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The crew gets his by a raging case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,, except T'Pol. Quantum alternates between writer's block and verbal diarrhea, Trip takes the Captain's chair apart, nut by nut, and Hoshi plays Ironic Chef in the galley with the secret ingredient being supplied by the OCD-iosis. In Sickbay, Phlox fixates on May-brain-and-brain-what-is-brain's headache while May- brain-and-brain-what-is-brain freaks about getting thrown off the show -- uh, ship -- if he doesn't return to duty. After Reed organizes all his lipsticks, pencils, and glosses alphabetically by primary shade cross-referenced by flavor, brand, and season, he spends the rest of the show developing a new alarm system and acting like Tom Ridge. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
I liked it. I laughed a lot, I rewound particular scenes for reasons other than recapping, and I thought Bakula starting showing some of his old Quantum Leap acting stripes again. Granted, this illness hitting the crew has been done to death, but it still made for an enjoyable episode. At least they didn't have Reed devolving into a red-bottomed monkey.
Scenes from the ship show that all officers are facedown. T'Pol records in her Science Officer's log that she, like Elton John, is the only one still standing. Ensign Coma-weather is strapped to a chair in Sickbay with a blue medical apparatus haloing his head. And you know, even with that? He's still not very interesting. On the floor, Phlox lies with a scalpel near his head. Quantum is facedown on his desk with a bit of drool trickling out. T'Pol notes that in addition to the crew being down, they're also headed for a black hole. And? Even though she sent out a distress signal, the nearest Vulcan ship is nine days away. In other words, she's having A Horrible Terrible No Good Very Bad Day. She should just be glad she's not being forced to wear blue and red sneakers and take a bath.
I want to hurt the song, as the song hurt me, and I want to go on hurting the song. I want to leave the song stranded on a dead planet. Buried aliiiive. Buried aliiiive!
Her voice punctuated with un-Vulcan-like emotional crackles, T'Pol continues logging the fact that she has no hope of curing the crew of their excessive laziness without Phlox's help, so she's documenting their situation for posterity. Mathra stands up and pantomimes a little Wayne's World "Doodle-lee-doo! Doodle-lee-doo!" as we all set our clocks to Flashback Time.
Bridge. The trouble all started with a measly Class IV Black Hole that Quantum's hot to take a dekko at. This Black Hole's extra special because it's part of a trinary star system! I know, I know -- when I heard that, I was so excited I nearly pulled a Malcolm and wet myself. "Don't get too excited -- the writers screwed up the science again. It's ternary, NOT TRINARY!" Mathra spits at the TV set. And we're done with the staining kind of red wine. T'Pol and Quantum set up the fact that in order to safely reach the Black Hole, they have to drop to impulse, which means their little side trip will take them two days. T'Pol goes to make the necessary arrangements, and Quantum asks if Trip can take a look at his chair. "Sir?" Trip doesn't get what he's driving at. "You may have noticed that I don't sit in it very much," Quantum tells him. "Is there a problem?" Trip wonders. "It's uncomfortable," Quantum confides in hushed tones. I just figured he had hemorrhoids. "When I lean back, I feel like I'm about to slide out of it. I have to sort of perch on the edge," Quantum admits. Holy cow -- is that a shout-out to all the times I've commented on T'Pol "perching" on that thing? "I always assumed it wuz the best seat in the howse," Trip states. I'm really restraining myself from making a toilet joke. Quantum asks if he will take a look at it, but Trip whines that he was going to purge some technobabbles. I'm going to purge something, and it's not going to be the impulse manifolds. "The chair first, if you don't mind," Quantum says, punctuating his words by stabbing his finger in the direction of the object in question. Trip pauses before saying, "Aye aye, sir." Quantum "hms" his response and smiles amiably as Trip leaves. It could be my excessive inebriation, but Quantum didn't stink up the Bridge in that scene. He actually resembled a human man instead of a redwood!
Do you know why Sars is the best boss I've EVER had? 'Cuz none of the others ever gave me a "Star Trek Ships of the Line" calendar for my birthday! She's so awesome. ["Aw, you're welcome." -- Sars] Now the problem is convincing Mathra she sent it to ME. "I knew her first!" Mathra yells from the back room. Honey? Shut up.
Captain's Quarters. Quantum reads one of my recaps on his computer as T'Pol walks in with the duty roster and some messages. Reed wants to talk to him about a new security protocol, and Chef is ill -- probably annoyed with his review in the newest edition of Zagat's Spaceships, Landcruisers, and Shuttlepods: Alpha Quadrant. I mean, comments like "The plomeek soup is logical enough," "Really knows how to press those protein resequencer buttons," and "Does stuff with leftover engine parts you'd never imagine possible" are probably overshadowed by "Food so bad, it should be flung into the nearest wormhole," "Even a Ferengi wouldn't steal this meal," and "Needs to realize that 'Targ, it's what's for dinner' isn't funny when it's true." Luckily, Hoshi has volunteered to take over his duties. "Apparently, she spends some of her free time in the galley and is eager for an opportunity to cook for the crew," T'Pol finishes. Quantum looks charmed by this idea, and okays it, as long as Chef doesn't freak out if she uses his knives. Scratch that -- I'm sure Chef actually sleeps with his knives.
Quantum changes subjects and tells T'Pol he's been asked to write the preface for a biography on his father. "Would you mind reading it when I'm done?" Quantum furrows. "I'd be happy to," T'Pol tells him. "Happy"? Bit of a human emotion there, T'Pol. And don't say "it's just an expression," because there's no logical reason why any Vulcan would use a human expression that didn't apply to them. Quantum paces a bit and admits that he's struggling with getting it down; he's been putting it off for weeks. T'Pol thinks their Impulse Side Trip will give him ample time to write, rewrite, delete, and go crazy. Quantum admits that time isn't the problem: "They only asked for a page. How am I supposed to sum up my father's life in a page?" You're not. That's what the rest of the book is for. As the preface writer -- and the son of the book's subject -- you're supposed to praise the writer, thank him for speaking so eloquently about your father and his sepia-toned accomplishments, and say something about the other people who were important to your father's work. Here, do you want me to do it for you? T'Pol gives some advice about focusing on a single defining memory as a way to "condense his thoughts." Sure, like your stupid gazelle story that seems to have fascinated everyone into hysterics, but which I still refuse to remember, or the time he told you, "Don't be afraid to fly into the wind, Jon!" No one reads prefaces, anyway, so stop over-furrowing it. Quantum jokingly asks T'Pol if she wants to write it for him. "I'm hardly qualified," T'Pol says, and leaves. Quantum's expression actually makes me wonder if he was really serious in his request. Wow. Instead of totally convincing me I'm watching a two-by-four move across the screen, Bakula's actually making me think about what he's trying to portray in these scenes. Although the furrows are still there, so no worries that I'm going completely soft on him.
Galley. God, what I wouldn't kill and roast over an open flame to trade in my closet kitchen for that kind of stainless steel space! Some line cook tells Hoshi that Chef was planning on making fried chicken -- can they stop with the Southern Home Cookin' foods already? -- with scalloped potatoes and "some of that Minaran spinach [they] picked up on Risa." "The orange spinach?" Hoshi asks, in order to let us know that alien spinach can't be green and chock full of the chlorophylls that Earth spinach is full of. "He's convinced there's a way to make it edible," Line Cook tells her. Hoshi thinks they'll let Chef take care of that when he gets over his bad review: "I have something else in mind." She points at a monitor covered in Japanese characters, alongside a picture of a bowl of soup with chopsticks. I know I'm not that dexterous with them, but how do you eat soup with chopsticks? Hoshi explains that it's a famous family recipe, and Line Cook tells her he needs a translation in order to program the protein resequencer. "Oh, no," Hoshi says, putting up her hand and getting into the "aees ees my keetchin!" mode already: "You can resequence all the chicken and potatoes you want." She reaches under a counter and pulls out a five-gallon stockpot -- which, incidentally, is exactly the size of my ENTIRE KITCHEN -- and tells him she's making everything from scratch. Oh, Luuucy! Line Cook pulls a bit of a face and leaves. Probably to tattle on her. Interesting detail they included in this scene: one of the counters had one of those cookbook stands I've wanted for awhile. Those things are so helpful. Especially when you have hi-tech monitors displaying the complete recipe right above your head.
Sickbay. Phlox mortar-and-pestles something intently. May-One-Scrambled-Brain-Coming-Up walks in and complains of a headache. Phlox barely looks over his shoulder to greet him. Shifty Sign #1. May-One-Scrambled-Brain-Coming-Up assumes it's nothing and just wants some hypo-Advil, stat. Phlox tells him it would be Very Bad of him to go about dispensing medicine without doing excessive amounts of prodding, poking, and pinching to see if any discharge comes out. May-Brain-Omelet tells him he hasn't had any other symptoms, and has had the pain for a couple of days on and off. Phlox tells him he has been meaning to make Continuity pee in his pants and re-examine May-Poached-Brain to see if there's been any life-threatening situation they can play upon for sweeps as a result of the implants implanted by the Truck Stop From Hell. May-One-Brain-Over-Easy asks, "You think it could have something to do with that?" Phlox never rules anything out: "Terrellian Plague starts out with a simple headache and then all manner of nasty things begin to happen." Phlox seems to be lost in a pleasing muse over the "all manner of nasty things," but recalls himself to scan May-This-Is-Your-Brain's neck region for muscular tension. May-This-Is-Your-Brain-On-This-Show is very disconcerted as he contemplates how many more lines he gets before the writers find yet another way to silence him.
Bridge. Trip and one of his enginerds play with the Captain's chair and bug T'Pol, who tries several times to get Trip's attention in order to tell him to cut it out. Trip doesn't hear her over the disturbingly dental sound of his little drill. T'Pol finally gets through to him and suggests he do his drilling another time. They argue about who is more entitled to the Bridge, and Trip says, "I thought Vulcans had all this mental focus and discipline." T'Pol stands up and leans over her console. "We also have sensitive hearing," she says pointedly. Geddit? Pointedly? Hearing? Vulcans have pointed ears? You know, if you're not going to laugh, why are you reading this? Trip accepts that and goes back to his drilling. T'Pol stalks off and says she'll be in her quarters. "We'll let you know when we're done," Trip shouts. Jolene was good in this scene. I think something magical happens when she has to lean over her console and address Trip when he's on the floor. It's happened before.
Armory. Reed putters around with his TOR-pee-dos -- and you know, I wasn't even going for a potty joke that time. I was just making fun of how he pronounces the word, but looky there! Quantum enters, and Reed tells him of the security protocol he wants to introduce to the ship because he thinks the crew can do better when they meet hostile species. "And you have a proposal?" Quantum asks. "I've been thinking of a ship-wide emergency alert -- something a bit more comprehensive than 'Battle Stations.' We're taking far too long to react to potential threats. With a single word from you or an impact to the hull, the plating could be polarized, weapons brought online, critical systems secured," Reed elaborates. Quantum appreciates his concern, but reminds him they're not a warship. "Well, that's obvious, sir," Reed says a bit snittily. He hands over his proposal and elaborates all the ways they did bad when encountering hostiles one through sixteen. Quantum takes a look while Reed fidgets impatiently. "Run this by the senior officers. Get some feedback, and we'll talk again," Quantum suggests. What "senior officers" -- does he mean Trip? Reed accepts this, and Quantum goes to leave, but turns back to say, "And Malcolm, don't call it 'Battle Stations,' think of something less aggressive." Reed puzzles over the meaning of "less aggressive."
Mess Hall. Like any good chef, Hoshi walks around the crew and inquires how they're enjoying her dish. It seems well received. Trip and Reed sit together and obsessive-compulse over their work. "Condition Red?" Reed asks. "Well, now he's just taking names right off his lipsticks!" Mathra points out. Trip grunts. "What about 'Condition Red' for the new security protocol?" Reed elaborates. Trip wonders why he just doesn't call it "Security Protocol," but Reed doesn't think that's "very dynamic." "Do you think a cup holder is too much?" Trip asks. Once Reed understands what Trip is talking about, he chuckles derisively, "Just what the Captain needs in a crisis -- a place to rest his beverage." Snark it up! Trip defensively explains that the chair will have lots of other functions as well, like accessing tactical info from the armory.
"If you really want to improve tactical readiness, why don't you help me with this protocol?" Reed asks. "I'm a little busy right now, Malcolm," Trip sniffs. "It's a chair!" Reed reminds him. "It's the Captain's chair," Trip corrects him. "It's just as important as yer...Reed Alert." Heh, "Reed Alert." Unbeknownst to him, that's what they all say when someone sees Malcolm approaching. Malcolm considers Trip's sarcastic suggestion and muses that it's not bad. Trip gives him a dirty look as Hoshi walks up and asks how they enjoyed their meal. Trip thought it was great. An overhead view of the table shows that Trip cleaned his plate, whereas Malcolm barely seems to have touched his portion. "It's called 'oden.' Every Japanese family has their own way of preparing it," Hoshi explains. hollytree searched this dish out and discovered it to be a broth over -- get this -- "fishcakes"! Um, shout-out? "Well, it seems to be a big hit," Trip says, looking around in an absent way. "Congratulations." Hoshi comments on the state of Reed's plate and offers to get him a fresh bowl. Not looking up, he tells her it's not necessary, as he's not very hungry. Hoshi demands to know if there was anything wrong with the dish. "Well," Reed says, looking up, "it was a bit salty." "Salty?" Hoshi repeats, and samples his portion. "Oh, it tastes fine," she informs him. "Well, it just must be me, then -- everybody else seems to be enjoying it," Reed says, getting up with his eyes glued to his e-pad. Trip gets up from the table in a similar fashion, and they head off in opposite directions. Cool blocking. Hoshi stands there and looks disturbed.
Sickbay. Lying on the SCAT table, May-Brain-And-Brain wants to know how much longer Phlox is going to take, and insists that he has to get back to the Bridge, as the Captain needs "those upgrades." Phlox tells him he won't be returning to duty that day, and that when it comes to medical matters, his word supersedes Quantum's: "I'm keeping you overnight for observation." May-What-Is-Brain protests that his scans didn't show anything. "That's what concerns me -- whatever is affecting you may be laying dormant. I'm going to run a full bio-molecular scan to see if we can find where it's hiding," Phlox explains, shaking an instrument at his monitor. May-Pinky-And-The-Brain tries to leave, but Phlox pushes him back down and tells him not to move. He slides May-The-Not-So-Great-Brain-Does-It-Again into the SCAT tube. The SCAT tube's door closes ominously behind him. Did you notice that even when he's on the show, they hide him away?
Quantum's Quarters. Quantum orates something dull that he and his father did where he met Tasaki and Cochrane. And saw first-hand what a raging alkie Cochrane is. Porthos sits on the bed and watches his master pace. He barks to remind Quantum that it's way past his dinnertime. Quantum orders the computer to pause, and meanly tells Porthos that he'll feed him in a minute. Not liking where this is going -- the human bastard. Quantum continues with his preface dictating -- obviously having major constipation issues -- and rubs his head. He stops and tells the computer to delete everything he said. Porthos barks again. "Quiet!" Quantum snaps. Porthos jumps off the bed, onto his own pillow bed, and lays his head down sadly. Quantum just stares angrily at his dog and doesn't do anything. Oh, you big furrowing ass! I swear, Bermaga are reading my recaps and are so angry with how many shreds I rip them into that they are purposely doing things calculated to piss me off and make me despise Quantum even more. Granted, I shout at my cats when they knock every book of the shelf at three in the morning or when they leap right on my dinners at the wrong time of the month, but I always feel immediately sorry. And plus, Porthos wasn't doing anything but asking Quantum not to starve him to death. Mark my words, one of these days, I'm getting out the sh'pod, grabbing Porthos, taking control of the galley, and forcing Quantum to eat cheese, cheese, and nothing but cheese for the rest of his life. Then I'll take over Sickbay and make Quantum do a full course of botox injections and on my way out, I'll steal all of Malcolm's Bonne Bells and unmake his bed.
As the Obsessive Compulsiviosis works its repeated hand-washing magic around the ship, T'Pol stays in her room and does her homework like a good little Vulcan. Her doorbell chimes and she answers, "Come in!" a little sharply for one who will tell us later that her Vulcan physio immunized her to the Obsessive Compulsiviosis. Trip walks in and technobabbles stuff that she asked for. "What's the emergency?" he asks. T'Pol tells him the trinary system around the Black Hole is emitting "some unusual radiation," and she's attempting to identify it. Trip can't believe she "dragged" him up to her quarters for radiation, and doesn't think it qualifies as "urgent." Especially not when he was calculating how much pressure to apply to Quantum's butt. Via the chair. T'Pol clarifies that she said it was "important," not "urgent." "Ah, I git it," Trip figures. "Yer paying me back -- makin' me jump through hoops because Ah wuz makin' too much noyz." T'Pol turns to look at him curiously. Trip puts down the case he carried up to T'Pol's and tells her he moved the Captain's chair to Engineering so that her sensitive ears can be on the Bridge again. T'Pol prefers to work in her cabin, and Trip shrugs and starts to leave. T'Pol calls him back, saying that she'll need his assistance with the thing he brought up to her. "Weren't you listenin' to me? I don't have time to cater to yer whims. You wanna gitcher name immortalized in the Vulcun database -- git someone else to help yew dew it," Trip lashes. T'Pol asks him if he's quite all right. Trip decides to answer her by going on a rant about how important Quantum is to the ship, and therefore, if his heinie isn't happy, he can't command properly. So, can we blame all his bad decisions and acting on how uncomfortable his chair was?
Sickbay. May-Frontal-Lobe worries that he's been in Sickbay all night and is about to go on duty. He starts to get off the table, but Phlox grabs his shoulder and forces him back, saying he hasn't been discharged yet. "I need to perform a cerebral micro-section," Phlox insists. May-Occipital-Lobe freaks a bit and insists on leaving: "If I don't finish those upgrades, I could get a reprimand. It'll be in my permanent record!" Phlox tells him he should be worried over more than that, and points at May-Cornea's scan: "Your cortical scan shows elevated levels of serotonin and several other neurotransmitters." Now he's just making things up. They argue a bit more, and May-Hey-That-Last-One-Wasn't-A-Part-Of-The-Brain worries about being court-martialed. "And what if you're carrying a protocystian spore and you infect the rest of the crew, hmm?" Phlox asks, warming up to the potential carnage. "Or what if you suddenly suffer a seizure at the helm because you've contracted Andronesian Encephalitis?" They have mosquitoes flying around the ship? And standing water? Phlox yells and shakes his finger at May-Amygdala that there's something wrong with him and he's going to get to the bottom of it. May-Cerebellum takes a deep breath and bugs out his eyes for his Big Scene. "Not today!" he shouts back at Phlox, causing the doctor to lean away from his halitosis. "Not during my shift! Unless you're ready to tie me to a bio-bed, I'm going back to my helm!" May-Cerebral-Cortex storms to the door while Phlox looks stunned but still shifty. "At least let me give you an analgesic for the headache, hmm?" Phlox whimpers. His "hmm" was like a teenager's voice cracking -- it was really funny. May "Gullible's Travels" Weather comes back and tells him that's all he ever wanted in the first place; he sits on the examining table and waits for the nice, normal, and not at all threatening Phlox to give him exactly what he deserves. Phlox hypos him, and May "I Just Bought The Brooklyn Bridge" Weather rolls his eyes around and says, "What did you...?" before collapsing. Phlox puts him back on the table and straps him in for good measure. Kinky.
Engineering. Reed blathers more at Trip about his security thingy and tells him that he thought calling it "Reed Alert" was too narcissistic, so he needs a new name. How about Diaper Alert? Reed tries out several alarm systems -- all of which would drive anyone screaming out of the airlock -- and tries to get Trip's opinion on them. Trip tells him, "They both sound like a bag full of cats!" and goes on to say that he really doesn't give two hoots about Reed's security thingy, because he's got the Captain's ass in the forefront of his mind. "Fine! Let's hope we don't suffer a catastrophic reactor breach in the meantime!" Reed snits off. And when I say "snits," I really mean "hissyfits." Trip gives a good impression of someone grinding his teeth down to their roots.
Galley. Line Cook comes in and tells Iron Chef Hoshi that she's got a mess of hungry crewmen waiting for their chow: "If we don't serve something soon, we're going to have a riot on our hands!" Iron Chef Hoshi hands him a spoon and asks, "Is this too salty?" Line Cook rears back in annoyance, and Iron Chef Hoshi takes the untasted spoon away and tastes it herself. "Something's not right," she mutters, "Hand me the Kreetassan spice, I'll add it to the stock. Oh, and I'm out of carrots." Line Cook starts to tell her again that there are twenty-five people in the Mess Hall who are about to start banging on their plates, but Iron Chef Hoshi interrupts him yelling, "CARROTS!" Hee! Line Cook brings out the carrots and attempts to talk sense into Iron Chef Hoshi, so she relieves him of his duties. You know, he's acting pretty normal -- is it only the starring cast and May-Something who's affected by Obsessive Compulsiviosis? "Ma'am --" Line Cook starts again. "GET OUT!" Iron Chef Hoshi shrieks, shaking with rage. No soup for him, I guess.
Armory. T'Pol enters to ask for Reed's help, but Reed demands her clearance code before he'll speak to her. "The Armory is a restricted area!" Reed informs her. "Even to the First Officer?" T'Pol inquires. Reed rolls his eyes and asks how he knows she's really the First Officer if she doesn't give him her clearance code. I think her dinners are her clearance codes. "We've encountered species that can alter their appearance. They could masquerade as any one of us. I've issued codes to all senior officers to reveal if the ship's been infiltrated by impostors," Reed tells her. What if these masquerading aliens take on the appearance of a non-senior officer, like Daniels? What then, Tom Ridge? T'Pol carefully assumes that his paranoia is all part of his new security protocol. "It was sent to your console as a voice-encrypted command packet," Reed tells her. T'Pol lets him know she hasn't been to the Bridge for several hours, and again asks for his help in installing a sensor interface in her quarters: "I've asked Commander Tucker, but he became agitated. It was uncharacteristic. Even for him." Hee. T'Pol asks Reed if he's noticed anything "abnormal" about Trip's behavior. Where do I even start with that one? Instead of answering -- or thinking that if Trip is reportedly acting strangely, it might mean he's been infiltrated by a masquerading alien -- Reed suspiciously asks, "Why do you want to access the sensor array from your quarters?" T'Pol tells him that Quantum ordered her to run systems of the trinary star system. "I wasn't informed," Reed announces. "It's not a tactical issue," T'Pol tells him carefully, and spies a phase pistol at his side. She wants to know why he's armed. "From now on, security personnel are to wear side-arms in all restricted areas," Reed smugs. T'Pol ascertains that nothing Reed has been implementing in his new security proposal has yet been cleared by Quantum. Reed gets derisive and bitter as he says, "I've been trying to get him to pay closer attention to security since we left spacedock. But he's more interested in fraternizing with the crew. Inviting them to breakfast and to watch water polo [hee!]. I intend to implement some long-overdue changes and if the Captain won't approve them, then I'll go directly to Starfleet Command!" Reed asks if T'Pol wants anything else. "No," she tells him, and slowly backs away from him and out of the Armory. It's interesting that Snarky Reed is more like Bitchy Reed. Hmm.
T'Pol logs that she realized the "odd behavior" was affecting everyone around her: "Growing consumed with matters that seemed trivial at best. I also discovered that although I appeared immune, the Captain was not." Duh -- she's Vulcan and he's not, so why would she ever think he would have been immune? For a Vulcan, she's not all that logical sometimes.
Engineering. Quantum enters to ask Trip's feedback on his preface. He spies Trip standing very still, holding a piece of the chair and looking really indignant. Quantum asks what happened to his chair. "Did you know that this chair is the exact same model used on Neptune Class survey ships?" Trip demands. And from Trip's flared nostrils, I assume that's a bad thing? Quantum can't believe that's why Trip called him down. Trip vehemently feels that Quantum's tushie deserves much better than Neptune Class cast-offs, "so Ah'm starting from scratch!" Trip grins, "Ah'minna build yew a throne!" They expect me to ignore pewp jokes, but they give me lines like that? Come on! Trip orders Quantum to stand still while he scans him to get his "exact dimensions." Um -- okay. "This baby is going to fit like a glove," Trip assures him and holds up a big Dustbuster. Quantum hastily steps back and asks, "Isn't that used for aligning phase coils?" Trip rolls his eyes, says he won't feel a "thang," and orders him to stand still. He starts scanning Quantum's front with a fluorescent light, and Quantum thinks it's the optimal time to start reading Trip his preface. Trip orders Quantum to turn around. He scans the back of him. Quantum continues reading boring stuff and Trip, his scans of Quantum's four cheeks achieved, walks away and tells him he's done. Quantum wants to know what Trip thinks of his preface. "Sounds good," Trip tells him absently. Quantum insists on reading him the rest, but Trip tells him he's really gotta get to studying the dimensions and dimples encased in his buttocks. "It's just a few more pages," Quantum assures him. "How many more?" Trip demands. "Nineteen," Quantum replies. Trip turns around, "Nineteen!? Are you writin' the preface or the book?" "I've got a lot to say," Quantum says firmly. "No kiddin'!" Trip comments. Quantum gets all hurt and asks what he's implying. "Well, if I may, sir, it's a little long-winded," Trip squares his jaw. "I think that's a rip on the length of your recaps," Mathra cackles. Quantum gets all angry: "You're lucky you're a decent engineer because you obviously don't know anything about writing." You know what I loved? How Bakula made his voice quiver when he got to the "writing" part of that line. Maybe I'm dreaming, but I think he's actually getting better with each episode! "I'm not the only one!" Trip shouts. Hee. This was a really great scene for both Bakula and Trinneer. Quantum looks like he's about to cry, and leaves.
Galley. Iron Chef Hoshi pulls ingredients off the shelves and tells T'Pol that she's got eighty-three people to feed, not just senior officers. T'Pol just wants some plomeek soup. "I don't have time for special orders, anyway, you'll like this better," Hoshi tells her. Quantum barrels in and demands lunch. Hoshi says it will be ready in a minute, which of course Quantum doesn't have, so Hoshi tells him to make himself a sandwich. As T'Pol tries to get his attention, Quantum furrows around, runs over to a large pot on the stove, and takes the lid off. "That is a very complex recipe, I will not serve it till it's just right! My family's reputation is at stake!" Hoshi panics, trying to hold Quantum away from her blah-blah-blah-fishcakes. T'Pol watches all this with growing concern; then one of Reed's alarms goes off. Reed's voice comes over the comm., telling everyone that they have a tactical alert and all hands must report to their stations. While Quantum's distracted by this, Hoshi claps the lid back on the pot. Quantum stares at her, but Hoshi just looks blankly back. Hee. T'Pol's lips swell with even more concern. Either that or she got into the Kreetassan spice.
Bridge. Quantum runs up to Reed and demands to know what the emergency is. Reed stands with his arms crossed and snits that the crew's response was "unacceptable." "Thirty-eight percent of them failed to report to their stations. Critical systems haven't been secured and I haven't even heard from Engineering!" Reed tattletales. Quantum orders him to shut off the noise. "I don't recall authorizing a tactical drill!" Quantum shouts. "Well, it wouldn't be much of a drill if everybody knew about it, sir," Reed snarks. Better watch it, Malcolm; you might have to go flog yourself if you get insubordinate. Or something less masturbatory. Reed tells Quantum it took him a minute and fifteen seconds to report to his post: "I'd expect more of our commanding officer given that the crew just might follow his example!" T'Pol just observes all of this. I gotta wonder how different this is from the way she sees these humans every day.
Trip runs in with another update on how he can caress his Captain's butt. "One minute and forty-nine seconds," Reed announces to Trip. Trip pauses briefly to give Reed this hysterical, derisive look of "Whatever, freaker!" before turning to Quantum. I really can't do the look justice in description, but we rewound the scene six times -- I think it's the funniest thing I've seen on this show yet. Trip leads Quantum over to a graphic of his chair mock-up: "Inneractive status displays, secondary helm control -- it's even got inertial micro-dampers. The ship could be shaking apart and you'd hardly feel a thang!" "Why not just install seatbelts?" Mathra wonders. "You ignored a tactical alert for this?" Reed shrills. Trip grimaces at him and tells Quantum he wants to get his opinion on headrest colors. "This is all a big joke to you!" Reed whines. "Give it a rest!" Trip shouts. "This isn't a bloody pleasure cruise. Without proper discipline on this ship, this mission is doomed!" Reed shouts back. We can see a larger graphic of the Captain's chair spinning on another display behind Reed's head. Hee. Quantum is back to being completely immersed in his preface on his e-pad. "Why don't you go play soldier somewhere else?" Trip demands. "If this were a military situation, you'd be taken out and shot!" Reed informs Trip. Trip pauses a minute, then grabs Malcolm by the lapels and throws him against the bulkhead. "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Mathra hops around the living room. Quantum gets between them and throws each of them against separate bulkheads. He forces his arm across Trip's chest and tells him he doesn't give a damn about the color of the headrest; he just wants somewhere comfortable to furrow from. , he turns to Reed and tells him that if he blows that alarm one more time, he might take him out and have him shot. Reed frowns, and Trip looks at him like, "Yeah, that's right!" Quantum storms over to T'Pol and tells him he's not to be interrupted unless there's a real emergency -- like a reactor breach. Or May-Aneurysm getting a line. T'Pol grows ever more logically concerned.
Quantum's Quarters. Barefoot, Quantum sits slumped against his wall and barely moves when T'Pol buzzes and walks in. He listlessly snips about needing to lock his door from now on. T'Pol tells him she thinks the whole crew has become obsessive-compulsive and needs to be examined by Phlox. Quantum once more becomes enthralled with his preface, and ignores her. She suggests that they start the medical examinations with him. That gets Quantum's attention. He stands up, looks her in the eye, leans forward, and...no, he doesn't kiss her, thank god! He tells her he's busy. T'Pol tries to argue with him, but he dismisses her and then forcibly removes her from his cabin, telling her that if she doesn't obey his orders, he'll confine her to her quarters until a Vulcan ship can come pick her up. See, now, T'Pol's way stronger than him -- why did she give so little resistance? She should've biffed him one.
Sickbay. Phlox is ominously dressed in his surgical greys as he toys with some ominous-looking instruments and acts ominously. T'Pol walks in just as he's about to insert something sharp into May-Lobotomy-Bay's temple. "Oh, you're just in time, Sub-Commander!" Phlox greets her cheerily. "There's a surgical gown in the compartment by the microscope. This is a rare opportunity to explore the human brain." T'Pol asks in disturbed tones if May-Lobotomy-Bay was injured. "Headache!" Phlox tells her happily, and shows her the chemical imbalance in May-Lobotomy-Bay's prefrontal complex on the graphic scan. "I'm going to begin by extracting the first twelve millimeters of his parietal lobe," Phlox explains. Well, whew -- it's not like that will make much of a difference. I mean, we're talking about Mr. Loboto here. T'Pol steps in front of Phlox and tells him he might want to delay the brain hack because the entire crew is ill. Phlox thinks for a second and says, "They'll have to wait!" Phlox goes back to May-Lobotomy-Bay's head with his small poking device. T'Pol grabs his arm and tells him he's been affected as well. "Please remove your hand," Phlox says in a voice of deadly calm, and clicks his scalpel so it sings a bit. I'm not sure what it did visually, but it had the sound effect of being threatening. He tells her he won't ask her again. T'Pol releases him and disappears behind his shoulder. I'm thinking bringing out the Vulcan Nerve Pinch would be in order here. Phlox tells T'Pol that he'll let her know when he has completed the surgery. NOT! He falls backwards to the ground as T'Pol pinches him, and get this -- I start clapping! I'm thinking she should pass among the whole ship and administer nerve pinches to one and all. Would that be obsessive-compulsive? "What I really want to see is the guy who keeps locking his door over and over again, or Line Cook checking and rechecking that the ovens are turned off -- that's where the drama is!" Mathra comments, carefully making sure not to step on any cracks on our hardwood floor while pulling out clumps of his hair.
Scene of T'Pol walking through the corridors and checking the vital signs of collapsed -- or nerve-pinched -- crewmen. T'Pol darts into the galley and observes Iron Chef Hoshi slumped over a counter. In the background, the stock pot boils over. I don't think she's going to win this week's challenge and have her cuisine reign supreme. T'Pol VOs having a really bad feeling about all of this, but that Phlox's obsession with Loboto-May's headache provided her with the information that the radiation from the trinary -- "TERNARY!" -- system is responsible for the crew's sickness. You know she's really thinking, "Stupid fallible humans!" Something on T'Pol's computer beeps, and she reports that her findings indicate the obsessive-compulsive radiation extends really far in every direction but one. "If I can chart a course between the stars, we could escape the radiation before the crew succumbs. But I won't be able to pilot the ship alone!" T'Pol tells her log firmly. Why doesn't she just go all Silkwood on them and hose everyone down?
Quantum's Quarters. Quantum is slumped over his desk with the drool trickling out -- just like we saw in the opening scenes. T'Pol pulls him up and shouts that he's needed on the Bridge. "I told you not to disturb me," Quantum mutters. T'Pol hoists his arm over her shoulder and drags him away from his desk, telling him his crew is dying and explaining the reasons why. T'Pol pulls Quantum into his bathroom and props him up in his shower. It looks like he has a white comb hanging on the shower wall. He combs his hair in the shower? Maybe it's for his Chia Chest. She turns the water on from the outside (?) of the stall. "Do you understand what I'm telling you?" T'Pol yells through the glass. Quantum gasps at her to turn off the water. "Do you understand?" T'Pol demands, putting her right hand on the glass. Oh, weird flashback to Wrath of Khan and the whole "Ship...out of danger?" scene. *sniff* Excuse me, I need a moment. Quantum seems to indicate he's comprehending what she's saying, "Yes...radiation." He gasps that she should tell Phlox, but she tells him that Phlox is affected as well. I note that she conveniently leaves out the fact that she also pinched him out of commission. T'Pol tells him that she's not affected, so he tells her to turn the ship around. She grabs a towel, turns off the water, and says it's going to take more than bringing the ship about to get them out of danger. In grabbing the towel, she also seems to have grabbed a thermos of coffee that he apparently keeps in his bathroom. "I've charted a course that will have us out of the radiation in less than seventeen minutes," T'Pol says, forcing him to drink the coffee. "Lousy coffee," he gasps. Why? Why, in every television show when someone drinks coffee, do they have to make that same joke? Who invented that joke anyway? Because I really don't understand how it could have been funny. Ever! T'Pol tells Quantum she needs someone to help steer the ship. "Travis?" Quantum asks. "He's been sedated," T'Pol informs him. Can one really tell the difference? Quantum tells her he's too drunk to drive. "We have no other choice," T'Pol tells him. I think they need those inflatable auto-pilots from Airplane!
Orange-flavored asteroid field. So, like Kirk in the Shiny, Happy Spores episode, Quantum is able to shake off his malaise to save the day. Sort of. Quantum squints, groans, sweats, strains, acts constipated, and steers. T'Pol gives him course directionals. He screws most of them up. They almost hit the Rock of Gibraltar, but don't, because Reed's new security system brought the weapons online when they were hit with debris, so they are able to TOR-pee-do the Prudential symbol out of their path. Hey -- Reed did something other than need to have his panties changed! lis must be so proud. Finally, they make it past the orange-flavored asteroid field and sail into regular-flavored black space. They've spent barely two seconds in radiation-free space when Trip picks himself off the floor and squints, "Did we git some nice pic-shurs of the Black Hole?" Totally sounds like me -- drugged by Dramamine -- when my parents got back into the mini-van after visiting some plaque on a rock. Quantum and T'Pol exchange looks, and Trip squints harder. That's gotta be one hell of a hangover.
Sickbay. Phlox scans crewmen and asks Mayweatherbeaten how he's feeling. "A little tired, but the headache's gone -- what did you do?" Mayweatherbeaten asks. Doesn't he remember the hypo-happy doctor? "Very little, fortunately -- you're free to go," Phlox tells him. Quantum limps in with T'Pol and gets the rundown on how the crew is doing. "I appreciate your intervening [he gestures at his neck area], uh, before I got any further with Mr. Mayweather's procedure," Phlox tells T'Pol, while Quantum looks confused. T'Pol says she wasn't sure "it" would work on a Denobulan. Phlox says it was very effective. "Wh-what procedure on Mr. Mayweather?" Quantum asks, furrowing as hard as his little brow can. "The radiation affected my nervous system rather severely," Phlox clears his throat, and says that Quantum will get his full report.
Quantum's Quarters. Reed enters, hands behind his back -- all soldier-boy-like -- and presents himself for his Captain's inspection. Or something. Quantum tells him that his security thingy went off when they were navigating the asteroid field. "I heard, sir. I've already deactivated the new protocols," Reed says stoically but sheepishly. Quantum tells him he should reactivate them, as the weapons came on just in the nick of time and Quantum would like to make it standard procedure. Reed is quietly triumphant. As Quantum leaves, he tells Reed, "You still need to work on that alarm." Reed agrees, and goes off to order several tubes of Raspberry Razzle-Dazzle to celebrate his success.
Bridge. Trip is futzing with Quantum's chair, but steps back when Quantum steps into view. "Doesn't look any different to me," Quantum comments. Trip invites him to give it a try. Quantum sits. "Hm. It feels better. What did you do?" He's not really acting like it feels better. I'm beginning to think that chair is the source of all his bad acting ability. Trip tells him to cross his legs. Quantum awkwardly forces his legs in a girly cross and wriggles a bit: "Whaja do? Seems totally different." "I lowered it by one centimeter," Trip tells him. Quantum chuckles nervously: "That's all?" Trip nods. "Didn't have time to install the new status displays or the inertial micro-dampeners, but if you give me a couple days..." Quantum tells him it won't be necessary. "How about I jest attach the cup-holder?" Trip pleads. "Heh -- they're all playing a big joke on Trip and they didn't give him the OCD-iosis antidote," Mathra sniggers. Quantum tells him that the cup-holder's not necessary, so Trip shrugs and walks off the Bridge. He pauses in the turbo-lift to give Quantum the thumbs-up. Quantum returns it. Don't really know what that was all about. Don't want to know, either. Trip leaves. Quantum shifts around in his chair some more, trying to get comfortable, then finally gets up. I'm telling you, it's got nothing to do with the chair -- he needs Tuck's Medicated Pads. Quantum hunches over T'Pol with his e-pad and whispers, "How's this sound?" T'Pol gives him a look.