have been interested in helping others." Quantum wonders what happened to the station's builders. "They could have at least left a message. 'Thanks for stopping by,'" Quantum complains. And you think they owe this to you…why? T'Pol suggests that they prefer to be anonymous donors of assistance. "Don't you find that a little suspicious?" Quantum asks, back at his WOTWW. T'Pol is silent. Quantum goes on, "I know you don't put a lot of faith in your feelings but I've learned to trust mine. Something doesn't smell right." Ahh -- too easy.
Speaking of smells, Trip's chowing down on more grub at the Extra Large Exo-Comp's recreational facility with Reed. Around the rec room, we see May-getting-fitted-for-a-long-black-box laughing with Hoshi, and a bunch of other random crew members hanging out. Reed's telling Trip about the exo-comp that fixed his leg and says, "Honestly, I started to feel a little sorry for the doctor -- there wasn't anything for him to do but stand there and watch this thing work." Because attending to your leg is a rare privilege that should be denied to no one? Okay, well, lis might agree with you. Trip can understand how the doctor must've felt -- actually, I don't think you can, since the doctor seemed thrilled by the exo-comp -- because he stood and watched a technobabble be replaced in fifteen minutes: "It would have taken my crew a week. With this kind of technology Starfleet could build ships that maintain themselves -- they wouldn't need Chief Engineers." Reed snickers. "Or Tactical Officers," Trip finishes. Insert the exhaustive examples about computers being unable to make creative decisions the human brain can, as witnessed and commented upon in many TOS and TNG episodes, right here. Also, it's always good to cite "Good Computers Gone Bad," HAL, and also Daystrom's fiasco. Reed comments that a ship without a Tactical Officer is pointless. "You'd think that a computer that can do all this," Trip says, gesturing around, "would have to be pretty big." Reed nods his agreement. Trip goes on that Enterprise's computer is the best in the fleet, and it's three decks high. Reed agrees again. "So, where is it?" Trip asks, his eyes bugging. Reed has no idea what Trip's getting at, but he is enjoying his Ploughman's Lunch. Trip shows Reed his scans of the Extra Large Exo-Comp, and points out all the areas they can readily identify. Reed thinks the only place the computer could be is in the ATM-diagnostic room, "but it's barely half the size of this one." "A machine capable of billions of calculations every nanosecond and it can fit inside the proverbial breadbox," Trip bugs. So? Mathra's a machine capable of all that, and he can fit inside the breadbox as well. In fact, I frequently find him in there, doing his billions of calculations every nanosecond. Trip tells Reed that he'd love to get a look at the computer. "You could always ask," Reed-Sid namby-pambys. "I tried," Trip tells him, and quotes the computer's response: "'Your inquiry was not recognized.'" Reed snorts and says, "Well, I guess that's that." He goes back to his mushy peas. Trip stops him: "Not necessarily. This cooling duct runs all the way to the center of the station -- I saw an access port in one of the corridors." "This computer might not take kindly to people snooping around," Reed-Sid prisses. "I haven't seen any 'No Trespassing' signs," Trip Sawyer says. That's the motto of their crew, innit? Trip reminds Reed that they are explorers, and asks where his spirit of adventure is. "I left it in a Romulan minefield," Reed reminds him. Finally, Reed agrees to get his raft and meet Trip down by the river, but warns him that if the Widder Douglas lashes him for it, he'll larn Trip with his own hick'ry stick.
A short time later, Trip is on Reed's shoulders, opening the access panel. "If the Captain learns about this, we'll both be scrubbing plasma conduits for a month!" Reed grunts, trying to keep his balance. He gives Trip a final leg up, and gets a butt in his face for his trouble. Inside the duct, Trip reaches down and pulls Reed up with one arm.
Enterprise. May-pulling-the-plug walks around his quarters in nothing but a pair of biker shorts. Everyone on the forums made such an issue of May-did-you-ever-think-when-a-hearse-goes-by's physique, but I am not impressed by it, for two reasons. One, we saw it in "Two Days and Two Nights" when he had his rock-climbing accident, and two, what else do you think he's been doing when he's not needed on the set? As May-buh-bye pulls on a scanty tank top, Quantum comms him and requests his presence in Launch Bay One. "I thought that section was off-limits, sir," May-that-you-would-be-the--to-die questions. "Not anymore -- I could use your help, Ensign," "Quantum" says. May-the-worms-crawl-in-the-worms-crawl-out tells him he'll be right down.
Trip Finn and Malcolm Sawyer crawl through the ducts together. I actually think it should be Trip Sawyer and Malcolm Finn, because Tom was the one who coerced Huck into all his scrapes in Huck Finn, but Trip's got the Huckleberry accent. But enough English literature for the insane. Do they really think the facility isn't going to sense that it has something crawling around in its insides? It's like the Regulan blood worm in Reed. Malcolm Finn is wondering aloud if Trip Sawyer got his directions right when an alarm goes off. One end of the corridor is sealed off, and as they try to get away, both scoundrels disappear into thin air. They reappear -- still on their hands and knees -- on the floor of their own bridge. T'Pol leans over her console to look at them. "Evenin', Sub-Commander," Trip says. T'Pol cocks her head and raises an eyebrow. Heh! Nice scene. I'm thrilled Jolene has learned to act more with her face than with other body parts. Now, if we could only break Scott of his habit.
May-the-worms-play-pinochle-on-your-snout arrives in the launch bay and looks around, seeing no one. He sees a singed and sparking area on the bulkhead, and goes to check it out.
Quantum's Quarters. Trip and Reed stand at attention while Quantum dresses them down, asking if they realize how stupid their "little stunt" was. "You could have just as easily been transported out into space. You're senior officers, you're supposed to be setting an example for the rest of the crew," Quantum tells them, pacing. Trip admits that it was his idea to pay people to paint the fence while he went fishing. Quantum walks up into Trip's face and says, "I think Lieutenant Reed is old enough to make his own decisions." But he's not old enough to wear big-boy pants. "You've made it clear to me that you think discipline aboard Enterprise has gotten a little too lax -- I'm beginning to agree with you," Quantum tells Reed. Quantum tells them they're grounded in their rooms until he says otherwise, and dismisses them. The boys make to leave with their tails between their legs. "Hold on!" Quantum orders. "Did you notice anything interesting when you were in there?" he asks. "Depenns on whut y'meen by innerestin'," Trip says. Before they can get into it, T'Pol comms Quantum to say he's needed in Launch Bay One immediately.
Launch Bay One. Phlox scans a prone May-they-eat-your-eyes-they-eat-your-nose. He has lacerations on his face. Phlox pulls his medical tricorder back and reads it as Quantum comes around a corner. Spying May-they-eat-the-jelly-between-your-toes, Quantum runs to Phlox's side, exclaiming, "What happened?" "He's dead, Captain," Phlox tells him. Quantum furrows The Furrow Of Why Can't I Remember What This Crewman's Name Is as we go to commercial.
Dammit! I'm missing The Forsyte Saga remake with Ioan Gruffudd.
In an overhead short, and through the grating of a catwalk, we see May-your-liver-turns-a-sickly-green being taken out on a gurney. Phlox is telling Quantum that the burns on his skin are consistent with "an isolytic shock," but he can't be certain until he watches and guest-appears on Six Feet Under. He tells Quantum that he'll keep him apprised. Quantum is silent, but he adds a new facet to his furrow -- it's accompanied by a jaw clench. Scott, didn't I tell you to leave the facial acting to Jolene? She can carry it off, whereas you cannot. Quantum walks over to where Trip, T'Pol, and Reed are investigating things. Guess they're not grounded anymore. Trip tells Quantum that it looks as though May-and-pus-pours-out-like-whipping-cream was playing around with the EPS power grid when the relay overloaded. "Why the hell would he come down here during his off hours and start tampering with the power system?" Quantum blusters. Trip doesn't get it: "Travis would have checked with me before doing any maintenance." "Did you notify the crew that this section was off-limits?" Quantum accuses T'Pol. T'Pol says she did. "Well, apparently somebody didn't get the message!" Quantum roars. Not "somebody" -- it's that guy whose body they just took out. Weren't you paying attention? Quantum asks what time May-bought-the-farm went off duty, and T'Pol tells him eighteen hundred hours. "Malcolm and I saw him at the station about a half an hour later," Trip volunteers helpfully. "He was having dinner with Hoshi." Quantum whirls around from his incessant pacing. "Talk to her!" he orders dramatically. "See if he said anything about this and go over the comm logs -- I wanna know if he talked to anyone else." Reed suggests they check his quarters. First one there gets his stapler and scissors. "Post a security detail outside every section that's under repair," Quantum says, still not looking at them. "Aye, sir," Reed responds. Quantum leaves. You know, he was supposed to be acting all torn up inside, but I just didn't buy it. Maybe the reason I'm having a harder time than usual taking Bakula seriously as Captain of the almighty Enterprise is that I recently caught a rerun of Designing Women. He played a recurring role as Mary Jo's dick of an ex-husband. And with the pouffy eighties hair, the Huey Lewis-thin necktie, and the fact that he was a philandering gynecologist -- I'm sorry, I just can't stop giggling. The three look around at each other, obviously affected by the loss of what's-his-name, and get back to work.
Quantum walks into the Extra-Large Exo-Comp's ATM room and announces, "A member of my crew is dead. We don't know what happened." A monitor slides open and tells him that his inquiry was not recognized. Quantum draws himself up and says, "My...helmsman...was...killed....inLaunchBayOne." He undoes his collar and pulls it away from his neck. What is that all about? "We think it happened while that section was off-limits," Quantum says. The ATM reminds him that all personnel are supposed to vacate those areas during repairs. Quantum nods his head rapidly and says, "We're aware of that. You must have some...kind of record of what happened." Of course it does; the computer scanned the database and decided that it had seen this movie, and the black dude dies first. If they had Orlando Jones playing May-dead, none of this would have happened. The computer just repeats its comment about vacating repair areas. Quantum looks annoyed as he furrows The Furrow Of "Return Of The Archons." Seriously? Countdown to him Kirking at the computer until it starts to smoke begins...now! "I...need...totalktoaperson," Quantum contorts. "Push zero three times -- usually works for me," Mathra calls from the breadbox. Quantum tells the computer that he wants someone who can access the database and tell him what happened. You don't need a database, Quantum; I can tell you what happened. When the Extra-Large Exo-Comp scanned them, it found May-kaput to be an anomaly -- sort of like a cyst that just sits there quietly, not doing anything -- so they excised him. The computer keeps telling Quantum that his inquiry isn't recognized. From the inside of the computer, looking out, we can see Quantum yelling, "Who built this station? What species?" "Your inquiry was not recognized," the computer tells him mildly. "What species?!" Quantum demands, punching the computer screen. Okay, anger management classes for you, starting week. "Do you think he hurt his hand?" Mathra wonders. "Any damage to these facilities will be charged to your vessel," the computer tells him. And taken out of May-rigor-mortis's ass. Quantum pants.
Sick Bay. Phlox records the post-mortem aloud. "Age twenty-six Earth years -- far too young to be on this table," Phlox observes, as May-deceased slides out of the SCAT. Phlox records a few more medical comments that seem to indicate the cause of death was electrocution before Hoshi walks in. "This is not an ideal time," Phlox tells her. Hoshi twists her hands and says she wanted to say goodbye. "You may find this disturbing," Phlox warns her. "I've seen a body before," Hoshi says. "Fifteen of them on that alien ship." CONTINUITY! Phlox tells her it's different when it's someone she knows personally. Hoshi just looks at him through the grey gauze curtain Phlox has pulled around his area in Sick Bay. Phlox relents and pulls back the curtain.
Hoshi walks through and gasps a little, her eyes looking May-corpse up and down. "I was hoping it was another of his practical jokes," she says, putting her hand up to her nose. "Another"? When were there ever any? "Travis called me down to decon a few weeks ago. He said that he brought some kind of gelatinous life-form aboard. He said it might be sentient and that the Captain needed me to figure out how to communicate with it," Hoshi says. Phlox says, "Hm, I don't recall that." That's because the gelatinous life-form was actually Cheney, and there was no hope of communication. "There was no life-form -- it was only strawberry gelatin," Hoshi laugh-cries. They make May-body-meets-a-body-coming-through-the-rye more interesting in death than he ever was in life. Phlox smiles from the depths of his steel-grey autopsy smock. "I told him I was gonna get him back." Hoshi pauses to wipe her eyes. "I'm sorry." Phlox tells her she might be comforted to hear that he felt very little pain. "An isolytic shock instantly impairs the, uh..." Phlox is distracted by something on his e-pad. "The nervous...that's odd." Hoshi asks what's odd. "They're dead -- all of them," Phlox comments, and excuses himself.
Quantum steps into May-will-the-body-kiss-the-body cabin and asks Reed, "Anything?" Reed answers in the negative. "It doesn't look like Travis used the comm system last night. Crewman Hayes says she passed him on his way to the Launch Bay but they didn't speak. She said he seemed to be in quite a hurry." Quantum asks him what he has up on the computer screen. "It's a letter to his sister -- it was on the monitor when I came in," Reed tells him. Quantum sits down as Reed tells him that there isn't much in the letter to go on. "He mentions something about canceling breakfast with him," Reed says. "That was...last...week...I...had...topostponeit," Quantum admits. "Well, it clearly sent him over the edge, Quantum," Mathra comments. Quantum asks if there's been any progress in locating May-will-somebody-die's parents, and Reed shakes his head, saying that T'Pol is working on it but it could take some time. Just long enough to bring him back from the dead, right? Phlox comms Quantum, asking to see him right away.
Quantum lumbers into Sick Bay and asks, without looking at the body on the table, if Phlox found anything. "As a matter of fact, I did -- this isn't Ensign Mayweather," Phlox tells him. Quantum is floored. Phlox goes on that he's never seen a life-form duplicated in such detail, "from its epidermis down to its cellular proteins. This is remarkable work." It's easy to duplicate someone convincingly when he doesn't talk, do, or even show up onscreen very much. Quantum wants to know why Phlox doesn't think it's May-carrion. It all comes down to the fact that they were all inoculated recently after some ensign got Rigelian Fever when they visited Tessik Prime. And this is where I have to have a MAJOR rant. In "Requiem For Methuselah," Bones, Spock, and Kirk are on Planetoid Holberg 917G, looking for an antidote to the Rigelian Fever that swept over the ship. The fever was described as akin to the bubonic plague, and Bones finally got the antidote in the form in ryetalyn. But here, they're just trying to brush it off as some minor ailment they all got inoculated against because one crewman came down with it? They're really polishing off the Great Temporal Reset Button in the Sky, because I don't know how Starfleet records wouldn't have the inoculation on file for Bones to use one hundred years later. Phlox shows that Quantum still has genetically altered microbes from the vaccine in his bloodstream, but all the microbes in May-worm-food's bloodstream are dead. "Couldn't they have been killed by the isolytic shock?" Quantum asks for us. "These microbes thrive on isolytic energy," Phlox tells him. Of course they do. Phlox thinks that something or someone has carried the real May-pushing-up-daisies off to parts unknown and left this imposter in his place. "Apparently bulkheads aren't the only thing this station can replicate," Quantum says, turning his furrow on Hoshi, who really didn't do anything to deserve that kind of treatment. "Well, let's just all be glib about replication now that it's been introduced once," Mathra snaps, leaving to get us chocolate. Phlox thinks it's ironic that a machine can duplicate a human carcass in complete detail, yet can't manage a one-celled creature.
Bridge. Quantum arrives, and T'Pol tells him she's located May-ashes-to-ashes's ma and pa. "You better hold off -- their son may still be alive," Quantum says stiffly. God, get an acting coach, Bakula! Of course, without explaining anything, Quantum asks Reed how close he thinks he and Huck got to the computer core. "We were within twenty meters when we tripped them," Reed tells him. Quantum wants to know if he could find a way to bypass them. Reed thinks a moment. "I believe so," he says. T'Pol tells Quantum that their repairs will be completed in nineteen minutes. Because that's all the time we have left in the episode. "The station's expecting us to depart," T'Pol says. Like a jerk, Quantum ignores her and comms Trip to ask if he has their payment ready. From Engineering, Trip tells him that the canisters of plasma are ready to be deposited in their account. "Don't be in such a hurry," Quantum orders. Yes, slow down so that your Captain can continue his Sadistic Little Game Of Ambiguity.
A bot arm puts some finishing stitches in the hull and spreads on an antibiotic cream. Trip pushes a dolly of plasma into the ATM vestibule and announces what he's delivering. The computer tells him to place his compensation on the transport platform. "Hold on, hold on -- there's a couple of problems we need to discuss first," Trip tells the computer. "Naw, I'm not rill happy with the quality of sum uv yer werk. You list'nin' to me?" The computer repeats its request for putting compensation on the transport platform. Trip just continues to criticize the shoddy workmanship done on his ship. He tells the computer that they're not paying until they sort all this out.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Scooby gang sneaks into the ducts. Do they really think that a computer capable of multi-tasking so many billions of, uh, tasks is going to be distracted by the likes of Trip? Why, he ain't nuthin' but a li'l ol' shoo-fly. Quantum pulls T'Pol into the ducts, and they make Malcolm go first. Trip continues to yammer at the ATM. Finally he says, "On my world we have an expression." Oh! Oh! Is it "Fool me once, shame on...shame on yooou? Igitfooled, can't git fooled agin"? Did anyone see that clip of George W. totally screwing up that "expression" he says they have in Texas? Jon Stewart played it over and over again. So did we. We now have that Jon Stewart segment on tape. Oh my god, so hilarious, and that guy is such an idiot! "He's NOT my president!" Mathra yells out. Unfortunately, the expression Trip is talking about is the one about the customer always being right. "Mebbe y'shuld make that part of yer pro-gram. I wanna know how sumwun files a greevince 'round here," Trip giggles.
In the ducts, Reed points out where the alarm trigger is. In tandem, T'Pol and Quantum whip out their tricorders. Reed crawls on while the other two stay behind. The alarm is triggered, and Reed disappears. He reappears on the bridge of Enterprise. In the duct, Quantum and T'Pol furiously pound away at their calculations and calibrations. Jointly, they fire at something in the duct. The alarm continues. In the ATM room, the computers retract from Trip and close up. "Sounds like, uh, you've got more important things to deal with," he says, running out of the ATM vestibule as the doors close. We get an anvilicious close-up of the cannisters of plasma that are labeled, "WARP PLASMA EXTREME CAUTION." T'Pol and Quantum fiddle some more in the duct, trying to open the portal that Reed's alarm trigger closed off. T'Pol fiddles with a panel and then fires at the closure. It opens. Quantum crawls ahead and reaches the end of the duct. They find themselves in an antechamber of horrors and wrench the octagonal door open. T'Pol and Quantum step into a large cargo hold that has masses of bodies suspended from the ceiling. Total rip-off of Coma, but still pretty effective.
Oooh, pizza. No, wait, chocolate. Yeah, chocolate -- but oh, pizza!
Quantum and T'Pol thread their way through the Light As A Feather, Stiff As A Board bodies while the computer orders them to leave or their ship will be "compromised." Heh -- I stopped recapping long enough to watch portions of The Forsyte Saga, and it puts me in mind of the fact that, in those days, "compromised" meant a very different thing. T'Pol takes a reading and tells Quantum, "I'm detecting one human bio-sign." Quantum asks if the many bodies suspended around them are alive. T'Pol pauses by a Klingon to report, "Their vital organs seem to be functioning, but they've suffered severe neurological damage." As they crawl among more bodies, we see what could be a Vulcan or Romulan, and George Hamilton. So that's his secret. Finally, T'Pol signals Quantum and shows him May-doppelganger suspended above them. Quantum climbs a ladder, which happens to be placed right to May-dead-or-alive, and reaches his long-lost ensign. What the hell does a computerized station need with a ladder? Quantum yanks some tubes out of May-resurrected's sleeves, and they spurt blood everywhere. Doesn't he need some of that? Outside, the bot arms grab Enterprise. The better to "compromise" her, I would guess.
Bridge. Reed alerts Trip to their situation, although with the ship bucking around as much as it did, I think he could have figured that out for himself. Trip orders the plating polarized, but Reed reports no effect. "Stand-by weapons," Trip orders. The lights fail, and Reed announces that the weapons are being taken off-line. "The station's tapped into the ship's umbilical ports," Hoshi calls out. "It's overriding our command functions." Trip tells her to lock out the computer, but it doesn't work.
On the floor of Coma Room, May-jesus-christ-superstar moans and says, "Sir?" Quantum tells him he's going to be okay; they're taking him home. T'Pol finds the way out and runs back to assist Quantum with his bundle of ensign. Together, they fire at the wall and blast their way to freedom. They run through the smoky bot hallways and reach the airlock with Enterprise. Phlox and a burly security detail are waiting to take May-better-off-dead to Sick Bay. Quantum dashes to the Bridge with T'Pol close on his heels. Trip reports that the station's "got [them] by the thrusters." Ugh. Quantum ascertains that pretty much all systems are down and that life-support is failing. "Malcolm?" Quantum says, "I think it's time we deliver our payment." Reed pushes a button on his pocket remote, and a blue light on the "plasma canisters" blinks in response. They blow up. Reed reports that they did some heavy damage to the station: "Power levels are dropping, but the plasma hasn't ignited the O-2 conduits yet, sir." "It needs to reach three thousand degrees, Malcolm, be patient," Quantum orders him. Tense moments on the Bridge as everyone looks at Quantum, waiting. Finally, there's a rumble. "I'm reading secondary explosions throughout the station," Reed grins. Guess all those flying trapeze bodies are definitely dead now. An outside shot shows all kinds of explosions on the Extra-Large Exo-Comp. T'Pol reports that the command functions are coming back online, and Trip reports they have impulse and thruster engine capability. "One of those arms is still locked onto the hull," Reed warns. A few explosions pop up on the Bridge. "If we don't disengage soon, we'll be incinerated," T'Pol points out. Quantum orders full thrusters. "It's no good," Trip announces, "and if I fired up the impulse engines we'd probably tear off half the saucer section." Quantum asks Reed if he can launch a torpedo. "At this range, sir, I wouldn't recommend it," Reed answers. "I agree, but I don't think we have much choice," Quantum says. Outside, Enterprise launches a torpedo at the remaining restraining bot arm. The torpedo hits its mark, but doesn't do enough damage. Quantum orders up another one, and this one finally severs the bot arm. Enterprise flies free, and the station explodes behind it.
Sick Bay. May-mending lies on a table. "You look pretty good for a dead guy," Quantum announces as he walks in with T'Pol. May-invalid smiles weakly and tells his Captain he's feeling much better, thank you. Especially now that he has some lines. "The Doctor told me what happened -- I'm not sure I understand," May-out-patient breathes. Quantum tells him they're still trying to figure it out. "I may be able to shed some light on the subject," Phlox says, and holds up a piece of plastic that looks suspiciously like a Borg implant. "It seems to be some kind of interface, designed to convert neural impulses into binary code. Essentially, the station was using your brain to enhance its processing power," Phlox explains. "Why would it do that?" May-check-out-time wonders. "Because yours has never been used before!" Mathra chortles. "The cerebral cortex is the most sophisticated computer known to exist," T'Pol tells him.
May-occupational-therapy wonders about all the other bodies they just roasted like birds on a spit. "According to T'Pol's scans, most of them had been there for years -- the damage to their brains was irreversible," Phlox tells everyone. Except for that one alien who just got abducted a few days ago, but we won't mention that, will we? "Fortunately, you were removed before any permanent injury occurred," Phlox assures him. Yes, he's no more brain-wilted than he was last season. Quantum wants to know when he can get his helmsman back. Phlox wants to observe him for another twenty-four hours, if it's okay with Mr. Captain Pants. Quantum nods and leans over May-cured to say, "Captain's Mess, Friday morning, oh-eight-hundred. Don't be late." May-on-his-way-back-to-obscurity grins, "Sounds good, sir." Well, isn't that special.
Somewhere in space, the wreckage of the bot station floats. Hollow rumbles of metal banging on metal resound. Its bot arms work to put itself back together again. Creeptastic! Wow. Best ending this show has EVER seen.
week: I ripped my eyes out before I would let them see those previews a second time. All I know is that Quantum says "breast" instead of "best" when talking to T'Pol, and Phlox mentions sexual tension.