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All I want for Christmas is a good Enterprise episode and I got it! From the writing team that brought us "Dead Stop" no less, Quantum and Qrew run into the perfect storm and all eighty-some of them -- plus Porthos and Phlox's medical pets -- have to hunker down in a closed-quarters catwalk near the toasty warp core. After a few days, the crew gets a bit ripe and ornery but luckily, alien invasion shows up in time to distract them from their petty movie choice and showers snipes. Not realizing that the crew is still alive and sweating in the ship's innards, the SS trooper-types proceed to take over the ship, but Quantum decides it is time for him to do a little heroic furrowing. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
All in all, not bad. Thankfully, the writing team of Sussman and Strong were on board for this ride. If they kept them chained to their desks, feeding them only occasionally for every episode they ink, the franchise would be swimming in gold-pressed latinum. Now, if they could only turn their attention to the insipid dialogue...
Quantum logs that they've found yet another uninhabited planet that they can't wait to slap their American flag on. Yawn. Trip babbles about rafting in some canyon that's bigger than the Grand: "T'Pol says it only gets dark four days a month because of the binary suns. We'll have plenny of daylight left after we're dun workin' ev'ry nihte." "There's a controversial theory that our own star system is also a binary system, and that the name of the other star is 'Nemesis,' a.k.a. 'The Death Star.' They think a potential explanation for the global extinction that happens every twenty-six million years is a result of Nemesis coming by Earth," Mathra tells me. Can you see why I married him? Quantum agrees they should have plenty of time for "R&R" after they finish their surveys of the planet. How can you get adequate R&R on a planet that doesn't get dark and therefore doesn't really allow sleep? More than likely, after this R&R, the qrew will come back to the ship totally exhausted because their circadian rhythms are all messed up. They'll need a vacation from their vacation. T'Pol beeps Quantum with an incoming message from an alien ship. "New planet, new aliens -- banner day," Trip comments. Shut up, Trip. Some aliens come on the sh'pod screen and tell Quantum that, "considering the circumstances," they'd like asylum aboard Enterprise ASAP. Quantum asks them what in heck-fire they're jawing about. "The neutronic wavefront -- it's almost here!" the aliens inform them. Is it neutronic wavefront season already? I don't even have my dilithium tires yet. Trip can't find anything on the sensors, but the aliens tell him they won't be able to detect anything for a few more minutes. Because it's a storm that can travel "at high warp." Mathra moves over to allow for Plot Device and his Feather Boa Of A Natural Phenomenon That Can Travel Faster Than Light to sit down. "Once we're aboard, I suggest you go to warp seven, immediately," the alien bosses. May-Back-In-The-Saddle-Again gives Quantum a concerned look from the sh'pod's pilot seat. "Our top speed is warp five," Quantum admits. Someone's face is red!
Mathra shuffles out from under the couch, crumbs and a broken burnt sienna crayon clinging to him, and asks, "Ears? Out of danger?" I tell him soothingly that the theme song has passed. "I never took the Kobayashi Maru test until now, what do you think of my solution?" Mathra coughs out a few dust bunnies.
T'Pol verifies that they are indeed in danger from the wavefront: "A Vulcan vessel encountered a Class Five over a century ago, the vessel was...nearly destroyed." They only have four hours to batten down the hatches and ride it out, but Reed thinks they can reinforce the hull and structural integrity with no problem. Phlox steps in to inform all and sundry that the qrew will still be in mortal danger from the resulting radiation, so they need another solution: "Sickbay is the most heavily shielded section, it's possible some of the crew could survive there." Quantum calculates that not all eighty-three members could fit in there, and he's not about to draw lots. May-Back-To-The-Future is relieved. You know, I think Scott Bakula's been seeing himself in Feria recently -- his hair looks several shades lighter. Trip looks at some e-blueprints and offers up "the catwalk" as a possible fall-out shelter: "You know, the maintenance shaft, running the length of each nacelle." After some verifying technobabble between Phlox, Trip, and himself, Quantum agrees, and tells T'Pol to take charge of the evacuation. Since the catwalk can reach three hundred degrees when the warp coils are online, it's agreed that the main reactor has to be powered down. Plot Device shows us his new Leaving Yourself Vulnerable To All Manner Of Wacky Hijinks boots -- he got them on sale at The Men's Wearhouse. He likes the way he looks.
Trip susses out the storm shelter with May-Backhanded-Compliment, who says, "Maybe we should open a window!" What a dumb comment from a "boomer." Shut up, May-Baklava. Trip tells him not to get too finicky too soon, what with the rest of the ship's humanity they still have to cram in there. May-Bacteria adds Porthos and Phlox's flora and fauna to the list. Trip asks if May-Backfleet-Boy ever ran into a storm like this before. The Boomer did, and says they had to take shelter in the ship's core for six weeks. Trip's impressed. "Any idea about a latrine?" May-Back-In-Black inquires. Trip hadn't thought of that yet. Don't know why, considering that subject seems to occupy his thoughts an awful lot of the time. Good ol' Malcolm Peed would have thought of it right away. I watched the Firefly pilot tonight, so now I can safely call two spacemen by that name. Trip thinks they can convert some storage lockers for that purpose. As long as he really means "convert" and not just "use." The two outriders walk to the new command central. "This'll be our Bridge," Trip says, shining a flashlight around and talking about fiddling with some panels to re-route all command functions. May-Backside makes a dumb aside about room for a captain's chair. What is the deal with their obsession with Quantum's chair? Trip comments how scary "that storm" must've been for May-Back-To-Basics. "We only got worried when the generators went down. We lost the grav plating, life support -- I'll never forget that look in my father's eyes. He knew we were in trouble," May-Backhand muses. "Why don't YOU have that look in your eyes, Bermaga?" Mathra demands, taking Plot Device's Feather Boa Of A Natural Phenomenon That Can Travel Faster Than Light out of his pint of Wexford's. Trip looks worried.
The aliens wait in Decon. One of them smells a jar of Decon gel and makes a face. Heh. Quantum lets them out and apologizes for making them wait so long in The Room Of Blue Lights Of Totally Gratuitous Nekkidity. Especially since they had to wait with their clothes on. Quantum tries to make buttinski small talk with the aliens, who tell him they're stellar cartographers. "Once we're out of the storm, maybe you could help us update our star charts," Quantum suggests. There's a pause. "We'd be pleased," one of the aliens says, his expression changing not one iota. Phlox leads them off as Quantum smiles benevolently. All three of them are rotund and balding; they kind of remind me of Pakleds, but with a slightly more extensive vocabulary.
Hullabaloo in the corridors as the qrew packs up their troubles with their sleeping bags and tin cups. A few guys grab EV suits from the EV suit closet. Trip calibrates and routes. As The Timpani And Trumpets Of Working Together boom, unnamed qrew stationed in shafts and corridors pass supplies and duffel bags to each other. T'Pol checks on Phlox in Sickbay and notes from his jumble that he's behind schedule. She asks if he needs help. Phlox bitches about not having enough space allotted to him and his prescriptive pets. "Perhaps some of your creatures could share," T'Pol suggests after sighing pensively. "They'll eat each other!" Phlox protests. Hee! That reminds me of the time I was flying from D.C. to Boston and we were in a long take-off queue. After a bit, the Southern Drawlin' Pilot came on to tell us to "relax and try not to bite the person to you." Never laughed so hard on a plane in my life. "They're vital to my work and to the health of the crew!" Phlox pleads, not looking T'Pol in the eye. "I'm not accustomed to making emotional appeals -- please, don't ask me to choose between them." T'Pol allows him five more cubic meters. "My Edosian slugs thank you," Phlox tells her, turning away. T'Pol does a double-take as though she's not sure if he's joking or not.
Catwalk. On the catwalk, yeah. Trip guides their alien guests to their cubic meters and tells them he'll be nearby if they need anything. The aliens settle in, and one hisses, "I don't know the first thing about stellar cartography -- what if they begin to ask questions?!" Hmm -- I guess there's more than meets the eye to these aliens, and I'm not just talking about their sensitive ponytails.
Quantum's Ready Room. Quantum packs. He walks over to his Weight Of The World Window and stares out at the lavender streaks -- the harbingers of Plot Device's Feather Boa Af A Natural Phenomenon That Can Travel Faster Than Light. T'Pol joins him at the WOTWW to discuss business. Quantum comments that he didn't expect the storm to be so beautiful, and he's sorry they don't have time to put their lives in danger in order to scan it. How can you see Plot Device's Feather Boa Of A Natural Phenomenon That Can Travel Faster Than Light if it travels faster than light? Anyone have a spare grain of salt I can take? I'm fresh out. T'Pol points out the obvious by telling him that while they're in the belly of the beast, they'll certainly have more than enough time to scan as much as he wants. Quantum confesses that he's jumpy about shutting down the power grid, and T'Pol reminds him of what mayhem could ensue if they don't. Take it from me, it's a lot of mayhem. "I did a little research in the Vulcan database -- that Class Five storm a century ago? It involved the starship T'Plana [Gesundheit!]. Apparently, they couldn't outrun the wavefront, it was lost with all hands," Quantum needles. T'Pol doesn't say anything, and her lips look more than usually huge and glistening in this shot. "I thought you said it was 'nearly destroyed,'" Quantum presses. T'Pol turns to look him in the eye and says she must've remembered incorrectly. "'You lied!' 'I exaggerated,'" Mathra babbles to himself. I think he needs to watch more Pier 1 commercials in order to improve his Kirstie Alley impersonation.
Bridge. T'Pol, Quantum, and Reed route all Bridge functions down to Trip and May-Backlash on The I'm Too Sexy For The Catwalk. "We're in the driver's seat!" Trip announces. Shut up, Trip. "Let's close up shop," Quantum tells Reed. Shut up, Quantum. This storyline might be better than the last few episodes, but the dialogue still sucks the hokey-pokey and that's what it's all about! Lights go out all over the ship, and the emergency power -- and Decon-reminiscent -- blue-light specials come on. Hope Chef didn't have any milk in the fridge. Reed and T'Pol leave the Bridge to allow Quantum to be alone for a moment as he makes a great pretense of silently saying, not goodbye, but au revoir, to his Bridge. Shut UP, Quantum!
Outer space. The Feather Boa Of A Natural Phenomenon That Can Travel Faster Than Light is snapping at the ship's heels as it runs across the ice floes to escape Simon Legree's whip. Quantum and T'Pol join Trip and May-Backwash on the Desert Storm Bridge, and Quantum asks about a headcount. Trip says everyone's accounted for, "including one quadruped." Shot of Porthos. Awwww! "Wuldja like to try out the Cap'n's chair?" Trip asks, gesturing at a canister and some oddly fisherman-like netting. Where's the cup holder? Quantum tousles Porthos's ears before nervously asking where the comm is. Nice one -- good to see he seems to have his priorities in order for this episode. And now comes the pep talk. There's a notable absence of gazelle references -- which, of course, means absolutely nothing to me -- as he promises the whole qrew that they're going to make it after all. Are captains allowed to lie outright like that? Quantum paces as much as he can in the cramped Desert Storm Bridge -- just sit down already, you're taking up everyone else's oxygen! -- and asks how much time before Feather Boa Harry hits. "One minute, five seconds," T'Pol reports. To be insanely precise. Quantum gives hull polarizing orders -- shouldn't that have been done already?
Outer space shot. It looks as though Enterprise makes a right turn directly into Feather Boa Harry. Strange. I thought the storm was coming from behind them in the last CGI shot. I guess they figure that heading straight into the storm will actually minimize the time they have to spend in it. Dialogue to that effect would have been appreciated -- not all of us have geek husbands explaining the finer points of stuff like that.
T'Pol continues the countdown, and the ship starts to shake, rattle, but not yet roll. More of T'Pol's counting. Porthos looks nervous. At ten seconds, Quantum comms, "All hands, brace for impact." Of course, all I can think of is Airplane!, when the passengers are told to get into "crash positions" and they fling themselves about the cabin with one of the Hare Krishnas draped over a seat making choking noises. Porthos retreats somewhere. Okay, that did piss me off. As much as I hate putting my cats in carriers, Porthos should be in a padded carrier that is strapped in somewhere to prevent his little body from being thrown around the ship! It's like when people allow their cats to walk freely around their cars. If they got into an accident, those animals wouldn't fly through the windshield because their bodies are too light. Instead, they would smash against it at a velocity of at least thirty-five miles per hour, because there is absolutely nothing they can do to brace themselves! I hate stupid people who endanger their pets with their stupidity. Feather Boa Of A Natural Phenomenon That Can Travel Faster Than Light, a.k.a. Feather Boa Harry, hits the ship. Some dumb qrewmember, who didn't listen to his captain telling him to brace for impact, stumbles down the catwalk. May-Backbend technobabbles a problem, and Trip tells him to try, try again. More tossing and turning. Finally, the ship seems to have climbed above the turbulence, and the seatbelt sign is turned off for the moment. An unhurt Porthos sticks his head out. I want that dog, now!
Sashaying down the catwalk, Quantum shows off the newest winter wear from Calvin Klingon and investigates the ranks. More turbulence. It's like riding the Turn-Me-Green Line to the MFA! He leans down to pick up an e-pad. "Yours?" he gestures at some random qrew-chick, who nods. Quantum looks down at the pad. Rude! What if it was her diary? "Looks like you're almost finished," Quantum comments, and hands the e-pad back. The qrew-chick steps forward to take it and asks tremulously, "You wouldn't know who was the first Vulcan ambassador to Earth? Six letters, ends with an 'R'?" Dude, she sounds like she's twelve. "Solkar, I think," Quantum tells her kindly. You'd think someone serving on the first warp five starship, who went through Starfleet training, would know that little factoid. "Thank you, Captain," Ensign Pre-Pubescent trembles in the presence of his greatness. "Don't mention it," Quantum assures her with gentle sternness. Having fulfilled his duty of speaking to one unknown qrewmember a day, Quantum checks on Hoshi, who is studiously brushing her teeth with a blue light. Question: Why are all the lights on this ship blue? Blue lights in the Decon chamber, blue emergency lights, and now blue-lit Aquafresh. Which, factually speaking, really should be a twist of green, white, and red. And now that you mention it, my mom's got a whole drawerful of spare Christmas bulbs if they need them. Hoshi sighs and pays some lip service to her purported claustrophobia just so that Continuity can wet his pants. "Your quarters will probably feel like a ballroom after this," Quantum yuks, apparently making a shout-out to the fact that Linda Park is a sometime ballroom dancer. The ship shakes again. "You're the Captain, can't you just order the storm to calm down a little?" Hoshi asks. Hoshi, he's the captain, he's not God -- because really, what would God need with a starship? Seriously, though, Linda Park must've choked on bile when she uttered that Worst. Line. Ever. Quantum says he'll see what he can do and moves along down the catwalk. He pauses briefly at an area hung with blankets, but doesn't bother to knock to inquire if they've accepted Jesus Christ as their Savior. Since Trip is playing cards with some random qrew, Quantum decides to stop there for a good little gossip instead. He nods to the blankets and asks how Trip is faring with their guests. All Trip knows is that one of them came out and asked them to stop making so much noise. "Now, I've bin reel friendly -- even asked them to join the game. Duzzint seem lak they wunna hev ennythang to do with us," Trip finishes. Yeees, I think I understood all that. Quantum requests that Trip give them time to adjust. Trip agrees and laments the loss of the camping trip on the planet with way too much daylight.
Storm Sickbay. Reed wanders by, looking a little green around the edges. Phlox asks what's troubling him. Reed ducks under the handrails into the "examination room" and fusters about doctor-patient confidentiality. Phlox asks him if he's having gastrointestinal "distress." "Is it that obvious?" Reed asks. Phlox alludes to a note in Reed's medical file about "an unfortunate incident during zero-g training." Reed makes a long-past-its-freshness-date crack about "the Vomitorium," and Phlox gives him a Dramamine hypospray, assuring him it will last for twelve hours. Reed seems to feel the effects immediately, and thanks him. "Feeling all right, Malcolm?" Quantum asks, creepily appearing as if from nowhere. Reed jumps back on the catwalk and assures him, "Never better!" He minces off, but when the ship shakes, he makes a nauseous face. I hope lis lays in a good supply of airsickness bags. And rubber sheets. Quantum turns an inquiring face to Phlox, who tells him that the qrew are just reporting some bumps and bruises from the turbulence. Nothing more. Quantum checks to make sure Phlox has enough room, and says he could see about moving some stuff to the aft section. "Nonsense!" Phlox protests. "I have plenty of room. I find the close quarters rather comforting -- it reminds me of home." "I didn't realize space was at a premium on Denobula," Quantum comments. "Twelve billion people sharing a continent," Phlox shrugs. Quantum tells Phlox to let him know if he has a change of heart.
They all have their issues, don't they? Reed has problems with bodily functions, Hoshi is claustrophobic and jumpy, Quantum has a Perma-Furrow, May-Backwash disappears, and Trip has brain damage.
Desert Storm Bridge. Porthos is curled up on a blanket near a pillow. Quantum checks in with May-Backrub and tells him to wake him if there are any issues. Quantum then sighs heavily and lays himself down on the floor. He plays with Porthos a bit before picking up an e-pad with Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on it and starts to read. At least, that's what I want to believe, because I don't face the reality -- namely that the writers HAD to have him watching ANOTHER FRICKIN' WATER POLO MATCH! Didn't they read my last rant about the facets these characters have? In that they don't have ANY? Quantum makes spectator noises, primarily so that T'Pol -- who's near enough to smell him -- can make annoyed faces. I'm with you on this one, sister. Finally, Quantum looks up and asks if he's bothering her. "Only slightly," she responds, beeping away at her e-pad. Quantum turns off his sport and lies down with his hand over his eyes, as T'Pol continues to beep on her e-pad. Sooner or later, she looks over to see Quantum staring at her. "Am I disturbing you?" she asks. "Only slightly," Quantum smiles. Has no one heard of headphones in this century? T'Pol's would look pretty cool, though -- all pointy and stuff.
T'Pol puts her homework away and lies down. Doesn't she want to meditate first? "You know, there's a bright side to all of this," Quantum pillow-talks. "Reaaaally?" T'Pol drawls oddly. Quantum believes it's bringing the qrew closer together: "If you forget about the storm outside, it's almost like going on a camping trip." Sure -- if camping trips were on ships. In space. With warp engines. And not in the great outdoors. "Perhaps we can sing some songs later," T'Pol snarks. Like Row, Row, Row Your Boat? "Haven't you ever gone camping?" Quantum asks. Did her comment about singing give her away, because it seemed right on par with what he was talking about. T'Pol tells him she's been camping "in a manner of speaking." "I once participated in the kahswan ritual. I was taken to the dessert and left to survive for ten days," T'Pol reminisces. "Sounds fun," Quantum sarcasms. What are you passing judgment about, Mr. I Went To Australia With Trip For My Survival Training And Feel The Compelling Need To Have It Mentioned Every Other Episode? Quantum puts on his Overbearing Nightcap as he advises T'Pol to wander around and get to know the rest of the qrew. T'Pol sniffs that she's familiar with all their names, but Quantum thinks she needs to get friendlier than that. "It'd be good for you to fraternize a little," Quantum pushes. "Is that an order?" T'Pol wonders. "Does it have to be?" Quantum shoots back. Can this stop? "I'm not skilled at 'fraternizing,'" T'Pol confides, turning over to face him. Maybe he can tutor you in the art of fraternization. Quantum turns more on his pillow so he can be on a level with T'Pol's eyes. Um, I was kidding with that tutoring comment. "Here's your chance to learn," Quantum tells her. T'Pol turns away.
Trip plays cards with Reed, Hoshi, and May-Backup. They're bidding with their freeze-dried packs of desserts, and since Reed "sees" someone's strawberry shortcake and "raises one pineapple cobbler," Continuity has another reason to do the pee-pee dance. And lose. Hoshi throws in a broccoli because she's out of desserts, May-Backless-Dress calls, and Reed loosens his collar, sighing about needing to take a shower. "When this hand's over, maybe you can look into building one," he says, half-jokingly, to Trip. Trip glares at him and says, "Would you like a sauna while I'm at it?" May-Bacchanalia sniggers. Reed gets annoyed and says, "You knew we'd be stuck in here for over a week -- you might've given a little thought to making it tolerable!" Trip: "I only had four hours, Malcolm, you're lucky we've got a toilet." Trip should know that, of all people, Malcolm Reed does not have a problem with alternative places to pee. Although, seriously -- shut up, Malcolm. Reed: "Well, I obviously overestimated your people's abilities when it comes to indoor plumbing." Trip: "You wanna take a shower? Build one yerself!" Okay, when I first watched this, I could've sworn Trip said, "Go on yourself," and I was about to go crazy with shout-outs, water games, and god knows what other hysteria, but no.
Someone clad completely in white -- whose face we can't see because it's obscured by an overhang -- hands over some TV dinners. "Thanks, Chef," Hoshi says pointedly. Ah. So Chef is falling into the category of Home Improvement's -door neighbor Wilson and Niles's wife Maris. How original. And by "original," I mean "done to death with a repetitive shtick five times over." I know nelamm told me naval chefs do wear all white -- instead of the usual whites and checks -- but I'm still going to point out that Wolfgang Puck did a Thanksgiving show on a carrier docked in New York's harbor, and their executive chef wore a white jacket and checks. In this light, Chef looks like a Good Humor Man from the 1950s. Those white shoes aren't doing him any favors either. "Ach! Come on, pot roast? That's the third time in three days!" Reed whines, and then gasps because he burns his hands on his tray. Hee. Also, shut up, Malcolm. May-Back-Me-On-This-One asks what movie is being shown that night. "Something exclusively Paramount, I'd guess," Mathra comments. "The Day the Earth Stood Still," Trip tells him. ["Close. 20th Century Fox." -- Sars] Hoshi rolls her eyes while Reed stuffs the complaint box some more. "We're having movie night in here?" he whinges. Trip starts to patiently explains the area they set up to allow movies on a small screen, but Hoshi interrupts him to ask who the hell is picking these movies and shouldn't they all get a vote. I don't think the ship is necessarily a democracy -- more of a benevolent furrowership. Trip pinches the bridge of his nose as though he's got a headache, and May-Backdraft senses that something is burning. Trip looks around and realizes there's smoke coming from the aliens' tent. Apparently, they decided to make their own grub, since they can't "digest" the human food. Is that why all the storage lockers are backed up? I can't help it -- they just hand me the bathroom humor on a platter! Their stuff is simmering on a hot plate. Hee -- aliens have hot plates. I wonder if they have crockpots too. Trip gets all mad, yelling that they're "sittin' on top uv a plasma manifold." I guess that's not as good as the dock of the bay, or the top of the world looking down on creation. The ship shakes and bakes, and Quantum calls Trip to the Desert Storm Bridge. Trip leaves, assuring the aliens that he'll talk to Chef, and thrusts the hot plate of alien hash at a grimacing Reed.
Storm Bridge. Something's wrong with the technobabble, so Trip runs some scans. While the scans are doing their thing, Trip treats Quantum and T'Pol to a little rant about the aliens. Along with the complaint about their impromptu targbeque, Trip adds, "They only need to sleep once a week, so they've kept us up the past two nights with their strange rituals: chantin', walkin' in circles!" You know, Mathra does that all the time. I never thought it was an alien ritual -- I just thought it was math. Quantum reminds him that the aliens warned them about the storm, so they owe them. The scans finish, and Trip discovers that someone has to go back into the ship and fix a few crucial technobabbles. Obviously, that someone has to be him. Trip rolls his eyes. If I were him, I'd leap, cavort, and tra-la-la at the opportunity to get out of the stanky, stuffy catwalk area and stroll around the empty ship. True, he has to wear an EV suit to protect him from all that deadly radiation, but at least he won't have Malcolm whining in his ear about the fact that he didn't get a chance to pack his favorite lip liner. Phlox tells us that Trip's EV suit will only protect him for twenty-two minutes, so Quantum advises, "It would be best not to take the scenic route." It would be best to hire new scriptwriters.
Trip walks around the dark ship. He does a few things, then suddenly looks around. My captioning tells me there are footsteps, but between the clanging music and the racket Trip was making, I couldn't hear them at all. Trip hides in a corner and switches off his EV suit's miner lamp. A few aliens -- not wearing protective gear -- scamper around the ship and fiddle with things.
Trip sneaks off to a room with a view and looks out a window. Through Feather Boa Harry, Trip (and we) can see a small, pointy-winged ship attached to Enterprise. Marvelous control those fellows must have to dock onto a buffeting ship in the middle of a Class Five Feather Boa Of A Natural Phenomenon That Can Travel Faster Than Light, with no directional help from the much larger ship. At a console, Trip calls up a visual of the Bridge and sees more aliens walking around doing things. An extreme close-up reveals the aliens to be -- at least on the surface -- the same race as the Neo-Pakled targbequeing aliens they are harboring. And when I say "race," I mean that all these aliens have to define them as "aliens" is a slight puckering of the skin below the eye sockets. Trip makes a resolute face and storms off.
Darkened Ready Room. One of the Storm Trooper aliens runs through Enterprise's qrew's profiles. Very unfortunate pictures of Quantum, T'Pol, and Reed flash by. Another Storm Trooper Alien enters and reports that he can find no sign of "the fugitives" or of the human qrew. "These humans," Head Storm Trooper Alien sneers. "They've traveled over a hundred light years from their homeworld." He presses a button and listens to a few of Quantum's Dear Diaries. Head Storm Trooper thinks that "Archer and his qrew must've taken refuge in a nearby system -- they may intend to return." Some technobabble goes back and forth between Head Storm Trooper and his subordinate, but it's clear that they intend to hijack the ship. Head Storm Trooper continues to read Quantum's Live Journal.
Catwalk. Phlox examines the refugee targbequeing aliens and determines that they are immune to the effects of the storm. "Funny, you dinnit mention that," Trip sarcasms. The aliens tell them that their ship is "less durable" than Enterprise and would have been destroyed by the storm, so they really did need their help. Quantum pauses for a moment before turning suddenly on the aliens and demanding, "Who are they? What are they doing here?" The aliens play dumb. Quantum: "They just happen to find Enterprise in the middle of a Class Five neutronic storm where three members of their own species just happen to be taking refuge?" I get the feeling Quantum doesn't think this whole thing is entirely coincidental. One of the refugee aliens finally admits that the Storm Troopers are officers of the Takret Militia, who have been pursuing them for weeks. Well, that's what happens when you make out with them one night and then refuse to return their calls, pages, and emails. The refugee aliens used to be a part of this militia, but they took issue with the fact that the militia is a corrupt institution that seizes alien vessels, murders the crews, and strips the ships of all their valuables. They're awfully picky about the militias they choose to join. The refugee aliens tried to resign their commissions, but the Storm Troopers turned a deaf ear. "You're deserters," Quantum says in his best Steve McQueen tone. The aliens profess to having had no other choice; they would've told the truth, but they weren't sure Quantum would help them. "If they find us, we'll be executed," one of the aliens wimps.
Another refugee alien steps up and says, "Captain, I apologize for the difficult position we've put you in but I know these men. Even if they found us, I doubt they'd simply leave. They've captured vessels far less impressive than yours!" Oh, that stings. Quantum stares at him, and Reed informs him that the Storm Troopers are trying to start up the engines: "It seems to me they've already decided to help themselves to Enterprise." T'Pol points out that the Storm Troopers obviously don't know where the qrewmembers are, and if they're discovered, the qrew will not be safe as houses, apartments, or even lean-tos. "What're you suggestin'? That we jest sit on our hands until they fire up the injins?" Trip asks. "You're assuming these three are telling the truth," Quantum responds. "They've already lied to us." Refugee Alien: "We're not lying." Oh, you aren't? Well, okay then. Glad we cleared that up. The ship pitches again as Refugee Alien reminds Quantum, "These men are dangerous." I'll say this much for Quantum -- at least he's learned not to blindly trust any puckery-faced alien that comes whining onto his spacedock with a sob story of tyranny, abuse, and general discomfort.
Engineering. The Storm Troopers fiddle with systems and are ready to initialize the warp reactor. On the Bridge, Head Storm Trooper asks if they have helm control yet. His technician answers in the negative; he thinks the navigational relays have been rerouted. "How much longer?" Head Storm Trooper demands. The technician has no idea, so Head Storm Trooper orders the warp core brought online.
Catwalk. T'Pol tells Quantum that they may outnumber the Storm Troopers, but they only have three EV suits. That was stupider than George The Stupid playing stupid games with his cousin, the village idiot! Why on earth would they have left with fewer EV suits than senior bridge qrewmembers -- much less EV suits for every qrewmember? What if those copper suits were needed for added protection if there was a hull breach from the storm or something? Plot Device clears his throat to remind me that he's still in the room. Oh, right. As Quantum discusses the issues, the lights above them flash to signal that the warp core is warming up. Trip says they have twenty minutes before the coils are fully charged. They rush off to form a cunning plan.
T'Pol, Reed, and Quantum suit up in EV suits as Trip gives them directions. "I really oughta be the wun doin' this, Cap'n. The doc said I was only out there for thirteen minutes," Trip wheedles. Quantum shuts him down as he adjusts T'Pol's visor, and Hoshi reports that she's isolated their comm frequencies so that the Storm Troopers won't hear a thing. Quantum orders Hoshi to tell May-Backfire to wait for his signal.
The Storm Trooper aliens continue to try for helm control, and I realize that the second-in-command Storm Trooper looks a lot like Lt. Rowcliff from Nero Wolfe. I miss that show -- stupid A&E. Storm Trooper Rowcliff tells Head Storm Trooper that they could lose their ship if they continue to diddle around, "We should take what we can and leave!" Head Storm Trooper is too greedy to agree to that.
Quantum, T'Pol, and Reed split up. "I'll see you back at the catwalk -- don't be late!" Quantum orders. Quantum runs though the galley and opens up a comm center. In a corridor, T'Pol and Reed open up an access panel. From the Storm Bridge, Trip gives Reed and T'Pol instructions.
Bridge. Storm Trooper Rowcliff announces that they're being hailed. "Another ship?" Head Storm Trooper barks. Storm Trooper Rowcliff determines that the transmission is coming from within the ship. Eerie music that only I can hear plays. "Answer it!" Head Storm Trooper orders. Quantum's EV-suited face comes onto the viewscreen. "You're in my chair!" he groans. "Captain Archer -- I didn't realize you're still aboard. Where's the rest of your crew?" Head Storm Trooper asks calmly. Quantum tells him they're all dead, Head Storm Trooper says insincerely that he's sorry, and Quantum thanks him for his condolences. Also insincerely. "Now, why don't you get the hell off my ship," Quantum grunts. I guess all this constipation he's smearing across the screen is to make the Storm Trooper Aliens think he's close to death. And you know what? It's working -- I sure wish he were dead in this scene. Head Storm Trooper tells him that's a no-can-do, because they found the ship belonging to the fugitives in their launchbay. Busted. Quantum moans that he's been watching them; he knows they're trying to take Enterprise and he's just not going to let that happen. Not on his watch. "You're in no position to do anything about it," Head Storm Trooper tells him. Head Storm Trooper informs him that he's in command of the Bridge, he's impounding the ship under the authority of the Takret militia, and Quantum will be charged with some conspiracy theory when they get home. AND Quantum has to go to bed without any supper. Quantum strains that he doesn't recognize their authority, and that he has standing orders from Starfleet to use whatever means necessary to keep his vessel out of grimy enemy hands. I have a standing order with Starfleet for Peking ravioli every other Tuesday. Head Storm Trooper growls that he has people searching all decks and Quantum will soon be apprehended. "You're leaving me [pant, pant] no choice. I'll destroy Enterprise," Quantum grunts. Well, now let me double-check with UPN, but I think Bermaga's done that already. "Earth's first warp five starship? Your father's engine? I've been reading about you, Captain. I doubt very much you'll do anything to damage this vessel," Head Storm Trooper gloats. "You'd be surprised," Quantum grunts, and hangs up. Head Storm Trooper orders an underling to trace the signal and beat the bushes until they find Quantum.
Desert Storm Bridge. Quantum beeps in and tells May-Backslide to head for a plasma eddy. "Try to keep us in one piece -- I'm on my way back," Quantum finishes. As he walks back through the galley, a few Storm Troopers fire at him. Quantum fires back. There goes Chef's Reman endive.
On the Bridge, the Storm Troopers wonder irritably about the course change.
Reed and T'Pol report back that they're having problems shutting down the reactor. "I don' mean t'rush yew, but it's gettin' pretty warm in here," Trip tells them. You're from Florida -- deal with it.
More firefighting in the galley, and there go the Vidalia onions.
Bridge. The aliens discover that Quantum is steering them into a plasma eddy, and they have less than eight minutes to do something about it. Since they still don't have helm control, Storm Trooper Rowcliff thinks they should evacuate, but Head Storm Trooper is very much against that.
Trip and May-Backwater sweat it out on the Storm Bridge, and Trip asks how Reed and T'Pol are getting along saving everyone from getting severe tans. T'Pol reports that they're disabling the final sequencer. The warp core shuts down.
Bridge. Storm Trooper Rowcliff reports this latest snag, and another Storm Trooper reports they're four minutes from the plasma eddy.
Galley. A LeCruset pan falls on Quantum's head. Good thing his furrows protected him.
At long last, Head Storm Trooper orders all his men to abandon the mission.
Desert Storm Bridge. T'Pol and Reed return. "We're too close to the eddy," May-Backward tells the Subcommander, "we've got to veer off." T'Pol orders him to maintain his course. The alien ship undocks from Enterprise and flies away. The ship retches. "Another one like that could split us in two," Trip gripes. "They could still be on board," T'Pol tells him. May-Backbone complains again about the danger, death, and destruction. "Maintain your course -- that's an order!" T'Pol orders. Quantum beeps wryly in to say, "Travis, I hope you're not still heading for that eddy. Our friends are gone." You're annoying. "Ensign," is all T'Pol says. May-Backula steers them out of danger and gets a relieved shoulder grip from Malcolm. Aw, that was a nice moment there.
Quantum logs that they are nearly free of Feather Boa Harry: "The crew's in relatively good spirits considering they haven't had a change of uniform in eight days." Does T'Pol even have a change of uniform? Does she have a dozen of those industrial carpet catsuits hanging in her closet? As Quantum logs this, we get a shot of the qrew all gathered in one place, watching a western. Even T'Pol's there. As they watch, Trip mutters to Malcolm, "Did that guy jest shoot his own men?" "It's hard to tell them apart in those ridiculous hats," Reed recaps. "The dead man was secretly working for Sheriff Boggs," T'Pol informs them. Reed and Trip squint at her. "Isn't it obvious?" T'Pol wonders. I liked the way she delivered that line -- as if she were sincerely asking if no one else noticed how obvious the plot was. Not at all as though she were trying to be supercilious. Seriously. I'm really being sincere. Reed and Trip shrug in wonder. Quantum beeps in to tell everyone that they can go back to their quarters in a few minutes. After his lecture to T'Pol about fraternizing with the rest of the qrew, he's too good to watch a movie with them? The qrew applauds, cheers, and goes to pack up their sweat and dirt. "Glad yew culd join us, Subcommander. We have movie night ev'ry Tuesday if yer innerested," Trip invites her. That's a coincidence -- we usually have Pull Your Hair Out Night every Wednesday. If yer innerested. If T'Pol goes, I'm willing to bet Trip fakes a stretch so he can put his arm around her.
Enterprise sails free of the storm, and everyone returns to their quarters. The fugitive aliens apologize for all the trouble they caused, and Quantum wishes them luck on their trip to a safe planet. Where they lisp and wear strange shirts. T'Pol comes out of the catwalk and tells Quantum that everyone's out. Quantum closes the door. Quantum and T'Pol silently head back to their cabins together. I'm left here wondering what will happen to those storage lockers that were converted into latrines. What do they do with them now? Can they even be reconverted? You sort of hope that being turned into a public head is the last thing to ever happen to a box.