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Against all my warnings, Quantum brings Porthos down to an alien planet and the poor pup picks up a pathogen that pesters his pituitary. After twelve seconds too much thought for my taste, Quantum finally decides to camp out in Sick Bay in order to be closer to his pitiable pooch and gets to know the earthier side of his alien doctor-cum-vet. All I'm saying is, he feeds his toenails to his pets. Oh, and big surprise, but Quantum managed to offend the aliens who were supposed to give Trip a new fuel injector so now they don't feel like it anymore. Quantum offers to pee on them to make it all better. And you don't know how much I wish I were kidding about that last one, but I'm really not. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
This episode took all the complaints I've ever had about Quantum's pride, his ego, and his utter lack of respect for other cultural laws, and rolled it into an hour-long display of petulance the likes of which I have not seen since : The Brenda Years. Do you want to know how many times I use the word "petulant" to describe Quantum's behavior in these fourteen pages? Seven times -- there really is no other word for the way he comes across in this episode. Unlike some out there, who thought this was a fun, laid-back episode about normal, non-combative life aboard the ship, I thought it was the worst episode of the season. It was a puerile romp through a night in the life of a particularly whiny captain, who blames his behavior on his so-called concern for his dog. However, as I point out multiple times in this recap, that concern is not believable in the least -- not in the writing, not in the acting, and certainly not in the Furrowing.
Quantum is a peevish ass throughout this entire episode, laying blame everywhere but where it is most warranted, and then gets himself off the guilt hook by "learning" how to say he's sorry. In my opinion, he doesn't learn a damn thing. His act of atonement to the Kreetassans is only brought about by a thinly veiled stab at his pride from T'Pol via Phlox, not because he actually believes he owes the Kreetassans recompense for the offensive actions for which he never fully acknowledges responsibility. I don't know if Bakula, the writers, or the director knows that they handed us an hour-long ode to Quantum at his most unlikable and failed to make up for it in the conclusion. The only redeeming aspect of "A Night In Sick Bay" was the Phlox exposure, but even that wasn't enough to temper Quantum acting as though he had just been weaned off a pickle.
If you couldn't already tell from my preamble, I am so not in the mood for this. My sinuses are so stuffed with snot that Mathra's beginning to think he's sleeping to Mucus of Borg, and no amount of anything peddled over the counter in the English-speaking world is helping in the least. I've resorted to spending long hours in the bathroom with the shower running as a makeshift steam room and sounding off disgusting "hwargh!" noises to keep my throat from tickling. The only problem with that is that all the noise and the moisture is now causing the non-waterproof paint to peel. To top it all off, I think Hunca Munca has gone missing and might only be found if we decide to excavate the mountains of used snot rags that surround me on the recapping futon. Needless to say, my patience is fruit-roll-up thin, and it didn't take much for Quantum to tear it in half. To shred it completely took everything Quantum said, did, looked, and furrowed.
Decon chamber. Ah, Blue Lights Of Totally Gratuitous Nekkidity, how I have missed you and your inappropriate ways. NOT! Let's see, with Hoshi lubing up T'Pol, we've got your standard girl-on-girl action. , T'Pol's tending to Quantum's bare back, so there's the hetero and cross-species fetishists covered. Finally, Quantum's leaning over to take care of Porthos. Ew! What is with the whole sexual subtext there? Some pretty sick minds these writers have. The screen flashes up "8:47 pm." Uh, aren't they on military time? Or does Quantum just like to say "oh eight hundred" because he thinks it sounds cool? Quantum blathers about Starfleet not sending them out there to make fools of themselves -- a sentiment I take issue with, because I think that's exactly what Starfleet's intent was, and something that they've been very successful with thus far -- and asks how long they groveled in orbit: "Six days?" "Five, sir, and it wasn't exactly groveling," Hoshi tells him. "Apologizing, asking for forgiveness, just because we ate lunch in front of them on our own ship, months ago -- I call that groveling," Quantum snaps. Well, you've obviously never had to deal with hyper-sensitive siblings who are convinced you did something to mortally wound their feelings and refuse to allow family peace until you do something about it. "They were offended," Hoshi reminds him, while spreading Exposition Gel on T'Pol's shoulders. "The Kreetassans manufacture plasma injectors. We need one," T'Pol reminds her captain. "So we spend six days groveling --" Quantum whines. "Five days," Hoshi corrects him again. "And when they finally agree to talk to us, we go down and what do they do? They keep us waiting for twelve hours and then send us packing. No explanation, no plasma injector, just 'Leave, go back to your ship,'" Quantum bellows. "We obviously offended them again," T'Pol comments. "Maybe my hair's parted on the wrong side," Quantum snarks. Maybe they didn't like the tone of your furrows. Quantum moves Porthos so that he can sit on the bench and complain that he's had it with the Kreetassans. Phlox beeps in to tell them that all of them, except for Porthos, are free to go. Quantum asks what the deal is, and Phlox tells him that the pup picked up a pathogen on the planet and the gels of decon didn't clear him. God, the man is a colossal idiot to bring a dog down to an alien planet. How many times does he have to prove just how much he does not deserve to be Porthos's human? Quantum asks what Phlox is going to do. "I'm not sure yet, I'll let you know as soon as I run some tests." T'Pol and Hoshi walk out. Hoshi turns back to say, "Feel better Porthos." We love Hoshi. Quantum tells the bedraggled Porthos, "Doc'll have you good as new before you know it. Might even break the no-cheese rule tonight." Because making your dog dehydrated from diarrhea is the appropriate action when he's picked up a pathogen. As Quantum puts Porthos down and walks out, Porthos yips pathetically. Aw, baby! Because of this show, we've convinced our land-owning friends to add a beagle to their two-cat household. "Sorry fella, you gotta stay," his insensitive owner tells him, and walks out without another look back. The Blue Lights Of Totally Gratuitous Nekkidity come back on as Porthos sits down, alone and confused. Hello, MSPCA? Yeah, I need your help in abducting a dog from a space.
The one good thing about this cold is that it reduced the theme song to little more than a high fuzzy whine.
Engineering. It's 9:09 PM. Trip tells Quantum that he really needs to get on with the ass-kissing of the Kreetassans. I'm sure Reed has some lip shine suited to the occasion that he can borrow. Quantum tries to argue that the ship can run on the four injectors it has. "Yeah, but it can't run on three," Trip tells him. "You know what happens at warp speed when you've only got three plasma injectors online." Quantum wants to know what the odds are of them losing one before he can find another race of aliens to offend. "I'm not comferble with four, Cap'n. We need five. What the hell happen'd down thar, ennyway?" Quantum tells him that T'Pol thinks they insulted them again. "How?" Trip asks. "You dinnit eat cabbage before you left." First pewp boots, then Malcolm "Pee-Pee Pants" Reed, and now a fart joke? The collective mental age of this crew has been determined to be no more than six. Quantum insists that he was the "perfect gentleman," then raves that the Kreetassans are impossible and they will have to find a plasma injector elsewhere. Trip argues that the plasma injector has to come from the Finicky Kreetassans for all kinds of technobabble reasons. "Yer a trained diplomat -- take the high road -- there's gotta be sum way you kin kiss and make up," Trip says. Yes, and Reed has the make-up. But hold on a second, Quantum is a "trained diplomat," and he still acts like an ass in almost every situation? I had believed that his behavior from Episode One, Season One to the present stemmed from having no more diplomatic schooling than a backward trilobite wallowing in primeval slime, but now I see that it's simply congenital fatheadedness that causes him to act like a certain malapropistic president from Texas. "I'll have T'Pol see if she can find out what we did," Quantum says grudgingly. You mean he didn't already have her working on it? I didn't know it was even possible to have a negative IQ. He tells Trip he's not promising anything.
Sick Bay. Quantum strides in, saying he went to decon, but Phlox wasn't there and he wants to know if everything is all right. He stops short when he sees Porthos in an incubator. Phlox tells him that he can pet the adorable dog, but he has to use the isolation gloves. Annoyingly, Quantum doesn't give his dog some reassuring strokes right away, instead demanding to know if Phlox ran tests. "His autoimmune system is collapsing," Phlox informs the owner, who still isn't petting his dog through the incubator. "I've isolated the pathogen, broken down its protein sequence -- I can't explain it, Captain. It shouldn't be affecting him like this, but it is." Quantum looks at Porthos, who just looks pathetic, and asks what Phlox plans to do. As Quantum starts to circle the incubator -- still without offering any consoling pats to the pet who is suffering at the hands of his owner's congenital stupidity -- he asks Phlox what he intends to do. Phlox intends to run more tests; he's sure he'll "come up with something. "How sure?" Quantum asks, crouching down on the side of the incubator that has no isolation gloves with which to pet his dog. "Could this be life-threatening?" Phlox tells him it's too early to tell anything. "Didn't we send his genome to the Kreetassans along with ours?" Quantum stiffs, looking for someone -- someone who is not Captain of the Enterprise -- to blame for this situation. Phlox said he transmitted the genomes himself. "So, shouldn't they have noticed that there's a pathogen in their atmosphere that his immune system can't handle?" Quantum demands. "They should have," Phlox confirms, "assuming they took the time to check."
Quantum furrows The Furrow Of Looking For A Reason To Kill Aliens Because I Don't Want To Own Up To My Part In All This and starts pacing the room (do I even have to say that he walks like both his legs have fallen asleep, along with most of his body?) and tells Phlox that he seems to have offended the Kreetassans twice: "Once for eating in front of them, the second time, I don't even know what for. But if their carelessness has hurt Porthos, or, God forbid, ends up killing him...they're going to find out what being offended is all about." Do you want to know why I didn't buy one letter of that speech? BECAUSE HE STILL HASN'T TOUCHED HIS DOG WHO IS ENCLOSED IN AN INCUBATOR! God. Phlox says, "Porthos has no intention of giving up. And neither do I." Okay, this is officially The Hoshi & Phlox Show -- get rid of the rest of these people, or at least relegate them to May-bump status. Quantum manages a half-smile under the weight of his brow and FINALLY consents to address his dog. "You hear that, boy, hmm?" Quantum sticks one of his hands in the incubator and pats Porthos, who puts one of his paws on top of the glove. And now I'm a puddle of goo. I get that way every time one of my cats sticks out a paw and rests it on my leg or hand. Quantum tells Porthos they're all pulling for him. Took you bloody long enough. Ass.
Bridge. Quantum asks T'Pol if she reached the Kreetassans, which she did, but she thinks they need to discuss the matter in his Ready Room. Quantum stalks off as Hoshi and T'Pol exchange looks. In the Captain's Ready Room, T'Pol asks Quantum if he recalls the trees outside the Hall of Diplomacy. Quantum doesn't know what she's talking about, and he's quite rude about it. "They're Alvera trees, over three hundred years old --" "That's fascinating," Quantum practically yells. "Did you apologize for whatever we did wrong? Are we going to get our plasma injector?" "The Kreetassans consider the Alvera trees cultural treasures. Apparently, Porthos urinated on one of them," T'Pol tells him. Quantum whips around: "And that's what they're insulted about?" No, they're insulted that Porthos didn't save himself for their legs -- what do you think, Numb Lobes? T'Pol states that their annoyance is understandable. "Well, maybe if they'd bothered to read the genetic profile we sent, they'd have told us to leave the dog on the ship and then he wouldn't have had the opportunity to pee on one of their precious trees!" Quantum snaps, spitting his Ps all over the place. Wiping off her face, T'Pol tells Quantum that she conveyed his sincerest apologies to the Kreetassans, who are now discussing contrition acts. Quantum wants to know where the hell T'Pol gets off doing her job by conveying his apologies: "They're the ones who should be sorry!" T'Pol doesn't think she needs to remind him of their desire for a plasma injector, but she does it anyway. "There are some things more important than plasma injectors," Quantum spits. "Are you referring to your pride?" T'Pol wonders. "I'll tell you one thing, Sub-Commander, if anything happens to Porthos, I'll be the one watering their Alvera trees," Quantum says. Yet another reason why I don't think he's a qualified pet owner -- I'd go a helluva lot further than some juvenile act performed by college boys every Saturday night on campuses all over the U.S. if someone hurt my one whisker on my cats' faces.
Quantum's Quarters. As Porthos suffers alone in Sick Bay, Quantum watches water polo and angrily hurls his water polo ball against the wall. The time is ten-thirty-two in the evening, and I'm still annoyed that they aren't using military time. Finally, Quantum whips his blanket off the bed, gives Porthos's empty cushion a furrow, and leaves.
Bearing pillows and a blanket, Quantum enters Sick Bay. "If you were a married man, I'd be wondering if your wife had thrown you out," Phlox comments. If he were a married man, his wife would have thrown him out long before this, for the excessive furrowing alone. Crouching to the incubator, Quantum tells the doctor that he thought Porthos would be cheered by his proximity, "that is, if it's all right with you." Phlox tells him he doesn't think Porthos will even know he's there. "Well, then, maybe it will cheer me up," Quantum admits. Phlox tells him to take his pick of the examining beds. Quantum wanders over to a bed and asks how Porthos is doing. "My sub-mammalian database contains no pertinent files on bugles but there's sufficient information on similar Chordata," Phlox says. Quantum stares at him and says, "Beagles." "Yes," Phlox smiles. Quantum decides to cross-examine his doctor on his suitability to treat a dog, who is only sick because Quantum left his medulla oblongata on Earth. "Are there any dogs on your home-world?" Quantum asks. "The Denobulan lemur is highly sought-after. It's not exactly a dog, but you could say it's dog-like. It has a tail, fur...most have one head," Phlox tells him. "Did your medical training include --" Quantum begins, but Phlox interrupts him with, "Captain, please. You needn't be concerned -- I hold six degrees in interspecies veterinary medicine." Quantum says he thought Phlox was just a "people doctor." Phlox shrugs, "I've also earned degrees in dentistry, hematology, botanical pharmacology --" Quantum throws up his hands and says he's impressed, and once again asks how Porthos is doing. Phlox tells him he thinks he's eliminated the pathogen, but he still has to see if his treatment is going to be effective in stabilizing Porthos's auto-immune system before..."Before what?" Quantum prompts, but Phlox says he'll have more data in a few hours. "Before what, Doctor?" Quantum presses. "There are many harmless strains of bacteria that can become lethal when the immune system is compromised," Phlox explains, "but it is too early to be thinking about that." Phlox suggests that they both try to get some sleep; if Porthos's vital signs change at all, a very loud alarm will wake them up. Phlox tells Quantum goodnight.
Quantum crouches down to the incubator. "I would've brought you some cheese, but Dr. Phlox wouldn't have let me give you any," he tells the unresponsive CGI'd Porthos. Quantum walks over to his bed for the night and pulls the curtain around him. And STILL ANOTHER reason I don't believe he's selling the concerned pet owner shtick -- even if Porthos seems to be out of it now, wouldn't Quantum still want to be in sight in case the dog wakes up? If it were me, I'd certainly want to be able to see my pet at all times. Quantum settles down to sleep, but his descent into the arms of Morpheus is disturbed by an intermittent buzzing noise. He gets up and sees Phlox's shadow behind a curtain. We see Phlox using a electric knife-type thing to shave off his yellow-striped-with-black toenails into a petri dish. "Doctor, are you all right?" Quantum calls through the curtain. "I'm sorry, Captain, did I wake you?" Phlox sings out. "Just trimming my toenails -- they grow quite rapidly. I have to keep them groomed at least once a week." Quantum grimaces at this TMI: "Just wanted to be sure you're okay." Phlox thanks him for his concern and bids him goodnight again before going back to trimming his very thick toenails, which make fairly audible clinks as they fall into the petri dish. Quantum listens a bit longer and goes back to bed, patting the incubator on his way.
Coming from behind his curtain, Phlox dumps his petri dish of toenails into a cage, which rattles and munches with delight. Quantum's repose is once again shaken when he hears a strange noise. It's a sucking-slurping sound and no, that's not the sound of the episode. Well, it is, but it's also Phlox doing something strange to his extra-long tongue. He seems to be using a curved metal object to scrape his saliva into a receptacle. Wonder which pet gets that for a treat. This time, Quantum doesn't bother to ask what he's doing. Quantum tosses and turns restlessly. Time must have passed, because all goes dark. Suddenly, it sounds like the bird house at the zoo. Quantum jerks awake, knocks his pillow off the table, and scrambles out of bed. Phlox apologizes for waking him again. "What the hell is going on?" Quantum demands. "Feeding time," Phlox tells him, and opens a cage to shake a can of food in. Quantum asks how long he slept. "Nearly an hour," Phlox informs him. "Does this go on every night?" Quantum asks. "Only when I'm here -- they're very demanding when they know I'm in Sick Bay," Phlox tells him. Quantum bends down to the incubator. "Porthos?" he calls. Phlox tells him he still needs more time, and Quantum asks if he's comfortable. "He's fast asleep," Phlox assures him. "I'm glad to see someone is," Quantum rasps, and walks toward the door. "I'll check back in a couple of hours," he tells Phlox. Phlox smiles at his retreating back and continues to feed his pets.
By the looks of an overly complicated contraption that resembles Da Vinci's spheres put to Gold's Gym use, I'd say Quantum just walked into the ship's gym. It's twelve-oh-nine in the morning, and T'Pol is already putting herself through her paces on a treadmill. Quantum's not thrilled to see her. T'Pol pretends she doesn't see him as he strips down to shorts in the corner. What I am completely fascinated by is the complete lack of movement in T'Pol's dinners region. She's not running a slow mile, and she's bouncing pretty high on the instep, yet her dinners, they DO NOT MOVE! That's some bionic jog bra she's strapped herself into. Quantum gets on another treadmill, looks at T'Pol a few times, and starts running. "How's your dog?" T'Pol asks. "Nice of you to ask," Quantum snaps. "We'll know in a couple of hours." T'Pol pushes some buttons on her treadmill. There's a lot of high-powered noise that makes it sounds like she's increased her speed, but Jolene doesn't really look like she's running any faster. Quantum gives her a sharp look and increases the speed on his treadmill as well. Because everything's a competition with him. "Have you heard from your friends on the surface?" Quantum barbs. "Not yet," T'Pol tells him.
Something interesting I noticed in this scene: Quantum's running form is a mess -- he moves his arms and shoulders way too much and twists his torso unnecessarily, while T'Pol's form is steady, controlled, and clean. When I ran track, my coach told us that any unnecessary movement would just tire us out faster and prevent us from building up stamina. He told us imagine we were carrying eggs in the hollowed-out space made when we lightly touched our index fingers to our thumbs -- this image kept us from pumping our arms too much. Quantum's running form is much like his command style: careless, tiresome, heedless, and just plain wrong. T'Pol's form shows her to be calculating, careful, structured, and correct. I wonder if that was the director's intent -- if so, I applaud the subtlety. If not, well, it should have been.
Quantum says, "I guess they haven't finished compiling their list of punishments." T'Pol corrects him that it's not punishment they're after, just an appropriate apology. Quantum flings his arms out to the side: "I'm sorry!" T'Pol glances over at him: "For what?" Quantum tells her he's just practicing, and grins mirthlessly at her. T'Pol ramps up her speed some more, and Quantum furrows The Furrow Of My Manhood's At Stake Here So I Better Make Sure I Can Run As Fast As The Fit Vulcan. Once again, he matches her speed. T'Pol offers the opinion that Capt. Iron-Deficient Man shouldn't have brought Porthos down to the planet in the first place, since they were already on thin diplomatic ice with the Kreetassans. "They knew we were bringing him -- we even sent his genetic specs," Quantum flails. That's not T'Pol's point, Capt. Super-Ego. "They could have asked us to leave him behind -- they didn't!" Quantum continues. "Porthos has a right to a little fresh air." Porthos has a right to an owner who doesn't let his narrow-minded, culturally stunted, over-developed sense of his own self-importance get in the way of plain common sense. T'Pol tells him that he's once again refusing to acknowledge the consequences of his actions. "What's that supposed to mean?" Quantum pants. "You obviously place more importance on the quality if the air your pet breathes than on the quality of the plasma that drives your ship," T'Pol explains, and ramps up her speed again. I was with her until that statement. I think her comment on Quantum's refusal to lie in his bed now that he's messed it up is spot-on. He made the choice to bring the dog down to an alien planet, which not only offended the aliens but is also the cause of his dog's present malady. He needs to suck it up and acknowledge his part in it, and stop blaming the Kreetassans for not telling him their atmosphere was inhospitable to Porthos. They have scanners on Enterprise, and they've used those scanners to analyze the atmosphere on other planets, ships, and truck stops from hell. Why didn't they do it this time? Why leave it all up to the Kreetassans, of whom they know very little and in whom they consequently shouldn't trust that much? As for her comparison of fresh air for Porthos vs. plasma injectors -- I think she's paralleling the wrong things. It's his pride that he's placing above the quality of plasma injectors, not Porthos's right to fresh air.
Quantum asks rhetorically if it isn't logical that he could care about both his ship and his dog. T'Pol's not questioning his pluralities; she's questioning his priorities. Quantum ramps up his speed again and gags that he was starting to think she understood something about human emotions, but he guesses he was wrong about that. "Not when it pertains to primitive quadrupeds, who haven't developed the ability to speak or to use a toilet," T'Pol says, and gets off her treadmill. "Whattsa matter?" Quantum slobbers. T'Pol looks him up and down with distaste: "I obviously can't keep up with you." Heh. T'Pol turns to answer a comm from Hoshi as Quantum decreases his speed to a snail's pace and falls all over the console. "We've just received a transmission from the Kreetassans -- it's their reconciliation demands," Hoshi grins. "The Captain's not going to believe this." "You'd be surprised, Hoshi!" Quantum calls back. Hoshi's grin vanishes as she stumbles out that she didn't realize his big giant head was within earshot. Quantum tells her it's okay and they're on their way.
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 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.
Hmm. How many plasma injectors are we talking about here? Five. Okay, now, excluding Quantum, how many members of the senior bridge crew are there? Five. Now, reread his rant about it being nice to have "all five plasma injectors working," but think of "plasma injectors" as the senior bridge crew. It would be nice if they all agreed with Quantum's actions, but it is not essential. He "can do fine" with four, and the fifth one (T'Pol) "just started to act up." Meaning that she's "behaved" herself and supported Quantum pretty well this whole season, but now they are having a difference of opinion. Am I reading too much into it? I don't think so, since it all bears out so prettily in his speeches. Think about it. It's not that subtle of a metaphor and let's face it, clumsy is what Bermaga do best.
But back to Phlox's couch. "Have you considered that your anger may encompass more than just Porthos and the Kreetassans?" he asks. Quantum's all "huh?" "How long has it been since you were intimate with a woman?" Phlox calmly inquires. "WHAT?" Quantum bellows. Shh, calm down -- with a man, then. Phlox tries to repeat his question, but Quantum shouts that he heard him. "I suppose you're going to tell me you have a degree in psychiatry too?" Quantum furrows The Furrow Of Exposed Lack Of A Sex Life. "Absolutely," Phlox shrugs. Quantum tells him there is no way Phlox is leading him down that Freudian path, and orders him to "get" that Porthos is the only patient he's treating. Quantum neander-DAHLS to his cot and orders Phlox to let him know if there's any change.
Bridge. A Kreetassan demands Hoshi to tell him why they haven't adjusted their time to that of their capital city. "I apologize, we weren't aware it was required," Hoshi tells him. "It isn't a requirement, it is simply a courtesy -- something your species doesn't seem to understand," President J.F. Kreetassan snaps. Hoshi assures him that she will explain it to the captain immediately. President J.F. Kreetassan tells her that she might also "explain" to her captain that it's been three hours since they told him he'd have to do the Dance of the Seven Veils to make up for Porthos's potty profanation. "If he has the slightest hope of acquiring any technology from us, he'd be wise to pay us the courtesy of responding!" President J.F. Kreetassan snaps. Hoshi starts to tell him that she understands and will let Captain Petulance know, but President J.F. Kreetassan hangs up on her.
Quantum is awakened by a chittering -- it sounds a lot like the noise Hunca Munca and Poppadum make when there are birds outside or an invisible bug on the wall -- and alienspeake in such a sound of fury, you just know it's all cuss words. Quantum gets up and whips his curtain aside, only to be confronted by a Pyrithian bat flying straight at him and Phlox brandishing a net and yelling, "Keep your head down!" Belatedly, Quantum ducks, and the bat flaps around. Phlox complains that no matter what he does to secure her cage, she always manages to get out. Phlox continues to leap after the chittering Pyro as Quantum furrows The Furrow Of Doesn't Phlox Realize That A Man As Important As I Am Needs His Sleep So I Can Be In Top Alien-Offending Form.
Does Forest Whitaker have a lazy eye?
Sick Bay. As Quantum crouches with the net, Phlox slinks around with an origami pterodactyl ("Look -- it's a pterodactyl! SQUAWK! SQUAWK!" Anyone else remember those Little Caesar's commercials? "Sistine Chapel on the head of a pin!"), which I guess is intended either to scare Pyro into Quantum's net or to serve as some sort of romantic lure for it. The bluish-white Pyro squeaks and crawls across Phlox's shelves as Phlox sneaks up on her. Quantum climbs the shelving, net poised. Phlox starts flapping the wings of his origami pterodactyl and makes a low gurgling wail deep in his throat. Sounds a bit like the sound I made the fifth time I sat through this episode. Pyro takes off and attacks the noisy piece of origami, which succeeds in knocking Phlox completely off balance, and he crashes to the floor. Quantum is equally ineffectual in catching the errant Pyro. He pokes the net in the bat's direction a few times, but really is worse than useless -- especially since he knocks shelves clean of vital-to-Porthos's-life compounds and acts more scared than predatory. A turned-over can of something pink and gooey -- a three-pound tin of Reed's lip gloss, perhaps? -- drips on Phlox. Finally, Quantum jumps down to the still prone doctor/vet and accuses, "I thought you said your bat was supposed to be terrified of that thing!" I think the bat's more scared of your furrow than of origami. Phlox groans to his feet: "It should have been -- Pyrithian Moon Hawks eat these bats." Phlox muses over his origami: "Oh, I know I got the silhouette right. And I mastered the call...years ago." Phlox tries a few more guttural coos and groans again. "That stuff isn't poisonous, is it?" Quantum asks, indicating the ooze covering Phlox's front. Phlox slides his hand through the stuff and sucks it off: "Nah, I'll be fine." Hee -- I love blasé alien doctors. Phlox wrenches the origami off the end of his net and tosses it away as Quantum asks what they do . "We have to find her before we can catch her," Phlox tells him. "She'll stay up high." They look around. How much was I praying that Pyro would guano in Quantum's hair, and that it would drip into his furrow? Yeah, me and just about everyone on the forums.
Phlox attempts to revisit the whole Quantum Loves T'Pol tree carving. Quantum snaps that it's two-thirty in the morning and he's crawling up walls looking for an escaped bat, so T'Pol's curves -- er, edges -- aren't foremost in his mind. "Sexual tension, Captain," Phlox tells him. "There's no doubt in my mind." Quantum thinks he sees Pyro by the air duct, but Phlox tells him it's the filter bracket. "For a few months I've noticed increasing friction between you and the sub-commander. You must understand that I'm trained to observe these things," Phlox tells him. As much as I hate to contradict Phlox, I think he's incorrect about the "few months" thing. First of all, friction started the first moment T'Pol stepped her bony butt aboard the ship and turned her nose up at the stench of Porthos and Trip in the morning. Second of all, they've been getting along better in the last few recent months than they did at the beginning of their professional relationship, so if anything, Phlox should have noticed a decrease in friction, not an increase. Either those truncated hours of his hibernation affected Phlox more than he thought, or someone in the editing room needs to take another look at their plot arcs. Quantum tells him flat out that he's wrong and that he and T'Pol are getting along like peas in a pod, "so let it alone." Heedless of Quantum's furrow, Phlox goes on with his analysis: "When one person believes their sexual attraction for another is inappropriate, they often exhibit unexpected behavior. Such as inordinate anger toward comparisons made between their ship and their beagle." Phlox titters. Quantum turns his perma-furrow (have you noticed that even when there's no emotion requiring a furrow, he STILL has one stuck up there?) on Phlox and starts to say, "Listen, Doc --" But Pyro decides she's as bored as we are with this contrived and forced semblance of chemistry between the Captain and his Bony But Buxom Science Officer, and flutters down toward them.
Quantum shouts that there's no sexual attraction. "She's coming back down!" Phlox squawks as Hoshi walks into Sick Bay. "Watch out! Don't let her in the corridor!" Phlox yells. Channeling Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and a few other soprano-pitched Disney heroines, Hoshi puts her hand out for Pyro to land on and coos, "Hey, are you all right?" She shields Pyro with her body and glares at the two panting men: "What are they trying to do to you?" Phlox relieves Hoshi of Pyro and puts the bat back in her cage. Hoshi tells Quantum that the Kreetassans called and left an indignant message for him. "It's the middle of the night!" Quantum grunts. Yeah, but you're up anyway, so what's the big? Hoshi informs him of the Kreetassan suggestion that Enterprise calibrate their clocks to match that of their capital city. "It's not a requirement, sir, it's just a courtesy," Hoshi tells him, parroting President J.F. Kreetassan. Quantum thanks her, in a way that implies not only that she's excused but that he's pretty much going to ignore everything she told him. Before she leaves, Hoshi The Tender-Hearted asks how Porthos is. "I'll let you know," Quantum tells her, and gives Phlox a nasty look. "In a couple of hours." Is it just me, or does Quantum really need a time-out until he adjusts his attitude with a crowbar enema? After finding out that there's no more news on Porthos, and after Phlox's assurance that he'll stay with the pooch, Quantum heads off to bed. "Unless you'd like to continue our discussion regarding Sub-Commander T'Pol," Phlox innocently suggests. Quantum pulls the curtain closed on Phlox's face.
And now we descend, once again, into the depths of The Totally Pointless And Wholly Inappropriate. Quantum dreams that he's at Porthos's funeral. It's raining, the whole crew is there, and Phlox, as the minister, is intoning the eulogy. And now we take a left onto The Path Of The Deeply Disturbed -- as Quantum turns a pathetic face to T'Pol and she moves closer to him, offering the shelter of her umbrella and slipping her hand into his, Phlox's eulogy turns from Porthos to sexual attraction. I'm really starting to wonder what exactly it is that turns some of the writers of this show on. Dead dog = erotic dreams. Well, that's just so appetizing that I wish I could take it home and reheat it with the episode that touted T'Pol's mind-rape as a sexy encounter in the episode trailers. The Blue Lights Of Totally Gratuitous Nekkidity blaze again as Quantum's subconscious reconstructs the first scene of the episode. However, this time, it's he and T'Pol who have contracted a pathogen and must stay in Sick Bay for further mutual rubdown. After Porthos and Hoshi leave, Quantum dips his hands in some more decon gel and turns to face a suddenly nekkid T'Pol. I suppose that's the best way to rid yourself of a pesky pathogen. I find it singular that in both of Quantum's dreams, it's T'Pol who's initiating First Contact. T'Pol and Quantum's skin look like someone in makeup had way too much fun with Benefit Cosmetics glitter powder. T'Pol steps into Quantum's embrace, and I start to worry about all the cuts he's going to get from her edges. Seriously, Jolene? It's called eating -- you might want to try it sometime. Through the comm system, Phlox repeats the same stuff he was saying in Sick Bay about Quantum's alleged attraction to his Science Officer. Can someone tell me what the deal is with this soundtrack sounding like a Cary Grant-Grace Kelly light romantic comedy? As T'Pol kisses Quantum, Quantum mercifully wakes up. I wonder how many other people shot out their televisions tonight.
The handy time stamp tells us that Quantum seems to have slept less than twenty minutes. He staggers over to Phlox, who is now dressed in gold-ish smock, and tells him he dreamt that Porthos died. "Let's hope your dream wasn't prophetic," Phlox tells him gravely. Quantum asks again about the progress of the treatment; Phlox doesn't believe it is going very well. Quantum crouches to the incubator and tells Phlox the tedious story of how Porthos got his name. The mother of one of his ex-girlfriends had a beagle he adored, and when that dog had puppies, the mother called Quantum and offered him one. "Four males in the litter...the Four Musketeers. I've had Porthos since he was six weeks old. I grew up with dogs. Can't remember not having one," Quantum furrows pathetically up at Phlox. He asks Phlox if he ever had any pets. "My people don't keep pets," Phlox tells him. "I thought you said something about the Denobulan lemur being highly sought after," Quantum squints. "Well, very much so -- their kidneys are considered a great delicacy," Phlox tells him. Quantum looks startled.
T'Pol walks in, bearing two more dinners than her allotted two, and comments she thought they might be hungry. Phlox twitters about how very kind and thoughtful she is, but Quantum puts his Furrow Of Petulance back on and says, "Was there something on their list about apologizing on a full stomach?" T'Pol reminds him that he read the Kreetassan communiqué. Quantum grudges out an apology: "Sorry. I'm a little on edge -- I haven't slept very much but I'm doing the breast -- the best I can." Phlox walks between them and mutters, "Hmm," very pointedly. T'Pol accepts his apology and tells him she understands. "Ensign Sato and I have broken down the reconciliation demands into specific categories if you're interested in reviewing them," T'Pol tells him. Quantum barks that the only thing on his mind is Porthos, and T'Pol apologizes for interrupting him. Quantum thinks better of his tone of voice: "No, no. I-i-it's okay. When you get back to the Bridge, why don't you send me you lips -- lisp! List!" T'Pol flickers her eyes at him and leaves without a word. Those Freudian slips were funnier when The Dick Van Dyke Show did them several decades ago. Quantum grabs at his Furrow Of Idiocy, as Phlox comments, "Two Pillarian slips in thirty seconds. Interesting." Porthos's vital signs alarm goes off, and Phlox bustles medically. Phlox reports that his treatment was partially successful, in that Porthos's immune system has stabilized, but his pituitary gland has been severely damaged: "It's all but disintegrated." Phlox orders Quantum to bring him a cage from the corner and to fill a see-through tub. Quantum carries the cage over, asking what is inside. "A Calrissian chameleon -- I'll need to alter its DNA to avoid rejection but its pituitary gland should be compatible with your dog's," Phlox tells him. Okay, did anyone else out there wonder if the chameleon is related to Lando? Quantum questions Phlox's decision to give his dog a transplant from a lizard. "Unless you have a better suggestion. It's a shame, actually, the chameleon secretes a rare toxin that's very useful in treating respiratory infections. She's the last one I have," Phlox tells him. I'm still wondering if that Regulan Blood Worm is still swimming around inside Reed. Quantum asks what's going on with the tank of water. "I'll need to super-hydrate the canine in order to minimize the shock to his pulmonary system," Phlox explains. "You're going to drown my dog?" Quantum squeals. "Only for an hour, Captain, there should be no problem resuscitating him once the surgery's complete," Phlox assures him. Quantum quite rightly asks how many times Phlox has performed this particular procedure. Phlox tells him "never," and he doesn't know anyone who has done it either. Quantum grabs Phlox's arm and grunts, "You know this isn't some guinea pig you're working on, here. This is Porthos, my beagle. My pal!" God, this dialogue stinks so much you could bottle it and sell it as a chemical weapon. Quantum rants some more about Phlox's complete lack of understanding about what it means to have a pet. Phlox agrees, "Perhaps you're right, Captain. Perhaps I am insensitive to the bond between you and your subservient quadruped. I'll leave the procedure up to you, but whatever your decision, make it quickly." Quantum furrows The Furrow Of I Have No Other Option Because He's The Most Medically Minded On This Ship So I Should Just Cheese It Rather Rapidly.
Phlox and Quantum are both wearing The Silver Smocks Of Surgery, and poor Porthos is suspended in a pool of orange goo. As Phlox is performing a procedure that's never been tried before, obviously it must be the very best time for Quantum to discuss his sex life. Or lack thereof. He asks what he's supposed to do about his potential attraction to T'Pol. Phlox tells him he should neither ignore it nor say anything to her. "If you were ignoring it, you obviously wouldn't be seeking my opinion -- especially under these circumstances [See? Even Phlox recognizes the ickiness of this discussion while Porthos's head is being cut open. I think the patient due for a pituitary transplant is Capt. Immature here!]. As for discussing it with the Sub-Commander, that's entirely up to you but I can't imagine an outcome that would do anything but make matters worse," Phlox tells him, and pointedly asks for the "auto-suture." Quantum asks when they'll know the transplant is working. "One step at a time, first we need to resuscitate him," Phlox tells him. "So, I can't ignore it and I can't talk about it -- what do you suggest I do?" Quantum presses, the cursory question of Porthos's life or death more or less taken care of. Phlox advises, "Be aware of it, Captain. Simply be aware of it -- you'd be surprised what a difference that'll make. Lower the fluidic temperature twelve degrees." Quantum asks if Porthos will need rehab or a special diet with his new pituitary gland. "You may have trouble finding him," Phlox tosses off carelessly. "He'll have the ability to blend into the background when frightened." Quantum says, "You're kidding." "Yes, I am -- ha ha ha," Phlox admits. Darn! That would have been awesome -- then Porthos would be safe from Suliban and Ferengi invasions.
Quantum wants to know if Phlox's expertise on sexual attraction comes from his training or from firsthand experience. "I do have three wives," Phlox reminds him. "And they each have -- ?" Quantum prompts. "Two husbands besides myself," Phlox supplies. Quantum admits that he finds that quite complicated for his furrow. "Very. Why else be polygamous?" Phlox points out. Quantum tries to learn more about the Denobulan approach to relationships, but his math is weak. "A total of seven hundred and twenty relationships, forty-two of which have romantic possibilities," Phlox tells him. Quantum mentions Phlox's five children, and asks how many there are in the extended family. "Thirty-one, at last count," Phlox responds. Quantum suspects that Phlox must miss them, but Phlox tells him that they all got lives of their own years ago. "I would have never guessed -- you don't look that old," Quantum observes. Phlox looks startled but pleased, and thinks he'll take it as a compliment: "My two daughters I am proud to say followed in my footsteps. One's a surgeon, the other's a biochemist." Quantum asks about the other three, and learns that one of Phlox's sons is an artisan potter who lives in the same town as his mother and "creates beautiful things." "And the other two?" Quantum presses. Phlox makes a small face and admits that he and his younger two sons never "saw eye-to-eye" and haven't spoken in a long time. Quantum apologizes for his nosiness, but Phlox assures him, "It's perfectly all right -- you asked me if I missed them, the answer is 'yes,' every one of them. The children, the wives...even the other husbands." Quantum looks up sharply and wonders just what exactly those forty-two romantic possibilities are. Phlox assures Quantum that Denobulans live a long time, and there's nowhere else he'd rather be than on board Enterprise. Quantum still looks troubled and says, "Listen, Doc, however this turns out, I want to apologize for being insensitive before." Phlox recalls that Quantum accused his entire species of being insensitive. "Then I apologize to you and all your fellow Denobulans," Quantum rephrases. Phlox, clearly enjoying teasing a less-petulant Captain, says, "Well, I can't speak for the others, but on behalf of myself, I accept." Quantum almost smiles. "And to think, T'Pol told me you were incapable of apologizing," Phlox observes innocently. He's got Quantum pegged, all right. Quantum furrows The Furrow Of Proving That Dreamalicious Vulcan Wrong.
Kreetassan Planet. Quantum, his bare chest painted with symbols, wearing cornrows and speaking in Kreetassan, brandishes a chainsaw. I hope he's taking it to this episode's script. As Hoshi, T'Pol, and Trip watch along with a few Kreetassans, he saws off rounds of a tree, presents them to the Kreetassans, says a few Kreetassan words, and proceeds to make a pretty picture out of them. This goes on for awhile. And while I have absolutely no problem observing Quantum make a fool of himself, I do take issue with being subjected to constant exhibitions of the animal that died on his chest. I think they adorned him with more fuzz in this episode than they did in the Osama Bin Dribblin' lacrosse game. When the Kreetassans fail to be impressed by Quantum's log sawing, he checks his e-pad and sees where his paint-by-bark went wrong. He corrects his mistake with more arm-flinging and Kreetassanish. The Kreetassans smile and look happy. Quantum glares at a barely-concealing-his-snigger Trip.
Quantum's Quarters. It's nine-fifteen in the morning (I wonder if that's Enterprise or Kreetassan time), and Quantum's having his morning eggs when T'Pol walks in to report Trip's contentment with their new plasma injector. "Did he tell you they gave us two spares out of the kindness of their hearts?" Quantum smirks, and paces over to his Weight Of The World Window to ponder his excessive greatness when it comes to humility. "Evidently, the finesse you exhibited outside the Hall of Diplomacy was appreciated," T'Pol comments. Either that or they were so terrified by his Chia Chest that they want to ensure he doesn't come back to bug them for plasma injectors again. "Since I've been getting so much practice giving apologies, I thought I might give you one," Quantum says, nearly gagging on the last half of his sentence. T'Pol tells him it's not necessary. "Yes, it is," Quantum contradicts her. "I've been under a lot of stress lately, haven't gotten much sleep. My dog --" T'Pol interrupts the information as to whether Porthos is dead or alive by telling him there's no need for him to apologize. "Whatever friction there's been between us -- I'd like to try to minimize it," Quantum says. T'Pol believes that friction happens when people are in such close quarters for extended periods of time. "I guess that's always been true," Quantum agrees, and goes on to say, "Especially when the people are of the opposite sex." Oh, god -- where is he going with this? Didn't he listen when Phlox told him he'd only make it worse if he opened his big furrowing mouth? T'Pol heads him off at the pass and says, "Then it's good that you're my superior officer [and] that we're not in a position to allow ourselves to become attracted to one another...hypothetically. If we were, the friction that you speak of could be much more problematic." And sexually harassing. Quantum furrows The Furrow Of Being Shot Down Before He Even Really Got Up In The Air, and nods. T'Pol mimics his nod, sans furrow, and leaves him to more furrowing and his window.
Corridor. Quantum even furrows when he walks. The man needs to watch tapes of his performances and consider getting a complete furrow-ectomy. I'm serious, people; this is getting out of control. Quantum walks into Sick Bay. "No apologies," Phlox advises him. "I promise," Quantum half-laughs. Phlox understands that things went well with the Kreetassans, and Quantum admits to doubting whether he would have gone down there if it weren't for Phlox's clever psychology. "I owe you one," Quantum stiffs. Phlox shrugs that off and tells him he'll be pleased to know that while he was gone, things went very well with Porthos. "The transplant?" Quantum asks, suddenly concerned.
Wait -- he hasn't found out about Porthos' status, yet he was calmly eating his eggs and nearly propositioning his Science Officer? If he were trying to portray a true animal lover, he would have come running into Sick Bay -- bead-plastered cornrows and all -- as soon as he got back from the planet's surface. And going by the shot of Enterprise sailing through the sky, it looks like she's long been underway, which means he would have had to give that order to May-smack before he gave his egg order to Chef! Although, honestly? It's not like I bought Quantum's "I'm just acting like a completely spoiled brat because I'm concerned for my pet" once during the excursion through his subconscious urges masquerading as an episode. Memo to Bakula, whose "talent" I once enjoyed on a long-ago show: Excessive petulance and peevishness does not add up to concern for your pet. It sure as hell didn't convince this animal lover, and I know for a fact that it didn't convince any other animal lovers out there either. And while I'm up, here's a memo to the freak who signed me up for a virus-infected Bakula Fan Club mailing list: You're a prick and obviously nurse a severely mangled psyche.
"Not the slightest sign of rejection," Phlox assures him. Quantum asks if he can see him. Now that he's been reminded of his existence. Phlox leads the way to the incubator, where Porthos is stretched out, recovering. "It's been one hell of a night, hasn't it?" Quantum asks Phlox. "How soon can he leave?" "Now is as good a time as any," Phlox tells him. "But he's --" "Unconscious? Nonsense, he's just asleep," Phlox corrects him and knocks on the incubator, calling, "Porthos!" Porthos jumps up and looks around. Quantum opens the incubator and picks up the dog, who is far too cute to be seen on the likes of this show. Quantum carries the patched Porthos to the Sick Bay doors and turns to say, "Sick Bay's all yours." "You're welcome back anytime, Captain," Phlox assures him, and smiles his special Denobulan smile, the likes of which we haven't seen since the first episode of the first season.
week is rerun time, and I'm off to a Halloween party with Mathra as my bloodied sous chef.