#88, 'Favor the Bold' & 'Sacrifice of Angels,' Deep Space Nine, Season Six, Episodes 5 & 6

I seem to remember the retaking of Deep Space Nine in Favor the Bold and Sacrifice of Angels as being a big moment in the mythology of the show. When Sisko takes back Deep Space Nine from the enemy. We're deep into a war with the Dominion, and the Federation is losing. Losing territory and ships to a vastly superior opposing force, they're outgunned, outnumbered, and falling into a pattern of attack and retreat.

Lives have been lost. Morale is low. And Sisko has decided it's time for some let's-blow-the-shit-out-of-something-big action. A go-for-broke plan that will strike the heart of the Dominion and provide the Federation with a much needed victory. They have to force a victory, or lose the war. He puts together a task force to take back his former command, Deep Space Nine.

Sone where in this armada, I like to think Picard is making it so.

As I re-watched these, I came to realize that this two-episode arc represent the best and the worst of what Deep Space Nine was. As if they are a microcosm of the series as a whole. The episodes are wildly uneven, oscillating between good and bad almost from scene to scene. Deep Space Nine is a show I like (a lot), but I have to admit that there are some elements that just never clicked for me.

On the one hand, we have Avery Brooks, who, once again, rocks it like a boss. Sisko's a man with his back against the wall, making the hard decisions. He's passionate. Earnest. Bold. And takes zero shit from zero people, aliens, or cosmic beings from another reality.

The Dominion are (with exceptions noted below) the perfect villains for the series. I'd described them in a previous post as a totalitarian anti-Federation. They're everything the Federation isn't. They seek conquest, not exploration. Jeffery Combs' Weyoun is fantastic. The show takes chances, swinging for the fences. When they decided to make the major through line of the show the Dominion War, they went for it. Throughout the series, Deep Space Nine has presented space combat on a scale not seen since the Battle of Endor, and it did it on television. Repeatedly. Certainly not on a scale seen in any other iteration of Trek.

We have great character moments. Miles and Julian bonding. Quark setting aside his self-interest for the greater good. Even Rom shines in a rare instance of not being completely annoying. Also, Worf son of Mogh. 'Nuff said.

And then, on the other end of the spectrum (for the record, the bad one), we have the prophets calling Ben "The Sisko." We have the character known only as Female Changeling, who apparently cannot have a line without saying the words 'solids' or 'great link.' We have Odo's, ugh, love affair with Major Kira, which has always felt forced and awkward. We have the logic problems of both the Bajoran gods and the Dominion changeling rules. And, then, we have Gul Dukat.

Gul Du-fucking-kat.

I swear I got eye strain from rolling them too much every time Gul Dukat was on the screen. I loathe him, but not in the way I'm meant to. He's smarmy, arrogant, self-agrandizing, and speaks with with an almost operatic rhythm — where every sentence builds in volume and intensity and is then followed by a soft coda. Once I identified this, it drove me absolutely mad. Dukat is, perhaps, the Star Trek villain with the most screen time of any other. In fairness, I didn't do any kind of quantitative analysis on that, I'm just going by memory. But holy crap is there a lot of Dukat on this show.

"Was it something I said?" -- Gul Dukat. "Pretty much everything you've ever said, ever, yes." — Me

Over the course of the series, he's been portrayed as a cold-blooded mass murderer, a misunderstood tyrant, a crazy person, a patriot, revolutionary, a cult leader, a messiah, and a vessel to evil gods. And every time he's on the screen, I'm just checking my watch until he's done being terrible. He grates me. He's mustache-twirly terrible. He stands out as cartoonishly broad and over-the-top in a show with alien forehead makeup and spaceships going kler-splode. That says something. He strives to have the gravitas to be Sisko's equal, and the failure at that is palpable. But, they keep using him. And his use keeps giving me eye strain. Ow.

However, the worst part of this particular Niner adventure is that it ends with the most blatant (and literal) deus ex machina you could possibly imagine. Sisko's bold plan has failed. The Federation strike force is unable to break the Dominion lines, except for one line ship, the Defiant. The minefield that has kept the Dominion re-enforcements at bay is taken down. Sisko and the crew of the Defiant sail into the worm hole to face off against two-thousand-plus Jem'Hadar warships alone. Their sailing into their deaths in a hollow sacrifice. They don't even say anythig like, 'we're going to technobabble the warp core and collapse the wormhole so that the Jam'Hadar can't get through and save the alpha quadrant with our noble sacrifice!' Instead, they lock phasers, and calmly accept their own deaths at the hands of alien weapony. Then, the Bajoran Prophets pull Sisko out of his reality and into their temporal dream state.

The interaction with the Bajoran Prophets is just painful. They seem to interrupt the action for the sake of interrupting. Call Sisko "the Sisko" for no apparent reason other than to just annoy me. They ramble about a 'game,' which I infer to mean the writers aren't sure what to do with these alien beings in the long term. They are dismissive of Sisko's needs until he makes an old-fashioned empassioned speech. Sisko begs them for a miracle, and they provide it. The Dominion fleet vanishes from Existence, and the Defiant returns to Deep Space Nine. Sisko and crew return the triumpant heroes to the Station, and the war goes on.

For both good and ill.

---

Next up, it's a trip to the continuum with Déjà Q.

#89, Court Martial, The Original Series, Season 1, Episode 20

As we break into the 80s of the Top 100 Trek Episodes of all time, we have our second entry from the original crew. (Well, the second original crew, not counting Pike, Number One, and the rest of the Enterprise crew from The Cage.)

I'd mentioned before how Trek likes to explore different storytelling techniques. And in 'Court Martial,' we have a courtroom drama set in the world of the Federation. Here Kirk is put on trial for negligence of duty when  crewman dies during a crisis.

"How can anyone who looks this good be guilty of anything? I mean, seriously!" — James Kirk

If this episode is any indication, the Judge Advocate General's office is really, really messed up. I will call a lot of shenanigans on space law in a bit, but first I want to share something.

I have a theory on Captain James Tiberius Kirk. I don't really expect anyone to subscribe to its lunacy, but it helps me make sense of the character. I don't think he believes he's ready for command. I believe his arrogance and overconfidence is a mask for his insecurities. He understands the weight of the responsibilities of his position. He understands that he holds the lives of hundred under his direct command, and that it's his moral compass that must guide his decisions that may affect the lives of the countless billions within the Federation. At this time, Starfleet is still exploring the quadrant. They've met countless enemies and godlike beings so advanced as to appear magical. And Kirk has faced them all with a wink and a nod and not a shred of doubt in what he's doing is right.

That doesn't mean I don't think he's ready for the job. He is. He's clearly smart, capable, decisive, talented, eloquent, and more than willing to throw a haymaker when necessary. But I think his unwavering bravado is a facade to mask his self-doubt. It's his first command. He's in uncharted territories both physically and emotionally for him. Why do I believe that? Well, I'm glad you asked.

Kirk is presented as a paragon, the best of what humanity has to offer. But I cannot accept that Kirk truly believes himself to be that man. The counter-argument to that, is that Kirk is a human being. I choose to believe that it's all an act. That he's choosing to put on this larger-than-life persona as a means to deal with his responsibility. He has to charge forth into the vast unknown and face it with out a moment's hesitation. He always has to be right. Not because of his ego, but because it's what's demanded of him in his position as captain of the Enterprise.

Otherwise, he's a completely arrogant, irredeemable asshole, and not a flawed man doing the best he can in fantastic circumstances, under extraordinary pressure, and the responsibility of the most advanced military weapon mankind has yet to build. I choose to believe that Kirk is far more complex that the aforementioned paragon of humanity. Because, if this isn't the case, he's boring. And I cannot stand being bored.

In 'Court Martial,' when Kirk is accused of his crime, negligence of duty, Kirk just can't process it. He stands firm on his story, the ship was on red alert during an ion storm, and he had to make the tough call of jettisoning a crewman in order to save the ship. The man, Finney, Kirk supposedly killed was someone with whom he'd had a history. Kirk, as a junior officer, derailed this man's career, and wound up commanding the Enterprise instead. With their former friendship dissolved, Kirk is accused of deliberately murdering the man for... Eh, the logic of it doesn't really track, so I'm going to stop while I'm ahead here instead of trying to explain it. The computer records counter his story, and computer records are never, ever wrong.

Kirk supposedly killed a man by giving him a middle finger.

Rather than take a desk job and have his mistake quietly swept under the rug, Kirk reacts the way a cornered animal would react. He fights back. Viciously. To a fault. It's inconceivable to him that he could be in error. That his memory of the act was incorrect. That his actions in a crisis were at fault. That he, James Mother-Effing Tiberius Kirk, could ever, ever, ever make a mistake or be wrong. He immediately challenges his superior officer, and demands a trial before he's seen the evidence, or even takes a beat to consider the consequences of his actions. The Commodore is taken aback, and gives Kirk exactly what he asks for, a general Court Martial to see if his actions were criminal.

When Spock and McCoy are called to the stand to testify, both hold Kirk up to that paragon standard to which they hold him. Spock believes the computer to be in error solely because it is illogical for Kirk to have make a mistake. McCoy testifies that Kirk is so far removed from human psychology that the animosity Finney had for Kirk would have no effect on his decision making. The Commodore who puts Kirk on trial opens the story with how one-in-a-million special starship captains are, and how Kirk is the best of the best of them. Even Finney's daughter, who screamed bloody murder at the site of Kirk earlier in the episode comes to understand that Kirk is just... that... damned... awesome at being better than everyone else.

Here's where I shift gears a bit and call space shenanigans on the Starfleet legal system. First, the prosecution in the case, Lt. Shaw, is an ex-lover of Kirks. While it adds dramatic tension, it's clearly a conflict of interest and she should have immediately recused herself from the case. Secondly, his attorney is a straight-up crackpot. An eccentric that believes that computers are terrible and that books are the way to go. Because you can't read the original law from a computer. Which, from a 21st century viewing perspective is just batshit insane. Kirk is amused by the man's eccentricity, but should have instead immediately asked for someone not crazy. What's more is that this eccentricity never pays off. They don't come to a conclusion that proves old-fashioned book learnin' is better than computerized, digitized information. Instead, they wind up using a computer to solve their problem. Thereby derailing the attorney's eccentricity into a futile anti-technology rant.

"But I like books, they're my only friends." — Crackpot Lawyer Person

It turns out that Finney faked his death to frame Kirk, falsifying the computer records, and hiding on the ship. It's a plan that... Eh, the logic of it doesn't really track, so I'm once again going to stop while I'm ahead. The point is Kirk was right, and Finney was an insane person.

Kirk's bravado and reckless ego are validated by all of this. The crew's assessment of him as the paragon are reset and all's right with the Enterprise once again. His actions are justified, and he's been shown to be able to do no wrong.

But he's once again proven he's the right man for the most dangerous job in the quadrant.


--

Next up, things in space go boom in the two-part DS9 epic, with Favor the Bold & Sacrifice of Angels.

#90, The Booby Trap, The Next Generation, Season 3, Episode 7

Before being promoted to Chief Engineer, Geordi Laforge had an interesting career aboard the Enterprise. And by interesting, I mean I'm not sure they really knew what to do with him in the first season. He was the helmsman, sometimes. A command officer, other times. His defining characteristic was the visor that gave him sight. As the season progressed we got to learn more about him. Like, he's Data's friend... and other things? I guess? He had a crush on Tasha Yar? At the same time, the ship's engineering section was also going through an identity crisis. Every episode, it seemed like there was someone new as Chief Engineering, then never to be seen again. Like a drummer in Spinal Tap.

In season two, they promoted him from Conn Officer to Chief of Engineering. But there was no real indication that Geordi was qualified to hold the position of Chief Engineer. He was smart, and capable — even taking command of the Enterprise during a crisis that left the rest of the command crew trapped on a planet in 'The Arsenal of Freedom' — but qualified for Chief Engineer? Experienced enough to take responsibility for the most advanced ship in Starfleet? If you say so, Enterprise HR Director. Because, from the established episodes before the promotion, Data or Wesley seem far more qualified for the position.

So, Geordi suddenly became an expert on all things warp drive, put on the gold uniform and said some absolutely ridiculous technobabble throughout the rest of his tenure aboard the Enterprise. Seriously, kudos to Lavar Burton for getting some of these words out, let alone make them not sound ludicrous. Now in season three, we see the crew settling into their roles and their personalities continue to be explored. Now, there's one other thing we know about Geordi...

First and last date with Lt. Friendzone. 

The episode opens establishing that Geordi is not a ladies man. He's on a date on the holodeck with a woman who, frankly, never should have accepted the date in the first place. When a young man offers to take you on a moonlit caribbean beach, complete with drinks in coconut shells, and a violinist, and you're not into him, say no. Don't wait, presumably hours into the date, to let him down awkwardly. It's not good for anyone. It's painful (and a bit ham-fisted), but immediately puts Geordi in a position of sympathy.

Meanwhile, Data and Wesley are playing a game of chessposition, a game that combines the excitement of chess with the necessary evil of exposition. The Enterprise has found an ancient battle site, between two ancient alien races. Picard is super-excited to discover one of these ancient vessels in tact. Now, it's time to beam over and poke alien stuff. Because nothing ever goes wrong when you beam over to a thousand-year-old ship full of dead aliens.

In chessposition, no one wins. 

As they examine the derelict, the away team accidentally trigger a trap that bombards the Enterprise with radiation and drains any power output. They can't get away, and should they lose power to their shields, everyone on the enterprise would die of radiation poisoning. Having re-watched the episode (twice for this review), I'm not entirely sure I understand how the trap works, was supposed to work, how it affects the systems of the Enterprise, or how the trap was triggered in the first place. The gist is, the more power they use, the more powerful the effect. And if they don't get out, they're all going to die.

Geordi works with a holodeck character to figure out the problem. And things start to get a little weird.

What this episode really had me wondering was, just how smart and powerful is the Enterprise computer? It makes choices about how to interpret Geordi's commands. Has seemingly infinite storage and information. When asked, it extrapolates a personality for a holodeck character based on a real person from symposium records and personal journals and complains of a potential 9.37% margin of error in personality responses in seconds. In seconds. In essence, it makes a holographic life form, as if it's no big deal to make a digital copy of a personality and have it react like a living, breathing human being. In seconds.

This computer interpretation of engineer Dr. Leah Brahms is so real, that Geordi starts to have a relationship with this digital avatar.  It can flirt, offer massages, brag about its cooking skills, and self-aware enough to know that it's a hologram. It's essentially the same concept the computer used to create a holographic Dr. Moriarty, except the basis of this artificial intelligence isn't a fictional villain, but one of the engineers who designed the engines for Galaxy class starships. Do they make out? Not quite, (at least not shown), but they do part on a genuine kiss before Geordi turns her off.

"Silly, you're supposed to do the opposite of that." — Dr. Leah Brahms 

Geordi and his new holodeck lady friend (who looks eerily like the woman who rejected him earlier in the episode, but isn't) spend the entire episode arguing and come up with a plan to turn control of the ship over to the  computer, which no one is really having any part of. Not Riker, not Picard, and not even Geordi. When Geordi comes up with another plan, one that puts the risk in the hands of human beings rather than the computer. With a single burst from the engines before the boobytrap can use that power against them, they should be able to escape. Geordi offers to take the helm and solidify his rightful position as the episode's hero.

Except...

Except Picard (or possibly Stewart) decides he needs to be hero and takes the helm instead. He has to be the one who leads the Enterpise crew to safety. When things go south in Geordi's plan, Picard pulls a maneuver that neither Geordi, Data, nor anyone else with a basic understanding of physics sees coming. Using the gravitational pull of a nearby asteroid, Picard slowly slingshots them out of range of the booby trap. There's a fantastic moment when Data congratulates Picard on his cleverness, and he does so with both surprise and not a small amount of patronization.

The episode ends with a bit of a mixed message. Goerdi says goodbye to the Dr. Brahms hologram with a speech about how it's great to have technology, but we can't entirely rely on it. It can't replace the human factor. Then, in complete contrast to that, he gives her the aforementioned goodbye kiss. Through out the first act, Geordi longs for a connection with another person. He comes across as a little desperate. Then, that need is then fulfilled with a computer's interpretation of a person.

There's a great callback episode to this one, where Geordi meets the Real Dr. Brahms, and she discovers the holodeck program, and the awkwardness ensues. It's portrayed as an invasion. A violation of her as a person. And Geordi has to reconcile his emotional connection to an interpretation of a person, with the actual person.

—

Next up, we're putting James T. Kirk up for a court martial in the appropriately named Court Martial.

I'm sure it'll turn out fine.

#91, The Killing Game, Voyager, Season 4, Episodes 18 & 19

Don't worry, folks, it all makes sense in the end. Kinda? 

I have to be honest. I'm not 100% sure where to start with this episode. The two-part Killing Game begins in the middle,  so let's start there. A very Janeway-looking Klingon grunting and fighting off a Hirogen — one of Voyager's attempts at making their own Klingons — dressed as a Klingon warrior.

Klinganeway is wounded and it's quickly revealed that it's part of a simulation. The Hirgoen have taken Voyager, and turned the entire ship into a holodeck hunting ground so that they can practice their skills in a number of different scenarios using the Voyager crew as their prey. Memories wiped and placed into these scenarios with no knowledge of self, the crew fight for their lives, again and again. Only to be stabbed, broken, shot and stitched back together so they can do it again, and again, and again.

If there's one and only one thing we know about the Hirogen, it's that they're driven by the thrill of the hunt. The more dangerous the prey, the greater the victory. And like the Klingons they so desperately want to be, they live their lives by a code of honor. The hunt for them is more than a means of proving themselves as warriors, it's the cornerstone of their civilization. It's what drives their exploration, their technology, and their culture.

And what we have is a Hirogen Commander who's thinking about the future. He's identified that his people are in decline. They've stretched their empire as far as they can. Hunted species to extinction in their quest for the hunt. They have entire generations who strive for nothing but tracking prey. In short, they've stagnated. And a civilization in stagnation dies. The Commander has seen this, and is looking for a new path for his people.

Once upon a time in...
     ... Nazi-Occupied France.

He's using the Voyager holotechnology and the ship's computer database to satiate his people's need to hunt and allow for the possibility of other pursuits. He fires up a program set in Nazi-oppucpied France, with the Voyager crew placed in the role of French Resistance fighters and the Hirogen as SS Officers hunting them down.

So, the choice of a World War II scenario to test his men is an interesting one. And by interesting, I mean it seems entirely arbitrary. Like an excuse to mashup aliens and Nazi uniforms. He constantly has to remind his men to 'play the game' instead of resorting to their predatory nature. But why? If there's a direct metaphor between the Hirogen and the Third Reich, I can't quite put my finger on it. The Commander, by his people's standards, is progressive. An asshat who's torturing the crew, sure, but progressive.

It's the not the first or the last time Trek has directly or indirectly addressed Nazis. The Original Series used Nazi uniforms on an alien world. Enterprise will have time travelers help Nazis take over America. And the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor, introduced in the Next Generation and explored more fully in Deep Space Nine, is a direct metaphor for the horrors of WWII.

It's never explained why he chose this program. What he wanted to prove to his men with it. And even the Nazis within the program question the Commanders devotion to the mission of the 'Master Race.' Then, what's the point here? That myopic vision cannot be sustained? That blind devotion to a set of flawed ideals is futile? I'm not 100% sure. And it's bugging me.

"What's the point? How about the point my shoulder pads?" — Janeway 

While Janeway (who, once again, rocks ginormous shoulder pads) and crew regain their personalities thanks to the Doctor, they retake the ship and stop the Hirogen with holodeck characters from other simulations. WWII soldiers fighting alongside Klingon warriors in the corridors of the ship to take Voyager back from the invaders.

While its message may be a bit muddy, erring more on adventure than a moral lesson, this is the type of episode that only Voyager could attempt with a straight face.

Kinda.

--

Next up, Geordi falls for a holodeck physicist in 'The Booby Trap.'

The title is not what it sound like. 

#92, The Magnificent Ferengi, Deep Space Nine, Season 6, Episode 10

"Look, brother! Hu-mons!" — Rom

Quark lives his life by a different set of values than the rest of the DS9 regulars. His vision is clear, earn latinum by any means necessary (provided that it's not in conflict with self preservation, of course). He's constantly evaluating risk and reward for his schemes, and gets as much thrill out of the execution plans as the profit itself. He's smart. He's proud. He's a brilliant negotiator and knows the Rules of Acquisition by heart.

In the opening of this episode, he's just pulled off one of the aforementioned brilliant negotiations — piecing together bits of obscure information to learn that a merchant is hoarding precious goods to drive demand up, and uses that information to blackmail the merchant into giving him a large quantity of precious cargo. Space syrup or something. Quark's trying to celebrate by laying out his scheme in detail for anyone who will listen. But nobody's is listening. Bashir and Dax just got back from a secret behind-enemy-lines mission against the Dominion and Quark's tale of cunning and profit is overshadowed by more, shall we say, conventional acts of heroism.

In the eyes of the his people, what's he's just done is masterful. Epic. Heroic. Quark knows he's a bad ass, even if the rest of Deep Space Nine don't see it. His ego is bruised, unsure why his heroic act isn't viewed in the same light as the Starfleet covert mission. Remember when I said Quark was proud? Yeah, this starts to eat at him.

"Why won't any one take me seriously? Is is the suit made from pimp curtains? It's probably that." – Quark

Why can't the Ferengi get any respect from the Federation types? Why are they dismissed? Isn't the Ferengi Alliance an empire on par with the Klingons, the Romulans, or the Federation? So, when Quark learns that his mother has been kidnapped by the Dominion, he decides that instead of hiring alien mercenaries to pull off the rescue it should be a Ferengi-only tactical mission. Quark believes that Ferengi are every bit as formidable as the aforementioned Klingons, Romulans, and Federation. And why should be not believe that? The Ferengi are smart, cunning, ruthless, and driven with vast resources and powerful warships.

Hilarity ensues.

No, seriously, this is a fun episode. Quark puts together a rag-tag team of Ferengi warriors and his team is a mix of old and new Ferengi faces. Rom is the first to join. Nog is eager to use his Starfleet training to coordinate the military effort. There's a guy who likes explosions. Quark's cousin, I think. And their former foil, Brunt played by the great Jeffery Combs.

Together, they make an ineffectual commando team in training, so Quark relies on what the Ferengi do best. Negotiation. They decide to exchange a captured Dominion Vorta, for Quark's mother and things get complicated when they accidentally shoot their prisoner before they can make the exchange.

What's interesting here is the episode mirrors the fate for the Ferengi in the mythology of Trek.  They were supposed to be the nemesis of the Next Generation. The new Klingons. Perhaps it was their production design or their early portrayals, but as the Next Generation progressed, the Ferengi went from credible threat to cartoonish foils. And that's kind of what happens in this episode. Quark sets out to put together a team of Ferengi commandos, but it degenerates into playing for laughs as the traits of greed, self-interest and backstabbing set in.

There's a lot of things that may have been funnier on the page than in execution, but it's an amusing episode. Quark's role is as a foil and to provide an outsider's perspective on the Federation. This episode provides some much-needed comic relief in an otherwise dark time for Deep Space Nine crew. Quark, Nog and Rom are fine as flavor, but when the entire episode is Ferengi-focused like this one, it can be a bit much. It's entertaining, but not my favorite Quark-centered adventure. That's coming up later in the countdown in "Little Green Men."

Also, Iggy Pop is in this episode as a street-walking Vorta with a heart full of napalm.

The runaway son of a nuclear warp bomb.

And his performance is fantastic. So, I can't really complain about that.

--

Next up, the Voyager crew are hunted for sport by alien-Nazis in the two-part "The Killing Game."

#93 Future's End, Voyager, Season 3, Episodes 8 & 9

This is where I take a beat to remind everyone reading that this is not my list of the Top 100 Trek Episodes of All Time. This exercise for me is a chance (an excuse, really) to examine a brand I love and revisit some great moments of science fiction television. So, not my list. I say this because I would have never...

Neh-vher...

...Put the two-part  'Future's End' on any list of anything other than Top 100 things I don't ever need to see again. The Voyager crew travels back in the past to the 1990s to stop a catastrophe in the 29th century and... Because... Ed Begley, Jr.? There's a time paradox and a ship from Voyager's future and the crew dresses all 90s and... Ugh...

Trek is known for its comedic episodes. And this one, well, falls flat. There's a lot of forced attempts at humor in this episode. Neelix watches tabloid tv! Voyager is an UFO on the news! Ed Begley, Jr. is a villain! Janeway wears a pantsuit with giant, giant shoulder pads! The crazy homeless guy who claims to be from the future is actually from the future! Tuvok wears a hat!

"This hat hides both my alien heritage and my dignity." — Tuvok

We even lose some of the time-travel-fish-out-of-water shenanigans because Tom Paris is supposedly an expert on 20th century. And, for all that seems to be be going on with the future time ship, stealing technology from the future, trying to stop the paradox, Tom's romance with an astrophysicist...

Hold up.

Is that...?

Holy crap, that's Sarah Silverman. Mind... blown...

Okay, I digress. For all that's going on, they're seemingly spread too little episode over too much time. It's so thin, that they throw in some survivalists/government conspiracists at the end of the second episode to hold Chakotay and B'Elanna hostage seemingly to just run out the clock and provide a modicum of action. Hacker Begley, Jr.'s main threat to Voyager is taking over their computer so there was a lot of evil typing while grinning maniacally.

Silverman's character, Rain Robinson, is an astrophysicist working for Ed Begley's Harry Starling and is not having any of Tuvok's and Tom's shenanigans. She sees right through their attempts to be 90s. She calls out their odd behavior and isn't fooled by Tuvok's hat covering his ears. She's surrounded by spacemen, aliens, holograms, starships and takes it all in stride. She's written smart and it's refreshing to have someone call bullshit on the things going on around her. If there's one thing that works in this episode, it's one of the icons of the alternative comedy movement playing it straight. A feat of cosmic irony, which I calculate as making zero-point-zero sense.

Silverman makes zero filthy jokes in these episodes. What's wrong with the universe?  

According to rumor, Silverman was considered to be made a series regular, joining the crew. And one can't help but wonder what direction the show might have taken if she had been part of the retooling of Voyager and not Jeri Ryan's Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero-One. Fewer formfitting silver catsuits, probably, but we'll never know for sure.

Speaking of casting against type, Ed Begley, Jr. plays a billionaire mogul driven to steal technological advancements from the future at any cost so he can sell them for even more billions! He's selfish, destructive, and sociopathic, and carries about as much weight as a substitute chemistry teacher. If I've noticed anything in episodes that I've not really connected with is a villain who's non-threatening or miscast (I'm looking at you Kivas Fajo).

And in complete trekkie nitpickery, there's not one single mention of the Eugenics War that was supposed to be happening on earth at the time of this episode. Not even an obligatory 'historical records must have been off by a few decades' or 'the timeline's been altered.' Come on, Trek! 

Now, it's time to say something nice. These episodes provides the show with an excuse to let the Doctor out of sickbay with a piece of technobabble from the 29th century. Something that the show will play with throughout the remainder of the series. The Doctor, as always, is fun.

Trek in all of its iterations has its ups and downs. What surprises me is how well this episode is rated.   The reviews are generally positive, citing both Begley and the time travel bits as clever. I'm here to offer the counter argument, I guess. This one was just not for me.

Sorry, Sarah.

--

Next up, it's back to Deep Space Nine with the Magnificent Ferengi.

#94, Disaster, The Next Generation, Season 5, Episode 5

 'Disaster,' the second entry on Top 100 from the Next Generation, is fine example of a bottle episode. When a collision with an interstellar technobabble something or other (a quantum filament) causes an accident that incapacitates the Enterprise, the crew struggles to get back control before the ship explodes.

The Enterprise in 'sleep' mode. 

I should note that this episode was written by future Battlestar Galactica mastermind, Ronald D. Moore. The focus here is entirely character driven, and on putting these characters in unfamiliar territory. Situations counter to their nature. Captain Picard has to lead a group of children. Worf has to guide a woman through childbirth. And, the situation with the potential for the most disaster, Troi is put in command of the Enterprise.

Captain Picard has promised the winners of the Enterprise children's science fair a special tour of the ship. Picard, who in the pilot of the series stated that he's uncomfortable around children, is forced to get in touch with his paternal instincts and lead the children through the disaster. Throughout the episode, Picard has to adjust to leading children, something he admits to having little experience. By the end of the episode, he's bonded with these children. Effectively overcoming his admitted awkwardness with kids. Which means, by the end of the episode Picard is now without any weaknesses whatsoever. Because he is awesome.

When the accident happens, a redshirt bridge commander -- who we've never met before — bites it, and leaves Troi in command. Troi, it turns out, has the rank of Lieutenant Commander. This is not a thing that comes up often. Or, well, ever. Usually her role in the show is to state the obvious or move the plot forward. Here she's got to and she transitions from a position of uncertainty, blindly taking suggestions from O'Brien and Ensign Ro, to making command decisions that saves the lives of everyone on the crew.  But she does so on nothing but blind luck.

With no section of the ship able to communicate with any other part of the ship, their plan to save the Enterprise is dependent on someone alive in engineering able to reactivate the antimatter containment field saving the ship. Ro pushes for Troi to separate the saucer section and save everyone they can. And pushes hard. Troi refuses, wanting to give everyone the best possible chance to survive.

Troi is running entirely on faith, with no evidence that there's anyone else alive on the ship. Why she can't sense them is a convenient oversight in the story. But it's the convenience of her being right that kind of irks me here. There's an infallibility to the crew that cuts out the dramatic tension. And though there was never any real threat of the Enterprise blowing up, the only real consequence is the aforementioned redshirt. Everyone does the right thing in this episode. And every decision is validated with success. Fortunately, Riker and Data's head (see the episode, it'd take too long to explain) make their way to Engineering just in time, and everyone gets a mega-happy ending.

"Where is my happy ending, Counsellor?" — Data

Marina Sirtis does a good job of showing someone completely out of her element finding confidence in their decisions. When she finally takes control she does with as much gravitas as she's able.

And Worf delivers a baby in Ten Forward. Hilarity ensues.

My Favorite Moment in the episode... When Picard meets the winners of the children's science fair, he asks them about their experiments. The youngest of them had the strangest, and most awesome response. The boy said, "I planted radishes in special dirt and they came out all weeeeird." Complete with maniacal grinning and finger steepling. Aaaaannd, what? What the hell kind of mutant soil are they letting kids play with? What the hell kind of kid would want to do that? What the hell, Next Generation? Maybe growing up on a starship warps kids in ways we can't possibly imagine. During the episode, when Picard is trying to boost morale of the kids by assigning they ranks in their small crew, he appoints the kid the Executive Officer in Charge of Radishes.

It's a position that will not turn out well for any radish on board.

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Next up on the list, Voyager's two-part 'Future's End.' Voyager travels back to the distant past in the 1990s and the villain is Ed Begley, Jr. If that doesn't sound like a recipe for success, then...

Okay, I have no idea how to finish that sentence.