It's never made much sense that the entire multi-species Federation would be subject to a strict ban on genetic engineering due to events on Earth that happened centuries before the Federation was even founded. The way they doubled down on that rationale in Una's trial only highlighted the absurdity -- especially when Admiral April claimed he would exclude Una to prevent genocide.

On the one hand, the writers may be trying to create a straw man out of a weird part of Star Trek lore so they can have a civil rights issue in Starfleet. And that's fine. From an in-universe perspective, though, I think we can discern another reason for the ban on genetic engineering -- the Klingon Augment Virus.

There was a ban on genetic engineering on United Earth, which is understandable given that it was much closer to the time of the Eugenics Wars. Why would that remain unchanged when more time passed, more species joined, and more humans lived in places without living reminders of the war? [NOTE: I have updated the paragraph up to this point to reflect @Value Subtracted's correction in comments.] The answer is presumably that they needed to reassure the Klingons that something like the Augment Virus would never happen again. Hence they instituted a blanket ban around that time -- perhaps in 2155, the year after the Klingon Augment Virus crisis and also, according to Michael Burnham, the year the Geneva Protocols on Biological Weapons were updated.

That bought the Federation over a century of peace, but after war broke out due to a paranoid faction of Klingons who thought humans would dilute Klingon purity and after peace was only secured through the most improbable means, they doubled down on the ban. Una's revelation provided a perfect opportunity to signal to the Klingons that they were serious about the ban -- hence why they would add the charges of sedition, perhaps. Ultimately, an infinitely long speech and the prospect of losing one of their best captains combined to make them find a loophole -- but not to invalidate the ban or call it into question. This Klingon context is why April, who we know is caught up in war planning of various kinds, is so passionate that the ban exists "to prevent genocide" -- he's not thinking of people like Una, he's thinking of the near-genocide they suffered at the hands of the Klingons.

This theory still doesn't paint the Federation in a positive light, since they have effectively invented a false propaganda story to defend a policy that has led to demonstrable harm. But it makes a little more sense, at least to me. What do you think?

The Galaxy class starship was designed with the ability to separate the saucer from the stardrive section, so that the "floating city" part of the ship could be left somewhere safe while the rest of the ship galavants off to do something risky. We see this happen precisely once, in the season one episode Arsenal of Freedom. We also see saucer separation deployed for a handful of tactical and or emergency uses (such as against the Borg in The Best of Both Worlds, or to escape the breaching warp core in Generations).

So, this seems like a useful ability to have, and the Enterprise is constantly being sent into dangerous situations. Why not use this ability more frequently?

What amazes me most about this episode is that it’s a Star Trek legal episode that doesn’t want to make me tear my hair out. Thankfully they kept the trial procedure to its most basic.

The title means loosely, in Latin, “To the Stars Through Hardship/Difficulties,” or “A Rough Road Leads to the Stars”. It is the motto of the state of Kansas, can be found on NASA’s Apollo I memorial, and also in-universe the motto of the United Earth Starfleet in ENT.

As a child, Una suffered a serious leg injury, but her father refused to take her to the hospital for fear of the doctors discovering her modifications. We see the open wound glowing, like Una did when manifesting her abilities in SNW: “Ghosts of Illyria”.

Batel offers a plea deal: plead guilty to knowingly submitting false information to Starfleet by failing to disclose her genetic modifications, and Starfleet will dishonorably discharge her without prison time. The charge could carry a two-year minimum imprisonment term, so Batel and Una’s JAG-appointed counsel advise her to take it. Una recognizes that this is designed to sweep this under the carpet, and questions how she can have effective counsel if he works for Starfleet. This is a live issue in military trials even today, and to discuss it properly would take more space than we have here.

It is Stardate 2393.8. Pike is on a planet in the Vaultera Nebula to persuade Counselor Neera Ketoul, the civil rights lawyer he and Una discussed in the previous episode, to take up her case. The atmosphere is toxic to humans and Pike requires an oxygen mask to get around. The local inhabitants are Illyrian, genetically adapted to survive.

Ketoul used to be Una’s friend but something came between them. She notes that Starfleet’s race laws are draconian and Una’s lucky not to be charged with sedition. Ketoul has had 10 cases against the Federation thrown out over the last 2 years despite being strong ones. Pike makes reference to the events of “Ghosts of Illyria” and convinces her that taking this case might bring more attention to those she’s lost.

The case file Pike hands to Ketoul is contained on a translucent orange square, like a cross between the old data cartridges of TOS and the isolinear chips of TNG.

The last time Neera and Una met was 25 years ago (we find out later that was when she joined Starfleet), which makes it around 2234-2235 (SNW: “Children of the Comet” suggests it was at least 2260 then). It’s been two months since Starfleet found out about Una’s modifications. Until then her record had been spotless.

Batel refers to the JAG as her boss, although she was also commanding the USS Cayuga in SNW: “The Quality of Mercy”, that was helping Enterprise upgrade the Neutral Zone outposts. In the present day military, trained JAG officers can technically alternate between legal duties and being line officers in a separate MOS as required, and Batel could be in that position. It is possible she used to be a JAG officer, switched to a starship captaincy and then was reactivated for Una’s case because she was the closest qualified JAG officer.

The Judge is Admiral Vasak, and Batel is accompanied by a Vulcan Vice-Admiral, Pasalk (the JAG?). Both Admirals are dressed in variations of the blue uniforms last seen in DIS with Admiral rank flashes on their shoulders.

Because Una has rejected the plea deal, Batel applies to amend the charges against Una to knowingly submitting false information to Starfleet and violating Starfleet Code 614 to 617 by engaging in permanent bioengineering, along with two counts of sedition. She announces she’s seeking a sentence of dishonorable dismissal and 20 years in a Federation penal colony.

The way Batel phrased it (and taking Ketoul’s earlier remarks about Una being lucky not to be charged with sedition), I surmise Una’s original charges were only the false information and permanent bioengineering charges. As we find out later, they fall under the same regulations, so the false information charge is probably specific to information about bioengineering rather than a general false reporting offence.

The plea deal was then not a reduction, but merely to plead guilty to one and have the other one either withdrawn or taken into consideration (i.e. not sentenced separately for). Batel’s application is therefore to add the sedition charges not previously put forward and proceed with all charges at trial.

A global sentence of 20 years seems harsh, and that’s probably because of the sedition charges and also because they’re charging her under military regulations. Over a century later, Richard Bashir would be sentenced to two years in a minimum-security penal colony for genetically modifying his son, which as a civilian he would have been subject to civil laws (DS9: “Doctor Bashir, I Presume?”).

Robert April sponsored Una’s application to the Academy. She served under him for years (alongside Pike on Enterprise) and he promoted her.

Ketoul is assigned Una’s quarters on the Enterprise for the duration. She is escorted there by La’An, who is back in uniform. Ketoul asks for access to the Starfleet Uniform Code of Justice - presumably their equivalent of the US military’s Uniform Code of Military Justice.

La’An refers to Starfleet v. Wyck, which points to the “fruit of the poisonous tree” doctrine - a well-known rule in US law which states that illegally procured evidence, or indeed even evidence indirectly derived from that, is inadmissible in Court.

Una and Pike met when he gave a speech to her Academy class, talking about a test mission he’d flown. Una pointed out a mistake he had made during re-entry, impressing him with her willingness to tell him he was wrong, qualities important in a first officer.

Ortegas’ miming of Pasalk and Spock’s conversation mentions kal-toh, a Vulcan logic game/puzzle first seen in VOY: “Alter Ego” and most recently in PIC: “No Win Scenario”. M’Benga reads the Vulcan body language and says the two hate each other. He would, of course, be familiar with it since he did a medical internship on Vulcan (TOS: “A Private Little War”). Spock says Pasalk was a former colleague of Sarek’s.

Uhura quotes Regulation 25, Section B, that all personal logs are to remain sealed unless by order of Starfleet Command. Regulation 25 was quoted in LD: “Second Contact” as prohibiting the transfer of weapons to other races without the permission of the Federation Council, so it seems odd on first blush that personal logs should be lumped under that section as well, but maybe it’s just a result of a century of regulatory amendments.

The tribunal is called to order with a ship’s bell, as first seen in TOS: “Court Martial”. Behind the panel is the JAG Office seal. Javas is presiding, along with Space Command Representative Zus Tlaggul, a Tellarite, and Starfleet Commander Chiv, a Vulcan. Batel and Una are dressed in division colored versions of the Admiral uniforms, which are redesigns of the dress uniforms seen in TOS, complete with medals being displayed on the left chest.

Batel refers to the Eugenics Wars (TOS: “Space Seed”) as the impetus for the genetic modification ban, with tens of millions dead. April says Starfleet Regulation 17, Article 12 specifically prohibits genetically modified people from serving in Starfleet.

April words General Order One as, “No starship may interfere with the normal development of any alien life or society.” This is a summary, as the actual order was seen for the first time in PRO: “First Con-tact”, and the wording taken from David A. Goodman’s book *Federation: the First 150 Years”.

In 2246 (one year after Enterprise was commissioned), April warned the Perricans, a pre-warp civilization about a meteor shower that could have ended their planet. In 2248, he sent his science officer to Na’rel, an industrial age planet to stave off an extinction-level drought by sharing Federation technology. On the hostile planet Man-us II, landing without his security officer, April chose to reveal the Enterprise to the pre-warp Ohawk. Apart from the violations, this suggests that GO1 was in force by 2246 at least.

April promoted Una faster than any other officer on the ship and recommended her for the Medal of Gallantry after the Marcel disaster of 2248.

La’An graduated top of her class and has been promoted each year of her tenure in Starfleet. That means she’s been in service for about two to three years (assuming ENS, LT j.g. and LT progression). That also allows us to calculate her age to be - at a minimum - 23 to 24 years old (entry at age 16-17, 4 years at the Academy, 3 more years in service). She has also been considered for the Starfleet Medal of Gallantry.

La’An met Una when she was rescued after escaping a Gorn breeding planet (SNW: “Strange New Worlds”, when Una was an ENS on the USS Martin Luther King). She lies when she says she didn’t know Una was Illyrian (“Ghosts of Illyria”). Una sponsored La’An’s application to Starfleet.

Spock met Una on his first day aboard Enteprise (ST: “Q & A”) and mentions her love for Gilbert & Sullivan (which she swore him to secrecy on, damn you Spock!).

In Una’s quarters we see a picture of her as a child with her parents alongside a picture of Pike in his DIS blues next to Una in her DIS Season 2 uniform (DIS: “An Obol for Charon”).

La’An believes that someone got a hold of her personal log in “Ghosts of Illyria” and that was how Una was outed. La’An also carries her ancestor’s augmentations (confirming something we’ve long suspected) and fears she could become dangerous. Ketoul assures her genetics is not destiny and given the time - 6 months minimum - it’s needed to subpoena a persona log, it’s unlikely La’An was responsible.

(Continued in comments)

Poor Terry Matalas. It's clear from numerous post-season interviews that, for as elaborate as S3 became by the end (rebuilding the Enterprise-D! Bringing back Ro and Tuvok! Changelings and Borg and Lore!), his original vision was yet more elaborate. Apparently he originally planned to have Janeway and Kim also appear, and to show Ro still alive in the brig with Tuvok at the end of the season. The man clearly was dreaming big.

Given that, it seems slightly implausible that he would omit material purely out of carelessness. And the absence of Alexander seems like a pretty large omission -- especially in a season that was so focused on the parent-child relationship and the idea of "the next generation". Yes, there are all these memes about Worf forgetting Alexander, but that doesn't strike me as the kind of fan service Matalas was going for.

From a storytelling perspective, omitting Alexander seems pretty similar to why Odo was mentioned adoringly as "a man of honor" but not named: there was already a lot of backstory and reference being woven into the story, and throwing out a random name -- or a random concept like, "Oh yeah, Worf has an estranged son" -- would create too much to unpack.

Likewise, it seems like they wanted Worf to have a paternal presence with Raffi, so omitting Alexander simplified that story.

But still: in a season that was all about parents and their children, it seems significant that they couldn't find any way to reference him.

Unless...

Worf has a memorable scene with Raffi where he tells her, "Don't presume to know what I have sacrificed" (or something to that effect). Surprisingly, that line is never followed up on... explicitly.

But I suggest that that is where we learn of Alexander's fate: Worf has lost his son. Whether to death or desertion or deep undercover work, who can say? But we have an open question -- where is Alexander? -- and we have a vague statement that is never otherwise explained -- that Worf has sacrificed a great deal -- and given how much the rest of the season ties itself together, I suspect this was meant to be a subtle nod to explain away Alexander's absence.

Why not make it explicit? Why doesn't Worf tell anyone about Alexander? I argue it's because they wanted to save the "grieving parent" story for Riker + Troi, especially Riker. Explicitly portraying both Riker and Worf as grieving fathers would create an elephant in the room too big to ignore, and would've taken up much more space in the story.

So, instead, poor Alexander is consigned to a mysterious comment from his father -- perhaps fodder for some future tie-in novel, or perhaps someone we might meet in Star Trek: Legacy.

Are there other theories as to where Alexander might be, or why the writers did not mention him?

To say Discovery has been "controversial" would be something of an understatement. From the very beginning the show sparked off considerable debate about it's quality, and the bevy of showrunner changes and resulting shifts in tone and plot choices just adds an extra layer of confusion. Many of the same groups and same people continue to have very similar arguments over what is clearly a completely different show in 2023 than it was in 2017. Personally I've become frustrated to the point of disinterest about where this show has gone, which makes it all the more exciting to go back and (re)discover something I thought I knew but had begun to really wonder about:

The very beginnings of Discovery are fucking excellent television.

Here's why.

Early Discovery was actually planned out

To start with, the pacing and plotting of both the individual episodes and the overall arc of the season are excellent. In the moment, they are delightfully seamless: pacing is brisk but not rushed, traversing from one important thing to the next, with emotional moments given an appropriate amount of time to be registered and felt without feeling drawn out. Each episode has a clear beginning, middle, and end, with individual stakes that matter beyond simply advancing the season plot. Of course they consistently advance the overall season plot too (with the exception of Magic to Make the Sanest Man Go Mad, which is "merely" a wonderfully executed standalone sci fi story that significantly develops three of our main characters). They do so not by dropping largely inconsequential teases and misdirection in alleged pursuit of a goal fated for resolution only in the finale, but via bite sized, meaningful changes to the circumstances our heroes find themselves in.

This demonstrates something which is clearly absent from the subsequent seasons, and even tossed away before the end of this one: detailed long term planning. Not only are we spared the bizare shifts in background information (is the Red Angel suit hyper advanced future tech, or something a research team banged out 20 years ago? Is the 32nd century Federation tiny, isolated, and largely ignored, or are they active galactic participants with genuine political clout?), but it's also critical for allowing the episodes to flow neatly together as a coherent story. There's been plenty of debate about if Star Trek should even be trying to tell these long-arc, binge-friendly seasonal stories, but clearly CBS wanted that. So why not do it right?

Early Discovery (mostly) makes sense

Every Star Trek show has had it's share of silly stuff. Obviously TOS was absolutely loaded with zany things that seem more in keeping with it's cardboard and hot glue aesthetics than the more serious tone subsequent shows attempted to set, but even the best of TNG era Trek had some whoppers mixed in. Where it has succeeded is by keeping most of the wacky missteps in relatively unimportant places, encapsulated by single episodes and devoid of larger consequence.

Then there's the tech which every Starfleet ship is totally reliant on, most of which has only a fleeting connection to real world physics. The Mycelial Network blends right in: it's a pretty wild idea and most certainly is not real. Just like warp drive. And just like warp drive, it is at least based on something real. Ehh, close enough.

I have little desire to relitigate in depth the plausibility of S2/S3 Burnham being intimately connected to so many wildly disparate galaxy changing things, or how reasonable it is to have a emotionally distraught child trigger a galactic cataclysm that nobody could solve for over a century, but I'll certainly contend that early Discovery's WTF rate is more in line with TNG era Trek than it's more recent seasons have been. A low bar? Sure. But a relevant one.

Early Discovery did good job developing characters

By the end of those nine episodes, we've had a reasonable detailed introduction to six main characters, and all of them have at least a little extra dimensionality to them, enough that they feel real and as presented, I do care what happens to them:

Burnham is our focusing lens for the story and certainly gets the most screen time, but she's also far from the most important person on the ship. We know she's a proficient officer, but also that she fucked up royally with massive repercussions in the opening acts of the show. That dichotomy lines up well with her odd mix of behaviors: conflicted about how much she deserves the second chance she was thrust into, yet supremely confident in her own abilities. Highly empathetic towards the Tardigrade, yet unhesitant and unapologetic in manipulating Saru into being a walking danger meter. There's clearly major unresolved trauma there, and I'd like to see this person develop more naturally from here. She should have her redemption, but she'll need to earn it: not through one grand gesture of genocide refusal, but by demonstrating over time that she is dealing with her demons, and really has learned from the disaster at the binaries.

Speaking of the most important people on the ship, Stamets is chief among them. He has neither the desire nor the mentality to be a warrior, and yet he serves an irreplaceable and absolutely critical role in what has clearly become a ship of war. He's a jerk when we first meet him, but his military necessitated chance to get close and personal with his research shows us a softer side, and likely changed him in ways that we're just starting to see develop. Culber is still mostly one-note, but as a couple they play very well off each other.

Saru has a decidedly alien mentality for a military officer, but is clearly good at what he does. He is both thoughtful and candid about his past and present conflicts with Burnham, and his stint as acting captain in Choose Your Pain showed considerable growth. I want to see more of this guy learning to command (and I will get some, if less than I'd like).

Tilly is an absolute delight. She has her share of minor and harmless tics, babbling when she's nervous and occasionally blurting things out when excited, and she's vulnerable to getting flustered... but can still pull herself together and do what must be done. She shows an impressive level of emotional intelligence in her interactions with Burnham and Stamets, and she also has the awareness and confidence to identify what she wants in life, and fight for it. That's an incredibly endearing combination, and makes her the emotional heart of the show. Give me more, much more, of Burnham mentoring Tilly up to an eventual captaincy. Maybe Tilly could only reasonably work her way to full Lieutenant or Lieutenant Commander over the course of a seven season show, but that would be plenty: I'm not here to see four pips, I'm here to see believable growth in an already sympathetic character.

Lorca and Tyler I'll be touching on later.

(Continued in the comments...)

In DS9 Quark makes a throwaway line about the Great Monetary Collapse that happened during his early lifetime. He describes it as a period caused by "rampant inflation and currency devaluation."

This description might seem puzzling at first, because the Ferengi have always been shown to use hard currency. Hard currencies are generally deflationary currencies, with a fixed or at least limited supply and a growing (and hoarding) population. The only way a currency can rapidly inflate is to increase the supply of the currency, or alternately for there to be a shortage of things to buy.

In short, inflation requires too much money chasing too few goods.

I hypothesize here that the Ferengi experienced an economic collapse caused by replicator technology, specifically the point at which replicators became able to create gold. The Ferengi experienced this shock more severely than most other cultures, not only because they use hard currency, but also because they revere it.

What happens to an economy when replicators show up? The answer is not inflation. A replicator makes goods for cheap. If you can conjure up your Raktajino out of thin air and energy, the price of a Raktajino is going to plummet to the cost of that energy. As long as you are not on board a ship which needs to ration energy, cheap becomes functionally free.

This is the apparent engine behind the Federation's economy. In Federation space, everyone gets a protein resequencer, and there is no more hunger. Then later, everyone gets a more replicator, and clothing is free too. Every year a new advancement, and every advancement brings a new thing that the citizens can conjure up.

But the Ferengi do not think like that. If your religion is based on making a profit, you do not give away the source of free goods. The Ferengi likely had a small number of early entrepreneurs with a monopoly on replicators, setting their prices to what the market would bear.

Even under this system, the prices must fall. As long as the Ferengi compete, seek profits, and can produce goods indistinguishable from one another, prices must fall. Cartels can form to prop prices up, but a cartel only lasts until someone new gets a replicator. Sooner or later, everyone will get a replicator, and the Ferengi will have to find other ways to make a profit.

The shock of cheap goods can collapse economic sectors. Yet progress marches on. Where the Ferengi ran into problems wasn’t the production of goods, but of their reverence for hard currency.

The Ferengi relationship with currency is not like other cultures. At the start of TNG: The Outpost Ferengi did value gold, to a point of finding it offensive that the Federation officers would wear it brazenly.

Now Ferengi are not unique in finding value in gold. Everyone used to value gold. During TOS: Devil In The Dark, they were willing to risk the lives of workers despite deaths just to get access to the gold and platinum, and when they finally made peace with the Horta they were quite happy. Archer uses gold bars to negotiate with the Ferengi, who accept this even after it is made clear they are gold, not gold-pressed latinum.

But by the events of DS9: Who Mourns for Morn, a distraught Quark makes clear, gold is absolutely worthless. This is a radical change, but the evidence suggests it is not merely a continuity change.

We must then ask, when did gold become worthless? Quark does seem to value it only a few seasons earlier, in DS9: Little Green Men, but this happened when Quark was far in the past, and knew he was in the past.

The best example I can find of worthlessness comes from TNG: The Price. While some details are lost on-screen, the original script has some stage direction which I think is instructive.

[Goss] turns the sack upside down and a pile of gold bars spills out across the tabletop.

GOSS: I'll match anyone's best offer... and add the gold on top of it.

He holds out his hands in a fait accomplit motion. Sits back in his chair, with a confident grin. Bhavani reacts, nonplussed. Picard EXITS...

So from the script it's clear, Goss thought gold was useful, and no one else in the room did.

We can then assume that at this point in time (2366) the Ferengi (or some subset of them) were behind in replicator technology, and it resulted in Goss making a fool of himself, bargaining with someone he valued, and no one else did.

This is a society on the brink of collapse. In fact the collapse may already be happening behind the scenes.

Why didn’t the Ferengi see this coming? I believe the Ferengi religion left them blind to the danger. Ferengi do not merely value gold as a good. In fact, they do not merely value it as a currency. The existence of the Blessed Exchequer paints an interesting picture of the Ferengi relationship with their currency. Every Ferengi believes that their afterlife is determined by their ability to make a profit. Thus, every gold bar held by a Ferengi is their spiritual salvation.

The destructiveness of a currency collapse cannot be understated. Quark comparing it to war trauma is played for laughs, but it was not funny to him. If he has any belief in the afterlife, it was was an existential threat to him.

Replicators didn't just crash the economy of the Ferengi. It threatened to damn their very souls.

In fact I would speculate there is a reason why the Ferengi use gold trappings around latinum. The shape, the weight, the feel of currency matters to them. Visiting the Nagus requires the paying of respects, literally. Pressing latinum into a metal was convenient. Pressing latinum into gold was an important symbolic transition.

Leaning into some apocryphal sources now, a little beautiful tidbit emerges. In DS9: Ferengi Love Songs we learn that the Grant Negus who preceded Zek, called Smeet, presided over one of the largest market slides in recent Ferengi history, and was assassinated in office. Thus he likely saw the effects of free gold. According to the Legends of the Ferengi, Smeet was credited with writing the 89th, 202nd, and 218th Ferengi Rules of Acquisition. The 218th rule, according the the DS9 Comic Baby on Board reads as follows:

Sometimes what you get free costs entirely too much.

When studying vertebrate paleontology, the skeleton is one of the most important, and often the only, clue we have to the appearance of long-extinct animals. In Lower Decks: "Kayshon, His Eyes Uncovered", we were treated to the ghoulish sight of of Spock's skeleton ^1, ^2, courtesy of the remains of his giant clone from TAS: "The Infinite Vulcan." Any dinosaur fan knows that while there's only so much bones can tell you about the living animal, they can still tell quite a story. I am not an expert in anatomy and not a trained paleontologist, but it is my hope that analyzing the remains of Spock the Larger will provide further insight into the anatomical differences between humans and Vulcans. By way of comparison, here is an anatomical diagram of the human skeleton: ^3

Dentition

As near as I can tell, adult Vulcans appear to have 28 teeth to the human's 32, seven on each side ^4, ^5 on top and bottom. (It's possible that Spock could have had his wisdom teeth out, but presumably the clone would have undergone no such procedure, and no empty sockets are in evidence.) Looking closely at the teeth themselves, six molars, four incisors, and four bicuspids per side are in evidence. There is no sign of the canines a human has. This suggests that Vulcans evolved from a herbivorous answer. Could Vulcans' propensity for vegetarianism be a biological imperative rather than a cultural tendency?

Skull

The proportions of the Vulcan skull as depicted in this image compared to the human skull in this image are fairly simpler. The skull, across the zygomatic along the upper corner of the orbit, is 101 pixels wide on the Vulcan as depicted in figure 1 and 75 pixels wide in the human as depicted in figure 3. The height of the skull, respectively, is 173 and 132 pixels. These equal a ratio of 1.71 for the Vulcan and 1.76 for the human. Sufficiently clear side and rear views are unfortunately not available for comparing the approximate circumference of the cranium, but it can be presumed that the Vulcan skull is similar in all dimensions to that of a human, and that their brain would likely be similar size (and thus, similar in proportion to their overall body mass) to that of a human. While brain-body ratio isn't a perfect estimator of intelligence this is certainly consistent with them being comparable to a human in intelligence (but don't let the Vulcans know, they'd surely be insulted.) Vulcan eyes are forward-facing. Binocular vision is unusual in prey species, but as we've established, Vulcans are herbivores. One possibility is that a wide field of vision is not necessary to protect from predators, which would suggest that there are no predators on Vulcan large enough to threaten a man, however the existence of the Le-Matya and the large creature that nearly slew a young Michael Burnham when she camped out in the Forge disproves this hypothesis. On Earth, the only herbivorous animals with forward-facing eyes are found among our primate relatives, who descend from an arboreal ancestor that required depth perception to brachiate. I suggest it is thus likely that Vulcan was once home to vast forests, in the trees of which a distant, pointy-eared ancestor once lived.

Vertebrae

Vulcans are vertebrates, shockingly.

All jokes aside, based on the position of Giant Spock's shoulders, it would appear that Vulcans have only five cervical vertebrae to humans' seven ^6. Fewer than seven vertebrae is uncommon for mammals on Earth-- the only mammals with more or fewer than seven vertebrae are manatees with six, two-toed sloths with five, and three-toed sloths with nine. All other mammals, from mice to gorillas, have seven. It's hard to say what the practical effects of this would be, as the number of bones in the neck don't necessarily tell us much about the flexibility of that neck.

Ribcage

I count seven ribs per side, of which the last two are floating ribs unattached to the sternum ^7. These extend rather further forward than the floating ribs of humans. Like earth's tetrapods, and unlike many fishes, Vulcans have only a single set of ribs. I think the Xiphoid process can be seen through a hole in Giant Spock's shirt. I suspect that Vulcans may have smaller lungs than humans do(an assertion backed up by the anatomical chart in the old Starfleet Medical Reference Manual, where the position of the Vulcan heart and stomach truncate the lungs slightly.) Vulcan is generally said to have a thinner atmosphere than Earth, so we can conclude that Vulcan lungs must be far more efficient than our own.

Hands

This is an interesting one. If you look closely at the bones of the Vulcan hand it appears that they are significantly different from those of a human. The most notable difference is that the Vulcan hand appears to have either an additional phalange, or else they have not one, but two metacarpals per finger-- I think the latter, because it looks like the joint would be about mid-palm on a human to me. ^8 The most likely result is that the Vulcan palm can, perhaps, be folded in the middle. This could potentially jive with our brachiation hypothesis from earlier. However it is worth noting that this adaptation seems to appear only on the right hand (on the audience's left in the image.) Most likely one hand or the other is simply the victim of an animation error, but which one it is, we cannot be absolutely certain of.

Unfortunately, glimpses of the remainder of the skeleton are fragmentary and hard to tell us much, though a generally close resemblance to human anatomy continues to be evident from what we see, which includes part of the left radius, the radius, ulna, and humeral trochlea of the right arm, the right shoulder, some three lumbar vertebrae, a bit of the ilium on both sides, and a glimpse of both knees. However we have sufficient diagnostic material to distinguish fossil remains of H. sapiens and V. eridani despite the otherwise extreme convergence of their physical traits.

The @daystrominstitute analysis of "The Broken Circle" is now live on Lemmy!

https://startrek.website/post/46502

#startrek #allstartrek #startrekstrangenewworlds #lemmy

I saw this rant/complaint over on Reddit, and it got me thinking a bit.

We know that at least on paper, Federation starships are insanely fast and agile. Data has stated that the Galaxy-class Enterprise was able to achieve Warp 9 from , and some ships, like the Nebula class, don't seem to use impulse engines at all, favouring the warp engine for sublight speed usage at all.

Despite that, we also know that impulse engines aren't simple thrusters, and are able to move the ship in a way not directly in line with the output thrust (Relics), and from the same episode, we also know that smaller ships, like the Jenolan, will still run rings around ships like the Enterprise, even though it is nearly a full century out of date.

However, from what the show itself portrays, the ships tend to be fairly slow and sluggish when in combat, sedately drifting along the battlefield, while weapons fire goes every which way. The most recent and active thing we've seen a big starship do is maybe the fighter run in Picard.

In my opinion, by trying to keep to the slow and seemingly logical expectations for starships to be slow, hulking metal structures that slowly fly around shooting each other, Star Trek ends up underselling what Federation starships are able to do. They would be more realistically portrayed flitting about the battlefield like dragonflies, instead of being like "real boats" today, that have more of a sense of mass.

It seems wildly unintuitive, but it would also help show Federation propulsion technology being more advanced than what they are now. Starships can instantly stop and reverse course, or move in ways that would be impossible with modern technology, and the show not showing ships capable of doing just that might be to its detriment.

This is the Daystrom Institute Episode Analysis thread for Strange New Worlds 2x01 The Broken Circle.

Now that we've had a few days to digest the content of the latest episode, this thread is a place to dig a little deeper.

The history of Starfleet uniforms is long and varied, and reaches back earlier than the dawn of the Federation itself. But despite a wide-ranging colorful history, each era of Starfleet uniforms can be placed into one of two categories: lots of colors (one for each department), or few colors (departments grouped into divisions). The department-specific approach was used for about 80 years, from the mid 2270s (Star Trek: The Motion Picture) through the mid-century mark of the 24th century, giving each department (Command, Helm, Navigation, Engineering, Communications, Security, Services, Sciences, and Medical) a unique color.

For the rest of Starfleet history, a simplified structure has been employed, grouping various departments into what Memory Alpha and others have deemed “divisions,” with a single color per division. Despite many tweaks in the color assignments, the divisions themselves have remained remarkably consistent across 60 years of production history (and some three centuries of in-universe history.)

I propose that uniform color reflects fundamental differences in the basic approaches of each department.

Sciences

The departments in the “Sciences Division” focus on analysis of primary data sources.

The biologist works directly from her data, the doctor works directly from his patient's symptoms and readings. They are inherently skeptical and conservative in their approaches, methodical, with a preference for slower work that dives very deep. They synthesize conclusions based directly on their immediate findings.

Their work is generally fairly focused on a specific area– in theory, complications won't swing in from left field. Doctors have it more complicated– their approach does resemble those used in the command division, to some degree (see below). But the inherent skepticism, as well as the scientific rigor of their work and their historical connection to the sciences keep them within this division.

During the 2150’s, characters such as T’Pol, Sato, Cutler and Jessica Wolff all wore “Sciences Blue” at various points. From the 2230s through the 2250s, science officers on ships like the Shenzhou, Archimedes, and Discovery wore “Sciences Silver”, while their counterparts on Constitution-class vessels such as the Enterprise wore “Sciences Blue”. The Constitution variants were subsequently rolled out fleetwide, in a slightly different shade of blue. Roughly a century later, a variety of characters including physicians, psychologists and scientists all once again wear “Sciences Blue.”

The sole major exception to the color triad occurs during the first half of the 23rd century. Both on the USS Kelvin in 2233, and on the Shenzhou and on the Discovery during the 2250s, medical officers are shown wearing white. It is possible this practice was halted not longer after the Federation-Klingon War, perhaps specifically to avoid giving hostile intruders such obvious targets.

This division include general science officers, physicians, psychologists, astrobiologists, xenoanthropologists, and a range of other scientific disciplines.

Operations

The departments in the “Operations Division” focus on practical application.

They take scientific findings with which they are very familiar and put them to use; they problem-solve, with a low threshold for acceptable results: if it works (safely), then it's good. Engineers use physical scientific principles to problem-solve, while security and tactical officers use social science and strategy principles.

Creative, out-of-the-box solutions are encouraged, and being able to think on your feet and solve the problem in front of you is critical. Their work is also generally fairly localized, allowing them to focus very specifically on the problem at hand, before moving on to the next one.

During the 2150’s, characters such as Tucker and Reed wore “Operations Red”. From the 2230s through the 2250s, engineers on ships like the Shenzhou, Archimedes, and Discovery wore “Operations Copper”, while their counterparts on Constitution-class vessels such as the Enterprise wore “Operations Red”. The Constitution variants were subsequently rolled out fleetwide, with a transitional variant seen in 2265 which adopted the full-color tunic style, but maintained a beige coloring reminiscent of the previous copper (see note). Roughly a century later, engineers, security officers and tactical officers all wear “Operations Gold.”

This division includes engineers, technicians, operations managers, security personnel, communications officers, tactical officers (though see below), and sometimes certain administrative personnel including yeomen.

Command

The departments in the “Command Division” are required to engage in complex analyses and decision making.

They take information from multiple sources simultaneously and rapidly synthesize comprehensive conclusions, while potentially having to pivot their focus on short notice, temporarily leaving one problem unsolved, efficiently multitasking.

During the 2150’s, characters such as Archer and Mayweather wore “Command Gold”. In 2233, command personnel aboard the USS Kelvin wore “Command Blue” in a full-color tunic that resembled the Constitution variants shown some twenty years later. Also in the 2230s, then-Lieutenant Georgiou wears the “blue jumpsuit” variant, which uses a different color triad; given the precedent established in 2257 (and in the 2370s), it is likely that the Kelvin variants coexisted alongside the “blue jumpsuit” variants — perhaps the Kelvin was the Enterprise of its day.

From the 2230s through the 2250s, command personnel on ships like the Shenzhou, Archimedes, and Discovery wore “Command Gold” in the “blue jumpsuit” variant, while their counterparts on Constitution-class vessels such as the Enterprise wore “Command Gold” of various shades in the “full color tunic” variant. The Constitution variants were subsequently rolled out fleetwide, with a green wraparound variant seemingly only available to captains. Roughly a century later, starship captains and space station commanders, executive officers and flight control personnel all wear “Command Red.”

Aboard starships, the members of the Command Division are well-established: captains, first officers and flight control officers. However, as we peek further into Starfleet, we find other departments represented there as well.

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The amount of #startrek content on my feed has expanded considerably since #lemmy became the new home to @daystrominstitute and @startrek.

Paths Not Taken

Deep Space Nine is replete with paths not taken, in terms of storylines. What if Jadzia really had died in “Change of Heart”? What if they had gone to Sigma Iotia II for the 30th anniversary episode instead of learning about the troubles with tribbles? What if Ro Laren, Sito Jaxa, or Thomas Riker had returned?

One path that was never really taken (and as far as I can tell, never seriously contemplated) is major political drama between the Starfleet and Bajoran crews on the station. Yes, Season 2 started with the extremely underrated Circle Trilogy, but that conflict was Far Away on Bajor (and inflamed by Cardassian influence). Beyond a few differences of opinion here and there, Kira and Sisko never seriously clash, which is a little odd, especially given how much grey area they were working in — a Bajoran-owned space station run by Starfleet officers? “We’re just here to administrate”? What does that even mean?

But there is one exception: “Dramatis Personae”.

Sorta.

The Valerian Situation May Have Been A Vaccine

See, “Dramatis Personae” shows this exact conflict of Starfleet vs Bajoran playing out… but under alien telepathic influence, dramatizing through lived experience the conflict that destroyed a civilization. It’s an interesting blend of real-world details being repurposed into the aliens’ script — the dynamics are the same, even though the particulars are different.

And so we do get a bit of a preview of what this conflict might look like — especially from Odo and Quark, who are unaffected. But, in all honesty, it does feel like a bit of a cheat, since it becomes clear at the end that no one was in control of themselves, whatsoever.

Now, I think this episode actually can be used to explain why we don’t see a real conflict break out on the station. After being released from the alien influence, Sisko and Kira (to say nothing of O’Brien, Jadzia, and Bashir) no doubt reviewed the logs, reports, and Odo’s account of what happened. They would have seen how quickly the situation unraveled. It would be a vivid reminder to them that they are holding this situation together purely by their goodwill and willingness to cooperate.

Rather than exacerbate existing tensions, the events of “Dramatis Personae” may have allowed the Starfleet and Bajoran crews to reap the benefits of the conflict without suffering the consequences. Thereafter, when minor conflicts would arise, they’d be seen in the light of the Valerian Situation, and addressed with that much more urgency to keep things from totally unraveling.

In this way, the Valerian Situation may have been a vaccine that inoculated the crew against destructive division going forward.

A Doylist Commentary

Though (in)famous among the Star Trek lore for its heavy serialization, DS9 should perhaps be equally (in)famous for its lack of planning around its serialization. There was no long-term arc, no long-term vision for the series. Except for a bit in the seventh season, there is no intentional foreshadowing — only post hoc foreshadowing that arises out of a choice to follow up on previous stories. The Dominion War was only planned to last six episodes — right up until it wasn’t. Julian Bashir’s genetic code was utterly normal — right up until it wasn’t. Jed Bartlet didn’t have a chronic illness, right up until Sorkin had the idea for Charlie and the President to be stuck in the residence watching daytime TV — oops, wrong franchise!

Likewise, in the late first season, the Prophets were probably not on the writers’ minds. Even on the (relatively rare) occasion that they decide to tell stories about the Bajorans during the first two seasons, the Prophets are very much a background fixture — a piece of cultural heritage, not active players in the drama. (Contrast that with later seasons when the Prophets begin to have an active influence — everything from “Accession” to “Prophet Motive” to “Sacrifice of Angels” and so on.)

But in hindsight, as I will lay out below, the events of “Dramatis Personae” could easily have been caused by the Prophets, rather than by some one-off alien species from the Gamma Quadrant.

Now, to be frank, I don’t think the writers had decided (at that point) what they wanted to do with the Prophets. It’s only in the context of the series overall that it might seem “in character” for the Prophets to do something like this. At the time, only 17 episodes in, the Prophets were still pretty uncharacterized, and what we had seen of them so far pointed more toward a hands-off approach.

But if they had decided earlier on that the Prophets were going to be active players in the drama of the series, this episode — with only a few minor modifications — could have been used to lay the groundwork for that.

Being so early in the series, they probably would have opted for something a bit more mysterious, a bit more Twilight Zone. Something like this:

An Alternate Story

The Klingon ship returns from the Gamma Quadrant, with everyone aboard comatose from personal combat injuries, save one, who beams to Ops before promptly collapsing into a coma himself. O’Brien detects that the ship is about to explode, but manages to beam out the warp core just in time for it to spectacularly explode, some distance away from the station. The episode continues on unaltered from there.

Then, instead of finding the energy spheres on a distant world that they identify as the former homeworld of the Saltah’na, the Klingons find the energy spheres on Idran, near the far mouth of the wormhole. They aren’t able to identify the civilization of origin, but Odo’s ear perk up when he hears them describe the spheres as being “hour-glass-shaped”. Cut to a scene of Odo standing in the Bajoran temple, contemplating an Orb. He shares this revelation with no one.

The rest of the episode continues unchanged, until the last scene. Kira has her heart-to-heart apology with Sisko, and Sisko teases her about letting the mutiny slide “this time”. She mentions that the Klingons have all recovered and are on their way home to recuperate, and then heads back out to Ops as Odo enters. He is very unneasy and explains that he has something he needs to share with Sisko, something very delicate and potentially inflammatory. Sisko gently tells him to go on.

ODO: “Sir, in reviewing the Klingons’ logs, I discovered an… alarming coincidence. As you know, the Klingons discovered the telepathic energy matrix on an abandoned planet on the other side of the wormhole.”
SISKO: “Yes, in the Idran system.”
ODO: “That is correct. What I did not put in my official report… is that the Klingon science officer described the devices they discovered as being ‘hour-glass-shaped.’”
camera on Sisko’s face as he reacts
ODO: “As you have experienced first hand, Bajoran orbs do have telepathic capabilities…”
SISKO: “And Idran is not much farther away from the wormhole than Bajor is. Which means, it’s possible that this entire affair was somehow caused by the aliens who live in the wormhole.”
ODO: “You can see why I said this was potentially inflammatory. The Orbs may be instruments of alien influence, used for nefarious purposes.”
SISKO: turns to look off into the distance, maybe out the window “I’m not so sure about that. Bajoran history is replete with personal accounts of Orb encounters that were revelatory, life-changing, and overwhelmingly for the better.” turns to look back at Odo, looking him in the eye “And my own experience with an Orb suggested nothing nefarious.”
ODO: still skeptical “But you don’t deny that the Orbs may be influencing people and events.”
SISKO: starts to speak, but pauses. He comes around to the other side of the desk, to stand next to Odo, and look out at Ops — at Kira specifically. “Maybe. But in this case, perhaps they helped us out.”
Odo looks out at Kira as well, and then they both look at the Starfleet and Bajoran crews working together — O’Brien with his Bajoran technicians, Kira planning duty rosters with Dax… every team in Ops integrated with Starfleeters and Bajorans alike.
Sisko and Odo share a look as we fade out.

If they had done this, it would have laid the groundwork for any number of other stories throughout the series. It would have heightened Sisko’s arc as a skeptic disbeliever turned Emissary. And, combined with “Duet” and “In The Hands Of The Prophets”, would have made for an informal “three-part season finale” that recapitulates the main ideas of the First Season, which I think would be pretty awesome.

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In my TNG season 1 rewatch, I finally got to the season finale, "The Neutral Zone." Though best known for Picard's utopian declarations to the cryogenically frozen people from the 90s about the post-scarcity future, it also centers on a tense confrontation with the Romulans. I noticed many parallels with the setup of the Discovery premier, "The Vulcan Hello" In both, our heroes confront a foe that has not been heard from in many years -- the Klingons for Discovery and the Romulans for "Neutral Zone." In both, they are befuddled by a cloaking device. And in both, there is a dispute about how to respond to the situation -- Burnham and Worf both insist that they must fire first or risk annihilation, and both are drawing on the experience of their parents being killed by the respective species. And I suspect that this parallel is intentional on the part of the writers, because of the crucial difference -- Worf is 100% wrong about the need to fire first, while the verdict is much more ambiguous for Burnhan. She agrees that she was wrong to attempt mutiny, but was she wrong to try a preemptive attack under the circumstances? We never know for sure, and even she never directly repents of her desire to strike first. By creating a parallel with a well-known TNG episode and then inserting a crucial difference, the writers are sending the signal that we are definitely not in the utopian TNG era.

But what do you think?

When doing some digging about the nature of Bajoran orbs I found an interesting piece of unused dialogue spoken by Bashir in the episode 'Accession' when discussing the neurotransmitter psilosynine:

"It's a neurotransmitter involved in psychic phenomenon [sic]. We all have a little of it, but people who've been exposed to things like... Vulcan mind melds... the Bajoran orbs, are often left with more."

This draws on canon information from TNG stating that psilosynine is chemical used in Betazoid telepathy- which is among the more powerful versions we have been shown. Since the Orb's increase the amount of this chemical in the brain it may convey telepathic ability.

We know that telepathic ability can be granted in this way from T'pol and Tucker's experiences. After melding they experienced a profound psychic link far beyond what a human should be able to experience. But as Bashir notes both mind melds and the orbs increase psilosynine.

Another interesting tid bit is the Bajoran clergy's annoying habit of grabbing ears to read one's 'Pagh'. However some, like Opaka, were able to gain uncanny insight into those they touched. While this might all be a strong example of good research and cold reading Bajoran spirituality touches on enough metaphysical (in a very literal sense) areas that we can keep an open mind.

Given that the clergy keep the closest presence to the orbs and consult them often it is likely they have a far higher psiloslynine count than most. If Bajorans have a psychic potential then then the clerics are the most likely to express it.

Further evidence for this is the Sidau village from 'The Storyteller' Bajorans born and raised in the presence of even an Orb fragment develop powerful psychic abilities together including telekinesis and energy manipulation.

Its possible then that Bajorans are touch telephaths- when their brains are sufficiently stimulated- such as by the orbs. This explains how they are able to form such insights not to mention their prediliction for prophecy. Whatever connection the Prophets, the wormhole and the Bajorans have it is clearly a deep one- influence their culture for tens of thousands of years. Is this enough time for psychic potential to evolve? Hard to say but given that spatial phenomena can unlock telepathic potential in humans- such as with Gary Mitchell and Elizabeth Dehner its not outside the scope of possibility that the same could happen to Bajorans.

If the unlocking of Bajoran potential continues then this may form the basis of the link between the Bajorans and the Prophets. If the Bajorans continue to evolve into psychically powerful beings beyond space and time then they may indeed become their own gods.

In recent years, I have been surprised to find one part of DS9 that keeps on getting better with age: the Ferengi. As vehicle of social commentary, they go where Trek never went before.

Today, I want to focus on Ferengi society being used as an indictment of what we might call "patriarchal masculinity" (as in, expectations that a patriarchal society has about what masculinity is and how its men should embody it), specifically, by contrasting how Quark and Rom react to their father’s perceived shortcomings.

What do we know about Keldar?

Quark idolizes him as the traditional head of the household. He recalls Keldar’s exasperation and gloom with respect to his wife, Ishka — “Quark, I don’t know what I’m going to do about that female!” Quark acknowledges that Keldar was successful enough in business, but feels that he could have been much more so, if not for Ishka’s troublesome behavior. In short, he recognizes his father’s shortcomings, but blames his mother for them.

Rom, in contrast, sees their father in more mundane terms. Unlike Quark, who left home right away, Rom stayed for years and, as an adult, perceived Keldar’s lack of business acumen. “He couldn’t hold on to latinum if you sewed it into his pants!”

Ishka speaks lovingly of her deceased husband, but does little to hide her belief that he did not have the “lobes” for business. If memory serves, she once privately remarked to Quark that Rom had inherited his father’s lobes, referring to his poor business skills (though I may be recalling that incorrectly).

So, it appears that Keldar was lacking in terms of that which makes someone a “real Ferengi.”

Let’s consider his sons.

Rom follows in his father’s footsteps, trying to be a successful businessman, for many years, with apparently just as little success. It’s only after watching his son join Starfleet and forming the union (at O’Brien’s encouragement) that he changes, seeking his own path outside of Ferengi culture and its expectations.

Rom witnesses his father’s suffering and himself suffers for decades for not living up to Ferengi standards and eventually responds to that suffering by leaving the game altogether (until he comes back to reform it— a story for another time).

Quark, in contrast, witnesses his father’s suffering, and beyond being ashamed of it, does everything he can to avoid it— both by leaving home as quickly as possible, and by cultivating what we might call “hyperferengity” in himself— an unparalleled focus on being a “true Ferengi”, beyond the shadow of anyone’s doubt. He responds to his father’s suffering by doing everything he can to avoid the shortcomings that caused it.

Quark sees an unfair game and responds by obsessing over winning; Rom sees an unfair game and eventually leaves to play something more fair.

Rom’s suffering is obvious in the early seasons of Deep Space Nine. Mocked and despised by a brother who likely sees him as the embodiment of their father’s shame, his own natural talents and interests squelched by a system that has no use for them.

But I think the costs that Quark pays are more subtle. He is presented opportunities for growth— Pel, the union, the post-Zek New Economy— and he either agonizes over accepting them, or dismisses them out of hand. This culminates in his declaration of the bar as the “last outpost of what made Ferenginar great”— a steadfast and unrelenting commitment to an idealized version of the past, with a refusal to engage with the future. (Make Ferenginar great again, anyone?) I might not describe any of this as a “cost,” except that I believe that Quark is doing it all basically as a reaction to his father (or more specifically, his shame for having such a father). He is driven by his own pathos more than anything else. He is not his own man: he is driven by fear— fears that his brother could overcome, but not he.

Now, Ferengi business acumen is often coded as masculinity— “he has the lobes for business”, “you wouldn’t have the lobes to do something so gutsy!”, “he has the tiny lobes of a female!” (not direct quotes, but those are the sentiments). Here, I have coined the term "hyperferengity" in the same vein as "hypermasculinity."

So, take the informal psychoanalysis above, and replace all the references to business acumen with references to masculinity, and we find an allegory for how societal expectations of masculinity can end up hurting everyone— both those who “pass the test” and those who fail— and how the trauma of one generation gets passed down, in manners subtle and gross, on to the next.

It's a classic, if somewhat exaggerated trope in Star Trek: The ships first officer, second officer, tactical officer, chief engineer, chief medical officer, and a random ensign beam down to an unsecured planet while some dangerous problem is either ongoing or likely to occur. The Doylist reasons for this are as obvious as the Watsonian reasons it seems so silly: these are the main characters who are supposed to get the bulk of the screen time, so they are constantly thrown into situations which real world commanding officers and department heads are generally kept well clear of.

But what if this wasn't the precedent established in TOS and continued in every subsequent series (including, to a slightly lesser but very real extent, Lower Decks)? What would a Star Trek show look like which still had senior officers who we are meant to care about and who still get significant development and screen time, but who aren't thrown into unrealistically dangerous situations on a regular basis? Could such a show survive telling stories without visibly putting those regulars lives on the line so frequently? Would it be viable to keep the focus on things that happen either aboard ship or in nominally safe situations? Alternately, could a show successfully develop a cast of lower ranking "away team" characters who get the "dangerous" screen time while keeping significant focus on the major decision makers on the bridge? And how could the shows manage such a visible separation between "expendable" and "not expendable" crew while maintaining that humanist, optimistic, everybody-has-an-equal-right-to-life ethos?

It wouldn't be an easy thing to pull off, certainly. But how could it have been done?

It will surprise few members of the Daystrom institute who are familiar with me and my work that cartoons are one of the only things I enjoy as much as I do Star Trek. One of my favorite animated shows of all time is Cartoon Network's 2010-2019 surreal fantasy-comedy Adventure Time with Finn and Jake. The creative crew of Adventure Time were notorious Star Trek fans, and particularly of TNG. Over the course of their ten seasons they cast numerous Star Trek alumni, including George Takei, Michael Dorn, Jonathan Frakes, Wallace Shawn, Marina Sirtis, and LeVar Burton, not to mention many more that would later appear on Star Trek-- mostly career voice actors and comedians with roles on Lower Decks or Prodigy such as Tom Kenny, Paul F. Tompkins, Grey Griffin, Lauren Lapkus, Paul Scheer, and Dee Bradley Baker, but some that are more well-known for live action such as Tig Notaro, Rebecca Romijn, and Rainn Wilson.

For those of you that may be unfamiliar with Adventure Time, it primarily centers around the adventures of teenage boy Finn the Human and his best friend and adoptive brother Jake the Dog, a pair of fantasy adventurers in the land of Ooo, a fantasy realm a thousand years after global nuclear war ends civilization as we know it and heralds the return of magic to the world. As the show went on it explored many corners of their world, often devoting entire episodes to supporting characters where the two leads make minimal or no appearances. One of the most acclaimed and beloved episodes of Adventure Time is season 5, episode 16, "Puhoy", the series' first Emmy winner. Many fans, including tiresome internet personality Doug "That Guy With The Glasses" Walker, have noted the similarities between Puhoy's story and that of Star Trek: the Next Generation's "The Inner Light", an episode I am sure requires no introduction to the members of the Daystrom Institute.

More than merely riffing on a shared trope, however, I argue that Puhoy constitutes a specific parody of The Inner Light, a joke helped along by the appearance of not one but two notable Star Trek alumni: Jonathan Frakes as a grown-up Finn, and Wallace Shawn as village wise man Rasheeta. Finn, held back from adventuring by the arrival of a dangerous storm and melancholy about the state of his budding relationship with Flame Princess, constructs a pillow fort with Jake. Jake advises Finn that the problems he worries about are imaginary ones borne of attachment, and to demonstrate, thoughtlessly destroys his favorite mug by pitching it out the window into the conflagration. Unsure about the lesson, Finn enters the pillow fort to meditate and finds a mysterious door, which appears to lead him to another realm made entirely of pillows and blankets. While there, he slays a dragon, and dances with Roselinen, the daughter of a local villager named Quilton, but finds himself wanting to return home soon.

Meanwhile, Jake uses a fishing rod to retrieve his cup, and when questioned about this apparent hypocrisy by their roommate BMO, a living video game console, Jake offers to share some hot chocolate with them. Back in the pillow world, years have passed. Finn and Roselinen have married and had two children, named Jay and Bonnie (after Jake and another main character, Princess Bubblegum, also called Bonnibel.) Quilton arrives and informs him that he has learned of a way to return to Finn's normal life-- a door that appears only infrequently and for a short time. Years later, Finn consults with the oracle Rasheeta about the door, but Rasheeta offers no clear answers, except that Finn will soon leave. Finn finds he can no longer clearly recall Jake, and when he tries can only recall a figure that more closely resembles Rasheeta telling him to stay with Roselinen. Roselinen encourages him to return home, asking only that he remember her and the children when he does. Finally, Finn dies of old age, surrounded by family, and emerges from the pillowfort, still a young boy. His attempts to relate this experience to Jake is interrupted by a phone call from Flame Princess, causing him to forget the whole thing like a dream.

Almost every beat of Puhoy is the opposite of The Inner Light. Unlike the crew of the Enterprise, Jake and BMO make no attempt to rouse Finn from his other life, and indeed scarcely appear to be concerned at all. Unlike Aline, Roselinen is supportive of Finn's desire to resume his old life. Unlike Picard, the experience can leave no lasting impression on Finn, and the episode is at best ambivalent about the idea of sentimental mementos, adopting as many of Adventure Time's most poignant episodes do a highly existential, Zen philosophy that it is best to focus neither on the past nor the future. But Finn and Picard's journey is alike, the tension between their old life and their new life is alike, and it only serves, alongside the casting of Frakes, to highlight the irony of how unlike the details of the episodes around them are in a way that brings the audience in on the joke.

@williams_482@startrek.website invited contributors from the old Daystrom to repost some favorites, so here is one of mine.

Throughout Star Trek, but especially in TOS and TNG, we are commonly asked to be very stressed out about our captain being overruled or displaced. Regardless of whether the replacement does a good job, it seems clear that we are supposed to resent him simply because he is not the usual captain we have come to know and love.

A particularly striking example of this is TOS "The Deadly Years," where Kirk is aging rapidly and apparently going senile. This seems like a clear case where Spock should step in -- but a good chunk of the episode is taken up with the procedings to relieve Kirk of command. In the end, the inexperienced starbase commander who replaces him turns out to be a disaster, and the ship is only saved when a cured Kirk is able to come in and be his usual decisive self.

The most gut-wrenching example, of course, is Captain Jellico, who arbitrarily changes everything, criticizes the way Troi dresses, won't let Riker do his job -- and regards it as a foregone conclusion that Picard is dead.

I have seen several comments to the effect that the crew's response to Jellico is a little childish, and I think that's a clue to what's going on with this common plot. Namely, I believe that the captain is put forward as a father figure and that the displacement plots are speaking to a cultural anxiety about divorce. The replacement captain is the step-dad who always appears to be an illegitimate usurper -- and in the end, we get the fantasy outcome that mom and dad get back together again.

This may seem far-fetched, but the earliest TOS episodes do a lot of work to establish Kirk as a father figure (most explicitly in "Charlie X") and the ship as his wife ("The Naked Time"). This is more subdued in TNG, where Picard is awkward with kids -- but Picard's emotional distance completely fits with the "traditional" image of the father. Surely "Captain Picard Day" is something like Father's Day for the Enterprise children! And more broadly, the backstory of many Enterprise crew members includes broken families, alienation from parents, dead parents or spouses -- all factors that lead them to identify the ship as their true family (and invite the misfits in the audience to do the same).

Over the years, of course, our culture became less and less stressed out about divorce as it became more routine -- and so those plots suggested themselves less and less. In DS9, it is far from a dominant theme. I haven't rewatched in a while, but I don't remember even a single plot that hinges on someone taking over for Sisko -- when the Dominion takes over the station, the emotional focus isn't Sisko's lost command, but the loss of the station itself. [ADDED: I wonder if the fact that Sisko is the only captain who is presented as a literal father somewhat undercuts his role as father-figure thematically.]

And Janeway's command is never seriously disputed. Of course, in-universe you can say it's because she's so far away from the admirals, but symbolically, she's the mom -- and in a typical divorce narrative, it's never a question of whether mom will remain in place. The one clear example I can think of where the crew rebels against her authority is "Prime Factors" -- and their main rationale is that they believe Janeway's judgment is clouded by her obvious attraction to the leader of the vacation planet. In other words, the kids get restless when it looks like mom might have a boyfriend.

The theme of the displaced captain comes back somewhat in Enterprise, but to me it feels different. The issue isn't Archer being replaced by a step-dad -- instead, the problem always centers on Archer's masculinity. In "Hatchery," he becomes overly maternal toward the Xindi Insectoid babies, which leads to a mutiny. Similarly, in "Bound," the Orion Slave Girls compromise Archer's judgment with their aggressive sexiness. Archer's either becoming a woman or being dominated by one -- which calls back to the early episodes, when it could sometimes be unclear whether he or T'Pol was really in charge. Archer represents not a father, so much as an emasculated human race ready to prove itself -- a more reactionary theme for a more reactionary time (the early 2000s).

It is Stardate 2369.2, and Enterprise is docked at Starbase One. Chief Fleet Inspector Commander Pelia from Operational Support Services and her team are performing systems checks and upgrades.

No lawyer will take up Una’s case, not even the lawyer Pike and Una have in mind. The authorities have offered Una a plea deal but Pike advises urges her not to resign. Pike offers to confront the lawyer face to face. She is on the other side of the quadrant, 2.5 days round trip in “one of the newer shuttles”, indicating they are warp capable. Spock becomes Acting Captain, although he points out the lack of a Chief Engineer, a Security Chief and Una’s absence.

M’Benga notes Spock seems to be suffering from stress. He points out that Vulcan emotions are stronger than human ones, but that they control them through suppressive cognitive blocks. Spock removed those blocks to fight the Gorn (SNW: “All Those Who Wander”), so his emotions are flowing more freely.

M’Benga presents Spock with a lyre, to help him channel emotion into expression. The lyre was first seen in TOS: “Charlie X”, and subsequent appearances in canon have established it as a Vulcan lyre (or lute). This suggests that it was M’Benga who gifted Spock his lyre at this moment. This is consistent with M’Benga being familiar with Vulcans because he did his internship on the planet (TOS: “A Private Little War”). Spock’s heart rate goes down as he plays it, only for him to stop and have it shoot up when Chapel enters.

Chapel tells M’Benga she’s thinking about applying for a fellowship in archeological medicine, which will be 2 months on Vulcan. This is probably how she will meet her future fiancé Dr Roger Korby (TOS: “What Are Little Girls Made Of?”), who was a renowned figure in the field.

Ortegas has reversed the pitch and yaw controls on her helm console because the standard configuration wasn’t fast enough for her. Uhura is at the communications station and is no longer wearing her cadet insignia, indicating she’s graduated and is an Ensign.

Uhura tells Spock she has detected a distress signal from La’An originating in the Cajitar system, on the edge of Klingon space. April denies Spock permission to investigate, despite the message saying that there is a dangerous, anti-Federation threat on Cajitar IV and Enterprise’s resources are critical. Cajitar IV is a rich dilithium mining planet - the Federation alternates access to it with the Klingons thanks to a carefully negotiated treaty and for this month it’s the Klingons’ shift. If Enterprise shows up it will be an act of war.

Spock briefs the featured crew, including navigator LT Jenna Mitchell, on his plan to get the inspectors off the ship and steal the Enterprise to help La’An. This foreshadows Kirk & Co. famously doing the same thing to help Spock in ST III, a sequence called “Stealing the Enterprise” on the soundtrack album.

Mitchell triggers an intermix chamber coolant leak alert in Engineering. Plasma coolant dissolves flesh, as seen in ST: First Contact, and lack of coolant can cause a warp core breach.

Pelia teaches a course in warp core breaches at Starfleet Academy. Heightened temperatures around an intermix chamber is the most common factor mistaken for a breach. Purposely simulating coolant leak on the sensors violates about 17 Starfleet regulations.

Pelia notes the Vulcan inability to lie (a myth, as we’ve seen on several occasions, and Spock will get much better at it in future) and that they don’t do things without a good reason. She reveals she knows that Spock is Amanda Grayson’s son and suggests Ortegas to vent ionized plasma from the warp nacelles. Doing so triggers an alert on Starbase One, with Docking Control blowing the docking clamps and ordering Enterprise to make space between the ship and the station.

Pelia offers her services as Chief Engineer and says it’s been 100 years since she’s gone out with engines of her own. Ortegas scoffs, and Pelia says it’s a really long story. Uhura identifies her accent as Lanthanite, and Pelia confirms it.

Spock’s go-to-warp catchphrase is, “I would like the ship to go. Now.” Mitchell’s previous captain’s was “Zoom”, and Ortegas has been workshopping “vámanos” (“let’s go” in Spanish).

On Cajitar IV, La’An wins a bloodwine drinking contest with a Klingon, Kr’Dogh. She gets a meeting with someone named Greynax. One wonders how La’An is outdrinking a Klingon since the sense was that she was not genetically enhanced like her relative Khan - unless we’re being set up for another revelation like with Una, which might be over egging it with two genetically modified people in the main cast.

M’Benga approaches La’An, drawing a line under his eye with a finger like he did in SNW: “Strange New Worlds”.

Cajitar IV became a valuable source of dilithium during the war. When it ended, a new mining syndicate made up of ex-Klingon and Federation soldiers decided peace was bad for business and want to restart the war. To an unknown end, they are acquiring Federation technology, and a recent mining explosion exposed the town to ion radiation, including Oriana’s parents. M’Benga says that ion radiation isn’t from dilithium, but can be created by photon torpedoes.

Both Chapel and M’Benga served in the Klingon War (she implies that they served together). M’Benga likes reading up on weapons systems, and notes that the war produced 100 million Federation deaths for “a parsec of space or two”.

M’Benga and Chapel go to offer aid to the afflicted, and Oriana recognizes them. M’Benga suggests inducing recombination to repair genetic damage on her parents, which Chapel administers via a hypospray. They are then taken at gunpoint by a female Klingon and her henchmen.

(Continued in comments)

While some may argue in transparently bad faith that it isn't so, it's obvious to even a casual observer that Star Trek's setting depicts in the Federation a vision of society in which the goals of both the social and economic left wing have largely won out and largely been attained. The people of the Federation have relatively complete equality of race, gender, sexuality, and even species. Resources are abundant and housing, food, shelter, healthcare, education, and beyond even the necessities even most of the pleasures of life are provided to virtually all. The environment is protected and even controlled on many populated planets to protect the ecosystem.

What, then, is at the cutting edge of politics for the Federation? In the interests of disclosure, I have identified as an anarcha-feminist and a pacifist for more than a decade (albeit not a tremendously intellectual one), and my analysis here is based in large part on the issues I believe that, as a civilian living in Star Trek's universe, I would likely have strong positions on.

A few candidates immediately present themselves:

• AI rights. A major theme of 24th-century Star Trek, from the beginning of TNG right up to Picard, is the debate over the rights of artificial intelligences, whether in the form of androids and synths like Data and Soji or photonics like the Doctor, Vic, and Moriarty. Less attention is given to less anthropomorphic forms of artificial intelligence. As we see in Lower Decks, Starfleet and the Daystrom Institute keep rogue AIs such as AGIMUS, Peanut Hamper, and 10111, with no evidence that they received any kind of trial or evaluation. The tragedy of 2385 became a major impediment to AI rights, but after the events of season 1 of Picard they seem to be back on track, at least for Synths. The personhood of photonics and non-anthropomorphic AIs remains up in the air.
• Augment rights. This may be an internally contentious issue. on the one hand, it is clear that genetically-altered individuals are marginalized as of the Dominion War. It is by the narrowest of margins that Bashir avoids being drummed out of Starfleet for being the recipient of a medical procedure he had no ability to consent to or refuse, and the Jack Pack are in some ways treated more like inmates than patients. Less than a century and a half before, Illyrians were persecuted and La'an Noonien Singh faced bullying as a child for being the distant descendant of Khan. However the memory of the Eugenics Wars looms large in the human imagination and genetic augmentation may still be viewed by some as inherently hierarchical.
• Humanocentrism and Vulcan Supremacy. Azetbur's remarks on the Federation as a "Homo sapiens-only" club are not strictly true, but they're not strictly unfounded either. The Federation's capital has always been Earth, Starfleet's headquarters are on Earth, Earth seems to have more colonies than any other member world (and stay tuned while we discuss that further), Humans make up the bulk of Starfleet (even on the Cerritos, by far the most species-diverse ship shown in Trek canon, the majority of the crew seem to be human), Federation Standard is closely descended from English, and four out of six Federation Presidents named or depicted across Star Trek canon are either human or of partial human ancestry. Vulcans, meanwhile, are frequently openly prejudiced against other species and seem to face little opprobrium for being so. This is more prominent in the 22nd and 23rd century, with anti-human terrorism on Vulcan, Spock's childhood bullying, and Starfleet even declaring entire vessels (such as the Intrepid) Vulcan-only; but it still seems to be present in the 24th and even, in some respects, as far ahead as the 32nd century.
• Seceding worlds (and the Maquis.) Unlike the United States of America, which had a whole civil war over the matter, Federation member worlds, and even colonies, appear to have the right to withdraw Federation membership. Aside from the Cardassian Border colonies that produced the Maquis rebellion, Turkana IV is perhaps the most prominent example in the 24th century. We know later in history most of the Federation's worlds, including Earth, Ni'Var, and Andoria, will secede as well in the aftermath of the Burn, and there are some indications that M'Talas Prime may be ex-Federation by the time of Picard. Turkana IV and M'Talas prime serve as an effective demonstration of exactly why this might become a progressive issue: neither seems to have thrived without the Federation, and the Maquis secession resulted in years of violence ending in mass murder on the part of the Dominion. On the other hand making Federation membership irrevocable is not exactly respectful of the sovereignty of those worlds' people. This is likely an issue that sees divided perspectives.
• Expansionism and Imperialism. This may be another controversial one. It is undeniable that the Federation is expansionist, always settling new worlds, welcoming new members, and pushing its borders outwards. As an organization Boldly Going Where No Man Has Gone Before is a central element of Starfleet's mission. However it is clear that one of the key goals of the Prime Directive^1^ is in ensuring that this expansion does not come at the expense of sovereign indigenous civilizations. Nevertheless, we often see the citizens of other polities feel their people are pressured, or even subtly coerced, to join the Federation, especially in DS9. It is not hard to believe that these concerns are shared by at least some Federation citizens.
• Social issues in neighboring societies. It is clear that many of the Federation's neighbors do not place as high a value on the rights of the individual or of the people as do the Federation, from Ferengi misogyny to Klingon classism to Cardassian totalitarianism. This is the opposite side of the coin from the prior issue, and it seems like the dominant strain of thought in the Federation is to pursue a policy of not intervening even in other advanced societies in the name of inalienable rights, or even providing more than token support to internal resistance movements much of the time (witness the struggles of Bajor, for instance.)
• Section 31. It remains unclear how much of the existence of Section 31, particularly in its modern form, is known to the public. However if it is known, an organization willing to violate the Federation's every high-minded principle in the ruthless pursuit of protecting its interests is doubtless a fraught subject. If their existence only became public knowledge after the fact of their indiscretions, one could easily imagine it being a scandal that tarnishes entire governments.
• Criminal Justice. While crime is no longer as widespread as it is in our own time due to lack of deprivation, the Federation still practices a form of carceral justice. Better minds than I discuss elsewhere the matters of police and prison abolition. Here is one 21st-century left-wing cause that hasn't yet become obsolete.
• Militarism. A common criticism of Star Trek is that everything in the Federation seems to revolve around Starfleet. While that's partly a limitation of the nature of the show, it raises the question: how true is it really? And how true do the people of the 24th century perceive it to be? How comfortable are civilians with the prominence of Starfleet?

Please use the comments to offer your own insights, or to suggest any issues I may have overlooked.

^A subject about which liberal and left-wing arguments both for and against are so played out as to be not worth any further mention.

In the finale of Picard Season 3, the Titan, armed with a 100 year old cloaking device, manages to successfully evade detection by the Borg controlled fleet. This raises some questions. How on earth is it that the Titan was able to accomplish this with a seemingly obsolete cloaking device?

I postulate two things, the first is that what we call the cloaking device is merely one component in a whole system of invisibility, and the second is that StarFleet was certainly obeying the letter of the treaty (Pegasus and Section 31 aside) by not developing cloaking technology, but was, in reality, building ships ready to accept cloaking devices at a moment's notice.

What do we know about cloaking devices, and how are they defeated? The cloaking device ties into the ship’s deflector shield control (as per TOS: The Enterprise Incident) and it obtains invisibility in part by bending light around the ship (as per comparison to the Aldean planetary shield in TNG: The Bough Breaks and description from DISL Into the Forest I Go)

However, using the deflector shield to remain unobserved does not necessarily require a cloaking device. As per the opening of TOS: Assignment: Earth, the Enterprise was able to use its defector shield to remain unobserved to 20th century technology.

And there are countless examples of a cloaking device being imperfect. The most famous example is likely Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, where a torpedo set to target ionized gas is able to trace down the location of a Bird of Prey, summarized as “The thing has to have a tailpipe.”

But that is not the only example. Detecting energy distortions, subspace radiation, high speed warp signatures from neutrino radiation, and looking for tetryon particles all worked as forms of passive detection. (I will not cover active detection mechanisms such as the tachyon net, as the Borg fleet never deployed them.)

To add to all this, the clocking device is very small. A device about the size and weight of a man can make a ship invisible.

Here I switch to speculation.

First, I suggest that the cloaking device is primarily a computer. It is not the thing which makes the ship invisible - you could plug it into a building and it would not work, unless it has its own projectors. It must be plugged into a ship with a deflector array, to enhance and perfect its ability to make the ship invisible.

Second, the quality of the ship is more important than the quality of the cloaking device. A cloaking device “merely” needs to look at all incoming radiation of all types, and calculate how to move it around the ship for total silence. But it cannot protect against a ship which emits radiation, leaks gas, etc. Thus, a ship designed with high quality shields and high quality emission control will be more stealthy.

Side speculation: The design decision to not use an antimatter core in the first Bird of Prey we see during TOS: Balance of Terror (their power is simple impulse only implies fusion) and the later TNG-era decision to use a forced singularity despite the downsides, may be rooted in the notion that the Romulans felt that emissions from antimatter annihilation were a liability. Selling the Klingons the cloak and not telling them about this problem seems entirely on brand for the Romulan Star Empire.

There is something of an exception here, the phased cloak. A ship out of phase would, presumably, emit radiation which is also out of phase. (Extrapolated from TNG: The Next Phase where Ro shoots Riker in the head and he does not notice.) The phased cloak represented an attempt to fix emission control on a completely new level. But the phased cloak had problems, and is is seemingly a dead end for the ability to fire while cloaked. Plus, research was a treaty violation.

So now we return to the Titan. We know that plugging a 100 year old cloaking device into the Titan produced an invisibility effect which worked admirably. StarFleet may have seemingly kept their commitment to not build ships with cloaking devices, but this was always a hand wave agreement. StarFleet was ready for the day when they needed invisible ships, and having ships ready to accept cloaking devices was seemingly an unspoken but very intentional design consideration.

When the Titan needed to be invisible, she was missing only one piece of the puzzle.

In "Take Me Out to the Holosuite", captains Sisko and Solok form teams of their own crewmen and play a baseball game in one of Quark's holosuites. Unlike most Holosuite programs, the real people involved are extremely spread out, with Rom (in the stands behind home plate) and Dax (climbing the center field fence) at least 450 feet apart at one point, with the dugouts roughly 200 feet apart along the opposite axis. We see the interior of various holosuites in prior episodes and they are nowhere near that large. Does Quark really have close to 100,000 square feet worth of holosuites, or does the holodeck have some special tricks to deal with this sort of situation?

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Enterprise Episode Guide

Season 1

Season 2

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Petrus4's guide to 'Star Trek: Voyager'

Voyager is my favourite Star Trek series, although for most people it seems to be the most infamous. It's bizarre, it's humorous, it often has fairly epic action, to the point of being low-budget Lethal Weapon or Die Hard, IN SPACE! It isn't as strong in the first three seasons as the last four, but there are still some gems to be had. My job is to help you separate the gems from the viscous brown substance that they are hidden in.

The rules are simple. If I mention it, I enjoyed it for some reason or other, and I think you should watch it. Since reading Optical Data's guide on this wiki, I've realised that Voyager actually has a lot more continuity than I thought. I don't list every single episode here which somehow has continuation somewhere else. Instead, I only list those episodes which I personally felt to contain solid entertainment. Some of the episodes I list here are acknowledged as Voyager's worst, and I will usually also admit that as well, where relevant. If those episodes are here, then it usually means that said episodes either still contained some element of humour which I liked, or had continuity which I considered too important to miss.

My Top Ten Episodes

This is the shortest possible version of this guide. If you are coming into Voyager completely blind, and don't want to watch the whole thing, these ten episodes are the true unmissables out of the entire series in my opinion, (in chronological, not preferential order) and will also help you figure out whether or not you want to spend time watching more of them.

Faces

The Thaw

Sacred Ground

Year of Hell

Prey

Timeless

Gravity

Dark Frontier

Equinox

The Void

Season 1

E01S01. Caretaker: Pilot. Boldly going 70,000 light years in order to visit a holographic alien nursing home, and then adopting a homeless love child of the Night Hob from The Never Ending Story, and Hoggle from Labyrinth. Also, we get the series' first recurring Big Bad, who turn out to be Space Rastafarians. Think Psychlos with anorexia, lower technology, and no John Travolta. As Chief Engineer, we also got Roxann Dawson/B'Elanna Torres, who went on to become the most chronic actor/character crush of my existence, so far.

E04S01. Phage: Space lepers steal Neelix's lungs. Janeway rages at space lepers, orders return of lungs. Space lepers can't give them back, but give Neelix holographic lungs instead. Janeway tells space lepers that if she ever encounters them again, she will end them as they have never been ended before. Space lepers look appropriately terrified.

E09S01. Prime Factors: Tuvok becomes insubordinate, and attempts to steal propulsion technology from space swingers.

E10S01. State of Flux: Space Rastafarians first seen in the pilot, blow up their ship after mishandling Federation technology, which they shouldn't have. Voyager has a traitor on board, who turns out to be Chakotay's ex-girlfriend. Small universe.

E13S01. Faces: Voyager provides masturbation material for Klingon fanboys.

E14S01. Jetrel: Voyager asks us a question. What if Robert Oppenheimer and Joseph Mengele had a love child, who was also born as a Talaxian?

Season 2

E01S02. The 37's: Amelia Earhardt and Bill Clinton meet up and shoot the breeze, in the Delta Quadrant.

E03S02. Projections: Voyager tries to provide the audience with the legal simulation of an LSD trip. This won't be the last time.

E05S02. Non Sequitur: Voyager does Sliders.

E10S02. Maneuvers: The next episode in the "Seksa and the Space Rastafarians" arc.

E12S02. Prototype: It's a B'Elanna Torres show. Enough said. Go and watch it immediately.

E16S02. Threshold: Voyager makes its own contribution to the cause of Mystery Science Theatre 3000. Recommended not due to how good it is, but how bad. Do not watch while sober.

E17S02. Meld: Grima Wormtongue makes a special guest star appearance on Voyager, and he's still a psychopath. Tuvok performs a mind meld with him because, as anyone can see, it was obviously the only logical thing he could have done. Chaos, lulz, and general merriment ensues.

E18S02. Dreadnought: It's another B'Elanna Torres episode. You know what I'm going to say, don't you?

E19S02. Death Wish: Q and son show up on Voyager. Serious Business ensues.

E20S02. Lifesigns: One of the space lepers from last season comes aboard Voyager, and temporarily becomes a holographic girlfriend for the Doctor. Romance and mild Glurge ensues.

E22S02. Deadlock: Harry Kim establishes his reputation as Voyager's answer to Kenny from South Park, or Waspinator from Transformers: Beast Wars.

E24S02. The Thaw: What Barney the Dinosaur should have been. Despite my flippant description, this is seriously one of Voyager's greatest episodes in my opinion, even if only because the level of weirdness here exemplifies Voyager's contribution to Trek as a whole. Recommended.

E26S02. Tuvix: Tuvok and Neelix develop an intimate relationship. Janeway gets in touch with her inner Jack Kavorkian.

E28S02. Basics, part 1: Die Hard With a Voyager, part 1. Grima Wormtongue plays Bruce Willis, and we get Space Rastafarians instead of Alan Rickman. Seska sets a trap for Voyager. Chakotay takes acid, has a conversation with his dead father, and as a result, decides that voluntarily falling into Seska's trap would be a good idea. Janeway and the rest of the crew get dumped on a barren planet.

Season 3

E01S03. Basics, part 2: Die Hard With a Voyager, part 2. Grima gets shot in the back with a phaser rifle before he can say, "Yippee Kiyay." Paris and some Talaxians also help save the ship. Voyager goes back and rescues Janeway and the crew, and none of the crew consider staging a mutiny against Janeway and Chakotay for getting them into the situation in the first place. Seska dies, and Space Rastafarians leave for the last time.

E03S03. The Chute: Paris and Kim get sent to a Space Prison and meet a 1960s version of Karl Marx, who's still a homeless person.

E06S03. Remember: B'Elanna Torres/Roxann Dawson episode.

E07S03. Sacred Ground: Voyager does Contact, but also adds a dash of Shirley McClaine's Out On a Limb, and a pinch of Labyrinth.

E08-09S03. Future's End: Voyager meets a time travelling version of Lex Luthor, who looks more like John Farnham. The Doctor gets shot at by some rednecks who think he's a demon, and they get back to the future with the help of a crazy homeless person.

E10S03. Warlord: Kes gets possessed, and then gets dangerous. Kes' finest hour, and the episode which Kes/Jennifer Lien's fans will usually talk about, when they explain why they think she was awesome.

E16S03. Blood Fever: On rewatching this episode, it is a lot more awkward than I remember. The opening scene where Vorik essentially tries to rape B'Elanna is particularly cringe inducing. Most of the rest of the episode is good, and we get continued clues about Tom and B'Elanna's developing relationship, (especially in the final scene) but some of the stuff with Vorik is forced, and just comes across as off-key.

E17S03. Unity: Chakotay goes on summer camp with the Borg.

E18S03. Darkling: The Doctor goes postal. Kes and Neelix break up.

E19S03. Rise: This episode is fairly thin, and doesn't really have much that is exciting or interesting. The one reason why it is worth mentioning, however, is that it has some good character development and interaction between Tuvok and Neelix. Tuvok does not like Neelix, and Neelix confronts Tuvok about this. Personally, I'm not sure how justified I feel this was, simply from the point of view that if there is one thing I've learned about Vulcans, it is that it's completely inappropriate for anyone to expect a Vulcan to react or behave in non-Vulcan terms. Most of the character conflict that occurs with Vulcans, anywhere in Trek, happens for this reason; Humans or some other more emotional race will expect a Vulcan to react to them with Human psychology or emotion, and they will typically then initiate conflict with the Vulcan when that does not occur.

E20S03. Favorite Son: "They killed Harry again! You BASTARDS!" Part Three of Voyager's Trifecta of Doom. Mostly included for surreal comedy value. You may, however, need therapy afterwards.

E21S03. Before and After: Kes' Excellent Adventure.

E22S03. Real Life: The Doctor gets a holographic family. Seriously good episode, from which the Doctor gets a lot of character development.

E25S03. Worst Case Scenario: The last episode of "pre-Seven Voyager", and a decent one at that. Seska comes back for one last encore performance.

E26S03. Scorpion: The point at which Voyager grew the beard according to consensus opinion. The first major appearance of the Borg, and Trek's first non-rubber headed alien race. Strong action, very nice CGI for the time, and a decent story. John Rhys-Davies is seen for the first time as a hologram of Leonardo DaVinci.