# of episodes
episode average
26
3.59
series Top 20
series Flop 20
3 episodes
2 episodes
EPISODE SUMMARY
5.26-6.1 Equinox, I-II
6.2 Survival Instinct
6.3 Barge of the Dead
6.4 Tinker, Tenor, Doctor, Spy
6.5 Alice
6.6 Riddles
6.7 Dragon's Teeth
6.8 One Small Step
6.9 The Voyager Conspiracy
6.10 Pathfinder
6.11 Fair Haven
6.12 Blink of an Eye
6.13 Virtuoso
6.14 Memorial
6.15 Tsunkatse
6.16 Collective
6.17 Spirit Folk
6.18 Ashes to Ashes
6.19 Child's Play
6.20 Good Shepherd
6.21 Live Fast and Prosper
6.22 Muse
6.23 Fury
6.24 Life Line
6.25 The Haunting of
Deck Twelve
MUST-SEE
5.26-6.1 equinox, i-ii
Voyager rescue another Starfleet vessel stranded in the Delta Quadrant, whose crew has committed a grave crime.
A daring premise is developed into a thrilling action flick with some highs and few lows, but also one that lacks a moral center and that seems to go out of its way to avoid tackling the superbly interesting issues that it raises. We always knew that Voyager may not have been the only Federation vessel targeted by the Caretaker, so this plot was always a possibility. Surely, if it was going to happen, the journey of the other ship must be different enough from Voyager’s for us to care about it. The episode does this admirably. All things considered, Voyager was lucky. It had a continuous journey and hardly lost any of its crew after the initial confrontation. This, in large part, allowed Janeway to run a tight ship and to preserve Starfleet protocol. But what if another ship weren’t so lucky? How far would Starfleet be willing to go to preserve itself under the worst possible circumstances?
Enter the Equinox, who lost half its crew in a week and limped home for five years. They dealt with their struggle by systematically murdering alien beings to develop new propulsion technology, and their remaining crew has gotten used to this fact. This contrast makes for excellent drama, much of it driven by well-written original characters. Part I contains a few interesting discussions on the nature of choice, especially between the captains, although they never get very deep and always feel like they’re scratching the surface of a much more complex issue. Were the Equinox crew forced into this, as Ransom says? What would Janeway have done in their place? We’ve seen many times that she’s willing to blow up the ship rather than let it harm innocents, so I’m surprised that this script’s debate never goes quite that far. “What would you have done?” Ransom may ask. “We would have died rather than kill,” Janeway may respond. “Are you sure?” Ransom may say. And so on. It would have been interesting. Instead, we get lukewarm convos that focus mostly on the emotions associated with killing innocents and with following leaders... which are cool, don’t get me wrong, but fairly commonplace.
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But perhaps the episode’s most disappointing turn is Part II’s reversal. As Ransom grows a conscience, Janeway loses hers, and neither is explained well at all. After kidnapping Seven, Ransom begins having visions that represent his conscience. But why now? What is his subconscious arguing that changes his mind virtually overnight? It takes literally under three minutes of on-screen time for Ransom to turn, and there is no explanation. Likewise, Janeway turns sour out of nowhere. I get being pissed at Ransom, but right out of the blue she’s willing to torture and kill in order to catch him. Huh?! If the script was trying to comment on the fact that she is susceptible to the same pressures that pushed him to do what he did, this is such an awful way to go about it. All the work that was set up in Part I to frame the juxtaposition of good vs. bad Starfleet captains becomes mired in some tired-ass shouting matches between captains and first officers.
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What does remain excellent throughout is the action. The VFX are great and there is never a dull moment, so at least the episode is watchable and entertaining to the very end. But there is a strong feeling that it could have been so much more, a post-facto commentary on Starfleet’s mission and on the predicament of Voyager over the past five years. That, in the end, is what stings. Season cliffhangers are meant to renew the lease on the show by giving it new purpose, but this one does not. The characters learn nothing new and we gain no new insight. Too bad.
SKIPPABLE
6.2 SURVIVAL INSTINCT
Seven acquires a piece of Borg technology that brings back unpleasant memories of a crisis in the Collective.
Yet another origin story for Seven, this one focused on her time with the Collective rather than her human childhood. And, once more, we get the feeling that this sort of plot arc should have happened much earlier. Not because it was necessary, but because it addresses a step of her character development that by S6 is already in the past. It’s about Seven’s fear of individuality and how far she was willing to go to defend her Borg identity. That’s cool and all, but this doesn’t create a problem for her now, as she is sufficiently confident. In fact, the story does not present a dire and distraught Seven who questions her past, which by now would be quite out of character. As a result, the script is forced to focus on the three alien guests who were ex-Borg, and their story is not nearly as compelling.
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While I do like the foundational conundrum (that it was Seven to re-assimilate the others and delete their newfound individualities), unfortunately it’s buried under a ton of procedural technobabble that doesn’t make for a satisfactory introspection. Seven’s guilt is not explored in any depth, and the aliens’ drama is too fabricated to be effective. The occasional emphasis on family, especially via Naomi, is also too superficial to mean something more, and the episode as a whole feels hastily put together. Too bad, because it was a valid idea that deserved more.
SKIPPABLE
6.3 BARGE OF THE DEAD
A near-death experience finds Torres on the verge of entering Klingon hell, along with her dead mother.
For the third season in a row, the third episode is a Torres backstory focusing on her Klingon heritage, her fears and insecurities, or both. There were pros and cons to both S4’s “Day of Honor” and S5’s “Extreme Risk,” and the same is true here. Once more, the authors (Moore and Fuller in this case) don’t seem to realize the potential and string together a haphazard mood piece that’s entertaining but that sidesteps all the interesting issues. For one, the continuous back-and-forth of real-or-no-real is tiresome and does not belong to an episode supposedly centered on spiritual exploration. This was, in part, the problem with S3’s “Coda,” which was however more effective. It would have been better if, say, the entire episode was a near-death experience and if that fact was only revealed at the very end. Instead, there is hardly any time to analyze what happens before the scene changes and some new technical problem is introduced. That’s frustrating and disappointing.
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On the plus side, the setting is remarkable and realized with excellent skill. The titular barge is a great idea and genuinely awe-inspiring. VOY and DS9 did well to expand on Klingon myth, and this is one its best visual depictions. Likewise, even if they are superficial, some of Torres’ reflections are intriguing. Her ever-present mommy issues are given some new depth and a spiritual twist, which is good, as we know that much of her problem with the Klingon half is cultural. Unfortunately, this part too emphasizes spectacle rather than analysis. Instead of focusing on the silly idea of redeeming one’s parents’ dishonor for oneself, it may have been better to discuss why Torres and her mom never saw eye to eye in the first place. What is it about Klingon beliefs that alienates B’Elanna so? How did religion figure in their family relationship? There’s no better time to talk about this, and yet their differences are merely taken for granted and used as background to a story that, by itself, is just not that interesting. So although there is a lot in this episode that deserves praise, and although it’s occasionally fun, once again it feels like a missed opportunity to do more... which is pretty much VOY’s leitmotiv.
WORTH WATCHING
6.4 TINKER, TENOR, DOCTOR, SPY
An alien species mistakes Doc's daydreams for reality.
While many late-run VOY episodes are less than the sum of their parts, this is the rare case of one that is more. Everything here has been tried before. Doc messes with his program and screws up? At least 3-4 times. Aliens mistake holograms or for reality? At least 2-3 times. Slapstick comedy and accidental hero trope? Same deal. Yet this episode’s blend of all these elements is surprisingly successful, as it delivers an entertaining story that isn’t too saddled with nonsense.
I am forever amazed by VOY’s ability to deliver high-quality tragicomics that rival and often surpass the high bar set by Garak in DS9. The Doctor is a true anti-hero, at once hilarious and dramatic, and hardly fails a scene. The opera parody of “La donna e’ mobile” is an instant classic, and even the more traditional sex-comedy bits are handled tastefully (“Don’t expect me to pose for you”). It was also a good decision to portray the aliens-of-the-week in a lighthearted way: while they are no doubt a threat, they’re quirky and original, which is a good match for the overall vibe of the episode. All these elements lead to a decently fun development and a highly entertaining resolution. The obvious downside is that the episode has very little to say. The usual story of Doc wanting more responsibilities gets old soon, although the scene where Janeway realizes his love for the crew is well done.
SERIES FLOP 20
6.5 ALICE
Paris acquires from a trader a derelict alien shuttle with a neurogenic interface that allows him to control the ship with his mind... but he begins to suspect that the ship is alive.
This episode is pretty much Stephen King’s Christine in space, but if possible it’s even worse than its alleged inspiration. It employs the odious trope of a character who is affected by some spooky presence that is obvious to everyone but himself, and which eventually pushes him to do something stupid or dangerous. I call this odious because there is a big disconnect between what the audience knows and what the rest of the characters know, so we are forced to go along with the story even though we know exactly what’s going on and what’s going to happen. This would not be so bad if the underlying psychological drama were good, but that is not the case here. Paris’ possession by Alice is not motivated by anything, either related to himself (e.g., if he had succumbed to her because of some weakness that he has to learn to overcome) or to her (e.g., if there was a damn reason why she does what she does other than “going home” to a nondescript anomaly). The result is that we don’t know why we’re supposed to care about what happens.
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It doesn’t help that the supporting characters and events are so bland. This is yet another Paris-Torres fight determined by one of them being possessed or altered in some way, so it is moot. And while the alien trader figure is funny, it is nothing we haven’t seen before with better results. In the end, the whole episode is pretty much forgettable.
SKIPPABLE
6.6 riddles
After an attack by an invisible alien species, Tuvok suffers severe neurological damage and Neelix tries to aid in his slow and painful recovery.
Every now and then, the writing team remember that they have the Neelix-Tuvok duality to explore, and they write an episode about it. Unfortunately, it ends up being almost always the same episode: Tuvok is too logical and needs to loosen up, and/or Neelix is too jovial and needs to get serious. We’ve been watching the same thing for five years, and it’s getting trite. Plus, as someone with a genuine appreciation for Vulcan philosophy and lifestyle, I find Neelix supremely annoying and I wish that Tuvok would just nerve-pinch his ass on a regular basis.
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This episode has a further problem by focusing on a mentally incapacitated side of Tuvok. While we’re supposed to believe that this version is somehow “better” or more liberating, it is actually ableist as fuck. It exists merely to elicit sympathy for a simpleton, in the way that Forrest Gump makes able-minded neurotypicals feel better about themselves by objectifying disability. There’s nothing endearing, kind, or funny about Tuvok’s injury or Neelix’s treatment. It would be different if this so-called injury were able to unlock a completely different personality, such as if his long-held logical barriers and emotional discipline were somehow nullified and the new Tuvok were simply different, but the script muddies its own waters by making intellectual disability the biggest problem, and that is just terrible. Not to mention there was already another episode of that kind, and we all know what happens in S2’s infamous “Tuvix.” (For that matter, the ending of this episode replicates that one, with less drama and less of the Janeway murder thing).
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In the end, this episode’s only saving grace is, ironically, the main sci-fi plot. Even though it’s a basic alien-of-the-week story, it’s intriguing and somewhat novel. The scene where the tentacled alien’s cloaking device is revealed is quite creepy, and the eventual chase and resolution are entertaining. This is meager consolation, but it does help raise the episode’s score a bit.
MUST-SEE
6.7 DRAGON'S TEETH
Voyager revive the last holdouts of an alien race who have been in hibernation for almost 900 years.
A highly innovative story with a classic sci-fi feel. The premise for landing the ship is far-fetched and the technobabble doesn’t quite hold up throughout the episode, but the core plot elements are well developed. The script drops small hints during the first half that the Vaadwaur are militaristic proto-fascists: seemingly polished but jingoistic and aggressive. So when the big reveal comes, it feels like a natural outcome of what we’ve seen. I also like that it is introduced through both cultural means (Neelix’s ethno-linguistic investigations into Talaxian lore) and accidental ones (Naomi’s reports as well as Gedrin’s comments about his wife). As a result, the villains are believable and interesting, which is not a given in this show.
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While Gedrin’s eventual change of heart is a bit rushed, I appreciate that it grows out of disillusionment with his comrades and not from lessons learned at the knee of Starfleet. This allows the script to avoid the usual white-savior nonsense by not depicting an alien so impressionable as to be willing to toss away a whole lifetime of convictions after a few hours’ worth of talking to Federation types. Indeed, all three major alien parties in this episode --- Gedrin, Gaul, and the Toroi captain --- are sensible and well-written, and this goes a long way toward making the story feel like it belongs to the universe in which it takes place.
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That being said, it’s the action that truly makes this episode. From the pacing of the script to the VFX, from the musical score to the battle scenes, everything falls into place just-so. The Vaadwaur planet in the midst of nuclear winter is rendered very well, although not to the level of detail of S7’s spooky “Friendship One.” The Vaadwaur feel like they have a clear identity, and that’s a big feat to accomplish in just a few minutes for a species that had never been mentioned before... nor will it be again, despite Janeway’s final comment that she doubts we’ve seen the last of them. We have, and that’s good, because the ending shows a live Quadrant where species fight, come, and go regardless of the involvement of Voyager.
MUST-SEE
6.8 ONE SMALL STEP
Voyager encounter an anomaly that engulfed a Mars mission spacecraft in the 21st century.
A delightful love letter to space exploration in general and today’s space program in particular. “We were right to come out here,” as per Capt. Kelly, which captures much of what Starfleet is about. But it is also a return to the origins for Star Trek as a whole, which in addition to its top-notch social commentary has always been about exploration, from the five-year mission to the strange new worlds. Although this is an excellent Voyager episode, it feels more like an Enterprise episode, the ST show that best portrays the human desire for exploration.
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Even on its own, it’s a remarkable installment. Seven’s characterization may be a tad late, as she is depicted to be further behind in her social skills than one might expect by this point. But her arc is still impressive, and the script does a good job at showing progress scene after scene, so her final farewell to Kelly on the bridge is extremely touching. The other characters also fare well, from Chakotay to Paris, and no-one’s role is wasted. But for all the valid characterization, I am fond of how a script about exploration would be itself centered on exploration. It has a simple plot: get in the strange thing, find cool stuff, get out of the strange thing. Whatever technobabble is used, it’s in service of this plot, and the result is effective and full of wonderment and fascination. Sentimental, for sure, but in the best way.
MUST-SEE
6.9 THE VOYAGER CONSPIRACY
Seven thinks she uncovered a plot to deceive Voyager.
In this age of post-truth, QAnon, and increasingly unhinged conspiracy theories, this episode should be required viewing. It does an exceptional job at presenting the psychology of conspiracism and analyzing the logical underpinnings of faulty reasoning. Seven’s descent into epistemic malfunction is gradual, and each step is sensible. First it’s the photonic flies, a wild guess that turns out to be right. Then it’s the tetryon power core, an even wilder guess that is also validated, so Seven is two for two, feels encouraged, and the rest of the crew have some reason to buy into her next conclusion... which is precisely how conspiracism works.
Its victims do not start from insane statements like “the Jews are lizard people,” but work their way up to those. The road to conspiracist hell is paved with half-truths and highly generalized unfalsifiable claims. As an example, consider the Kennedy assassination. Is there evidence of a coverup? Yes. Is the Warren report flawed? Yes. This is evidence that something is amiss. Conspiracists then take all this evidence way out of context and piggyback increasingly insane scenarios on it. It’s a surprisingly quick step from “the gov’t wants to maintain secrecy about a high-profile political assassination” (a sensible claim) to “the mafia had Kennedy killed because Castro is an alien” (an insane idea). And indeed, the core appeal of conspiracism is not the capacity to prove a claim, but other people’s incapacity to prove otherwise. Do I know that the moon landing wasn’t faked? Of course I don’t. Hence, it was faked. Except that it doesn’t work that way. As Janeway observes correctly, Seven will find a way to subsume anything she says under one of her hypotheses. This is what we philosophers call an unjustified shift in the burden of proof. Although it should always rest with the claimant, it is often offloaded onto the critic, especially if the claim at hand is wildly unsupported (e.g., the existence of God, or holocaust denial). Seven’s claims are indeed wild, but the process by which she comes to believe them is depicted with great accuracy.
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Viewers typically complain that it is absurd for Janeway and Chakotay to put any stock into her theories whatsoever, but I do not agree. When a conspiracist is not stupid, they can make an incredibly convincing case; and while it would certainly fall apart under close scrutiny, on a military starship in the midst of a crisis one is not necessarily in the best position to analyze things that deeply. Plus, it’s not like Janeway and Chakotay begin a ship-wide conflict. They take limited and cautious steps out of an abundance of caution, and as soon as they compare notes, their suspicions disappear. So, if anything, the script handles the situation with poise and realism.
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The resolution is also excellent. Since Janeway cannot convince Seven, she must rely on trust. This is so wonderful precisely because these days, in 2023, so many social justice movements are shifting away from the sophistry of argumentations to embrace what Gloria Anzaldúa calls spiritual activism. You will never convince your QAnon-obsessed boomer parent to change his mind, but you can love them until they do, because deep down conspiracism is a psychological insecurity, not an epistemic fault. By not trying to defeat Seven, and instead speaking gently to her until she comes back, Janeway embodies this idea so very well, which gives the episode a much-needed human dimension and resolution.
MUST-SEE
6.10 PATHFINDER
Lt. Barclay at Starfleet Command thinks he has found a way to establish communications with Voyager.
This is the episode that S4’s “Message in a Bottle” should have been. The first communication with the Alpha Quadrant must be momentous, a monument to the crew’s suffering and resilience over the years. And while I would have preferred an action-packed two-parter where making contact was a hard-won victory against some formidable opponent, at least this episode understands --- as “Message” did not --- that Voyager’s deep existential struggle to contact home must take center stage. Here this desire is offloaded onto a third party, which initially may feel like a mistake: is this their story or is Barclay’s? Yet it works just fine, because Barclay cares about Voyager as much as we, the audience, do. Barclay is a placeholder for all of us watching from the behind the fourth wall, for we all want to come up with some Star Trek mumbo-jumbo to let our heroes come home after five years in exile. And since Barclay is such a fan-favorite and Schultz feels like he was born to play this role, channeling the audience’s emotional attachment toVoyager through him makes perfect sense, and I applaud this choice.
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Although Barclay’s holodeck relapse story treads familiar ground, there is little or no redundancy, as his obsession is actually a genuine concern and the holodeck is merely the way in which he channels it. It is also nice to see that his relationship with Troi evolves past TNG’s incel vibes and into a lovely friendship. I am not too crazy about the “injustice porn” trope where the asshole boss doesn’t believe the heroic employee, but that too works well here thanks to McGonagle’s understated performance and the fact that the emphasis remains on Barclay’s insistence on communicating with Voyager. The crew holo-characters clearly only exist to give series regulars more than four on-screen minutes at the end, but they provide fine comic relief along the lines of Barclay’s old holo-fantasies in TNG.
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Of course, this episode lives and dies with its ending, and I think it’s a slam dunk. Janeway’s gesture to Tuvok to send Starfleet logs and readings during what she knows will be a criminally short conversation is a masterpiece of subtlety. and the content of the conversation itself is essential and intelligent. I love that Adm. Paris is so involved in the plot, since he’s the only family member of a protagonist that is regularly mentioned, so his presence adds welcome continuity. The overall feel is that Voyager has finally achieved what it long wished for: one moment of hope and the knowledge that they are not alone anymore. And while it would take the show a good while longer to get Starfleet back into the plot, this is an excellent first step and what I had been waiting for since the beginning of the show.
WORTH WATCHING
6.11 FAIR HAVEN
Paris' new holodeck program of an Irish village is popular with the crew, and especially with the Captain...
While I usually concur with the various “worst-of” lists, in this case I don’t. I think this is a delightful and gentle script, lighthearted but not naïve, and that succeeds in tackling a couple of interesting issues in a non-banal, but surely not deep, way. One is the captain’s romance options. I’ve been saying it forever: MY GIRL KATIE NEEDS TO GET LAID. If it was a man, he’d’ve gotten his share of alien genitals by now, but with a woman in the big chair the showrunners needed to be careful with a load of gossip and stereotypes from what is essentially a nation of prudes. They even wrote in a fail-safe in the pilot: she has a boo waiting at home; and when the boo wrote her a Dear John, she was too forlorn to look at others; and when she did look (the fascist Kashyk), it was part of a ploy to fool him. Janeway doesn’t sleep around; in fact, she doesn’t let her hair down at all. TNG dealt with a similar issue with tact and panache in “Lessons,” though by then Picard had gotten laid a few times already. Not Janeway. Michael Sullivan is the perfect choice of a partner for her, as it gives us an opportunity to discuss what she looks for in a partner and to what extent she will compromise. The hallway conversation with the Doctor about potential mates stands out as one of the better Janeway char-dev moments in the entire season, and for that, this episode must be praised.
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The other issue is the recreational needs of the crew as a whole. So far we’ve seen holodeck programs for the enjoyment of everyone (e.g., Chez Sandrine) and those for Tom’s own pleasure (e.g., Captain Proton). Fair Haven is among the former, but it takes an even more collective bent with the introduction of the open-door policy. This is as close as VOY ever gets to discussing social media and the psycho-social nature of literature, two topics that (understandably) are not at the forefront of the writers’ minds in a sci-fi action show. I love that several characters find a space in the village and almost begin to live alternate lives there, a concept that the sequel “Spirit Folk” would also pick up on, albeit less successfully. I also like the typical sci-fi technobabble-heavy secondary plot line where the mother of all ion storms forces the crew to “batten down the hatches” and find solace in isolation. While it may not be the most creative means, it illustrates perfectly what it must be like to be stuck on a tiny ship with essentially only the holodecks for fun. The ending with the technical damage to the program is silly, but not any more so than what we’ve seen in the past, so I’m pretty forgiving about it.
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And even if all of that was not enough to convince naysayers (not that it was ever my goal, mind), this episode contains Janeway’s single best line of dialogue in the entire show: “Delete the wife.” As an amateur writer, I aspire one day to be able to compose something so succinctly comical and so perfectly timed.
SERIES BEST EPISODE
6.12 BLINK OF AN EYE
Voyager are stuck orbiting a planet where time flows faster and a day passes each second.
This episode is a masterpiece of science-fiction whose philosophical brilliance is rivaled only by its dramatic flair. I have assigned it in my classes for fifteen years and it never fails to spark a high level of debate, for underneath a basic plot lies a deep-seated reflection on the nature of existence. Yes, there are shortcomings in the writing. For example, the initial premise of “one day = one second” is twisted several times to serve the plot; and the speed and the character of the planet’s technological evolution is occasionally inconsistent; and the characterization is necessarily barebones to make room for the plot. These problems are definitely there, and I think it is justifiable if they lower the score for some reviewers. But in my assessment they pale in comparison to the depth of the story being told.
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The episode’s main theme is clearly the fleeting nature of humanity: here one day, gone the next, and what seems like eons to us is gone in the titular blink of an eye in the cosmos, like a single star disappearing in the night sky. The script depicts it in primarily two ways. The first is purely Star Trek, full of technobabble about time differentials and tachyon cores. While occasionally cumbersome, it creates a few memorable scenes, such as when Chakotay and Torres witness the rise and fall of civilizations through a probe’s telemetry, or when Seven watches the development of anti-matter technology in a matter of seconds. Surely, these scenes do not rise to the level of elegiac poetry seen in (say) the time travel sequences from 2002’s The Time Machine, but they are still wondrous. The second way is the portrayal of the aliens through four stages of progress: hunter-gatherers, bronze age, industrial age, and space age. There is a strong recall to the fiction of A.C. Clarke and to Sid Meier’s game series Civilization in these sequences, as each new civilization is so clearly distinct and yet bearing similar traits. I love, too, that the species follows a generally enlightened trajectory, culminating in Gotana-Retz’s spiritual astronaut, a not-too-subtle hint that all civilizations would grow to be peace-loving under the influence of the Federation...
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The other major theme, of course, is the influence of Voyager in the planet’s social development. It’s so funny that Tuvok says making contact with the aliens would violate the Prime Directive. Biiiitch y’all have pretty much thrown it out the airlock already! Fast forward fifty years, they’re teaching this at the Academy: “that time when Janeway made her ship a god for a whole planet for millennia? yeah that is an extreme case, but good example, Cadet.” Although may be the most egregious PD violation in the history of the franchise, the episode rightfully emphasizes the positive influence of cosmic phenomena. Whether it’s Voyager, the stars, the sun, a distant galaxy, or some variety of gods, the unknown has a powerful pull on the imagination. The “Sky Ship” represents every person’s excitement at the Apollo program, each darkened glass during an eclipse, every upturned nose at Halley and SL-9. The script goes further, and portrays the social changes on the planet from a clearly religious perspective (the shaman), a political one (the protector), a scientific one (the astronomers), and an exploratory/futuristic one (the astronaut). I think this is deliberate, and there is a delightfully stimulating conceptual rhythm in each act that is so, so pleasing to follow once you realize it’s there.
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On top of this all, the episode is excellent from an artistic standpoint, too. Despite the minor shortcomings, condensing such a broad-ranging story in 44 minutes is a stupendous feat of writing, Menosky’s best in his distinguished Trek career. The direction by Beaumont is at once sensitive and sensible, emphasizing all the right things and providing good pacing and commentary throughout. Daniel Dae Kim is not yet a star here, but he was always a good actor and it already shows, and I doubt that Gotana-Retz would have been such a powerful character without him. Bell​’s musical score is also top-notch.
Overall, there is very little to dislike here. I do not exaggerate when I say that this is the best Voyager episode. While no doubt there are others that capture more closely the Trek essence of the show (e.g., "Scorpion," which is definitely in my top 5), this is the better purely sci-fi installment of the series. It speaks to almost all of the themes that characterized the golden age of science-fiction, and it does so without some of the glamorous pessimism that came to define the genre in the post-atomic age. Instead, it presents a flourishing, glorious picture of humanity in the cosmos, and it does so through a simple and gentle story that does everything almost completely right without major pitfalls. That is a huge success in my book.
WORTH WATCHING
6.13 VIRTUOSO
The crew encounter a species who has no knowledge of music, and Doc does the honors of introducing them to it.
VOY’s penchant for comedic sci-fi reaches new heights in this delightfully attuned (ha) episode that excels at just about everything: an original setting and premise, an alien species that doesn’t make me think I’ve seen them a million times before, several fun musical numbers, and a Doc-centered plot of some value. In fact, the latter may be the weaker link, not because it’s bad, but because we’ve seen it so many times already. Doc tries to evolve, gets more than he bargained for, comes back into the fold, apologizes and/or sulks, the end. This time there’s more drama (some of which feels phony) than usual, as he literally tries to leave Voyager, but the basic plot structure remains the same. And just like in previous installments, I feel that the whole thing could have been forestalled by a simple conversation… which, come think of it, is also true of most real-life relationships.
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Despite this shortcoming, the episode delivers in troves where it matters, and that is comedy. It may be difficult to imagine a species that does not know music and yet possess vocal speech, but it is definitely possible. If anything, I wish the script had delved more into how such a thing could happen, although it may be difficult to discuss semiotics in layman’s terms. Still, the Qomar are a comedic goldmine and the script takes advantage of it. Picardo delivers several lovely performances ranging from labor songs to bel canto opera. The musical selection is absolutely on point. Surely they’re all catchy tunes that appeal to beginners, but more than that, each describes a different emotion --- melancholy, joy, love, sadness --- and that is a very important choice to get right in an episode centered on depicting the cultural value of artistic expression, so well done on that score. Overall, it could have been better, and it could have been more serious, but instead it chose to be lighthearted and a little derivative; but given the end result, that’s okay.
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Doctor Isn’t #8: Torres to Doc: “I’m an engineer, not a costume designer.”
SERIES TOP 20
6.14 memorial
Chakotay, Paris, Kim, and Neelix suddenly experience traumatic memories of fighting in an alien war.
A mature drama that foregoes a traditional plot in favor of a careful exploration of trauma processing, historical memory, and cultural memorialization. It’s the last of many VOY episodes that deal with these topics, and most are in my Top 20 : “Resistance” (S2), “Remember” and “Distant Origin” (S3), and “Nemesis” and “Living Witness” (S4). This one blends the finest elements from “Remember” (aliens transmitting knowledge of a past atrocity) and “Nemesis” (crewmembers shouldering the weight of an alien war) into a cohesive whole that has a lot to say.
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Perhaps the most obvious emphasis is on PTSD and trauma processing. We see several different reactions, from Paris’ anger to Neelix’s fear and Kim’s guilt, and all are explored thoroughly and compatibly with the characters. The Paris-Torres scenes will be familiar to anyone living with a severely mentally ill person, whom one wants to help but cannot reach. Paris’ distress and Torres’ helplessness are portrayed beautifully through a few simple dialogues. Likewise, Neelix channels his fear by protecting what is dearest to him, which is Naomi, an illustration of the classic (perhaps stereotypical by now) axiom that “hurt people hurt people.” It is also wonderful that while Tuvok cannot get to him, Chakotay can because he has just recently begun experiencing the same thing, showing that one must be on the same experiential level to truly understand someone else.
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This, of course, is also the emphasis of the theme of testimony. Both “Remember” and “Nemesis” made a similar argument, that to know a thing it is not enough to learn about it: one must live it . This episode even makes that explicit through the inscription on the memorial: “Words alone cannot convey.” This epistemic gap of first-hand experience and theoretical knowledge is a well-known disconnect in the fields of philosophy and history. It’s not just the obvious fact that one cannot learn to swim from a book, but that our historical knowledge is necessarily incomplete because the socio-cultural conditions of an event are lost forever and impossible to replicate. So while we can read about the Holocaust or visit Birkenau, we can’t grasp the enormity of what the Holocaust means. This is why historical witnesses are important, and apparently why this alien species has decided to create more witnesses long after the original ones passed away. This is exceptionally inspired storytelling that the script manages to make clear.
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Closely related to that topic is that of memorialization. Museum curators, among others, know that representation is interpretation and that the very choice of what to memorialize and how is greatly influential to the stories we tell each other. Just think of recent (2023) controversies about Confederate monuments in the U.S. On this topic the episode says relatively little, save for a good debate at the end. The basic positions are outlined clearly: what right do we have to shut it down vs. what right did they have to make us relive all that without our consent. In the end it is Janeway’s universalism that prevails: any person anywhere is affected by the actions of all persons everywhere, so the memorial is as much the business of Starfleet as of those who built it. If anything, I’m a bit disappointed that the most vocal dissent comes from Chakotay, who is an anthropologist and ought to know better, but that’s a forgivable oversight.
WORTH WATCHING
6.15 TSUNKATSE
Seven is abducted and forced to fight for her life in an alien martial arts program that's popular across the sector.
Definitely a filler episode, but original and entertaining. It is a quintessential “Delta Quadrant” story, as I doubt that anything like a fighting ring would be so popular or even allowed by the Federation in the Alpha or Beta Quadrants, but it figures quite well in the frontier setting that the VOY authors sometimes remember they have to deal with. There is much to love about this episode. The basic premise is actually novel and not a rehash of something we’ve seen before in ST. I also love that there seems to be no gender differences among the fighters, so we see Seven fight men twice her size and strength. And then there’s The Rock, so need I say more? It’s funny, though, that he is not the “final boss” and that he doesn’t have a more prominent role. Perhaps a sign-on condition was that he not lose? The end is sufficiently Trek when Seven decides to spare the Hirogen, and I like the emphasis on affirming her humanity through a difficult affirmation of her moral fiber.
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On the other hand, there's little plot to speak of and the usual technobabble-heavy antics are boring. Janeway’s absence and last-minute return are quite contrived, as are most scenes that don’t involve Seven or the Tsunkatse ring (with the one exception of some good repartee among Chakotay, Torres, Paris, and Kim toward the beginning). All in all, if one doesn’t expect much of this episode and takes it as lightly as it was conceived and exectued, it will not disappoint.
SKIPPABLE
6.16 collective
Four crewmembers are imprisoned aboard a Borg cube populated by five juvenile drones who haven't finished maturing.
This episode isn’t so much bad as it is ill-conceived. When the Seven plot arc was developed into the show’s de facto main story, some lamented that the Borg idea was being over-exploited and that the fearsome mystery of the galaxy’s scourge was being lost. I’m not sure I agree, as VOY did much to flesh out a species whose TNG and movie incarnations were pretty basic. But it’s true that the normalization of the Borg was an unwelcome side effect, and nowhere is that clearer than here. When I think Borg, I don’t think children. At worst, child characters are annoying; at best, they are inspirational for adults. These drones are neither. The leader isn’t scary or threatening in any way and the younger kids aren't cute or inspirational in any way, so what exactly is the purpose here? Given the eventual development of Icheb into a full-fledged guest character on the show, perhaps the goal here was to provide him an origin story of sorts. But hindsight is 20/20. and this script alone definitely does not feel centered on Icheb in any particular way.​
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The problem, then, is that it’s not centered on anything else. Much is done about Chakotay, Paris, Kim, and Neelix’s capture in the first act, and then all of them but Kim disappear for a whole 30 minutes, so whatever emotional investment we are supposed to have in the safety of the hostages is pretty much moot. Kim’s rescue attempt is similarly misguided, as it ends up serving zero purpose to the plot. So we are left with the relationship between Seven and the juvenile drones, which is interesting enough, I guess, but not for a whole episode, and not when the upshot is basically “you too can learn to become individuals.” As if we hadn’t seen that story a gazillion times on ST before. The only semblance of depth is when Seven and Janeway discuss how Seven was able to become an individual because her own Borg maturation endowed her with sufficient mental prowess, but that too had been done before, and it​​ is definitely not enough to rescue an episode that just shouldn’t have been done in the first place.
SKIPPABLE
6.17 SPIRIT FOLK
The characters of the Fair Haven simulation become convinced that the Voyager crew are demons from the otherworld.
The sequel to “Fair Haven” is a step down from its much-maligned predecessor. It has some of the perks and many of the drawbacks, and it is largely unsuccessful at recapturing its comedic appeal. The premise is not bad on its face. ST has had its share of the hologram-comes-alive trope, but most episodes in that vein involve circumventing the characters and shutting down the program. Instead, this script decides to face the problem head-on, explain the situation, and find a solution that preserves the program and its relation to the crew. In this sense, it marks a return to the origins, as the first accidentally-sentient hologram, Professor Moriarty, was also not defeated in a traditional way but rather reasoned with.
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The problem is that this episode has almost none of the appeal of its forerunners. There is almost no psychological or philosophical reflection, which would be fine if there was any worthy comedy, but alas there isn’t that either. The funniest gag is when Paris turns Maggie O’Halloran into a cow, so the bar is nice and low. Alas, a mob of drunken Irish townies chasing Paris and Kim with literal pitchforks is not anyone’s idea of entertainment, not because it is low-brow (I did just praise that lovely clusterfuck “Tsunkatse,” after all), but because it’s stilted and procedural. So while I was definitely a fan of “Fair Haven” against the grind, on this episode I must agree with the vast majority of reviewers who consider it a failure.
WORTH WATCHING
6.18 ASHES TO ASHES
A woman claims to be long-dead Ensign Ballard, whose corpse was recovered and revived by an alien species.
A highly original premise and a terrific guest performance by Kim Rhodes result in an episode that is very good but falls just short of greatness because the authors (Wilkerson and Doherty) are gun-shy and don’t take the plot as far as it could go. The concept of an alien species who procreate by reanimating dead tissue is just fascinating. I wish there would have been a line or two about how they developed this habit, such as from prolonged natural infertility or religious doctrine. There is no scarcity of dead tissue floating around the galaxy, so it makes sense that some species find use for it, and I would’ve liked to know more about it. Alas, that is not the only time that the script fails to do the Kobali justice. The chosen focus is on cultural belonging. Ballard used to be a human being, with human habits and a human history, but is now Kobali, with a Kobali family, habits, and a body that she can’t accept. At one point, she describes herself as a ghost, not quite human but not quite Kobali, either. From this standpoint, the script does a very good job at depicting her cultural and existential struggle...
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...but the Kobali half of this struggle is too simplistic. We get many minutes’ worth of Kim and Ballard reminiscing, bonding, and hooking up, but precious little about Jeth’leya and her Kobali family. We know she has a sister and that she’s still good at engineering, and that’s it. So when she decides to give up humans for good and return to the Kobali, it’s a tough sell. I get that it is difficult to integrate, but many people find their life to be quite “alienating” even without going through what she did, so surely there must have been some Kobali appeal in going back --- someone who loves her, a career, a cherished place, anything --- and the fact that we don’t see any of it weakens the force of her eventual choice. That’s such a pity, because Ballard is a wonderful character, written with nuance and portrayed sensitively by Rhodes’ stupendous performance. She hits all the right notes and is able to show a complex gamut of emotions with poise and propriety. The script is occasionally derivative --- there are fully three scenes of Ballard storming out of rooms when she gets overwhelmed, a sexist trope that’s so old and tired I can’t even begin to talk about how much I hate it --- but Rhodes does a great job with what she does have. Also, it’s nice to see Kim involved in a non-toxic relationship for once, and his reactions are more mature than we’ve come to expect from his character.
With all said and done, I wish that this episode had taken itself more seriously. It follows a classic Trek trope where a meaningful character is introduced and then dismissed in the space of one episode because obviously it can​not continue living on the ship... except it totally could. For example, the Borg kids became recurring guest stars, and the surviving crewmembers from the Equinox remained as part of the Voyager crew. And although they formed meaningful relationships with the series regulars, they were never seen again. That would be just fine. The audience is mature enough to understand that those characters are still there and are just not being shown, just as we know that there are over 130 people on board and yet we keep seeing the same 10-12 week after week. My point is not that I wish I had seen more of Ballard, but that I wish the conclusion had been that Ballard is going to keep trying adapting to humanity even if it’s very hard, instead of running back to her new/old/new again Kobali life. Her problems are nothing that a few years of therapy wouldn’t fix; to be fair, therapy would fix almost any problem on this kind of show! If Seven can learn to be human again after a predicament that is similar, except worse, so can Ballard. This is why I say that I wish the plot had been taken further. As it is, the episode is just very good, but it could have been excellent.
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Harry Falls for the Wrong Woman #5: A hologram, a Borg, the wrong twin, and now the “dearly departed.” Curiously, Paris neglects to mention the nymph from the xenophobic species in S5’s “The Disease”... but I don’t blame him, because I too would love to be able to forget about that episode...
MUST-SEE
6.19 child's play
Voyager locate Icheb's family, but they are a backwards society and he does not want to leave the ship.
A mature drama, moving without cheaply pulling at the heartstrings and thrilling without unnecessary twists. Seven’s attachment to Icheb had been depicted over the past few episodes, so it comes across as genuine and lays a wholly believable groundwork for this script. Icheb’s own character development is sensible: while he follows in Seven’s footsteps, he also displays typical teenage traits (if anything, the character should have been a bit younger given his reactions, perhaps 14 or 15 rather than the nearly fully grown adult we see, but this is splitting hairs). Most of all, I love how Seven and Icheb’s relationships is just the right mixture of caring and adversarial. They’re alpha personalities who respect each other deeply, so it makes sense that most of their interactions would follow from this fact.
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As a result of such good characterization --- plus the choice to make Icheb’s home planet an agrarian society --- the story practically writes itself. Seven mourns the loss of Icheb’s potential, which Ryan depicts with excellent nuance. When he asks how he will be able to continue his astrophysics studies without the equipment on Voyager, she answers “I don’t know” so mournfully it almost moves me to tears. Once more, as in S5’s “Drone,” Janeway must advise Seven to allow her ward to express his individuality, even if it means to lose him. This is a terrific moment of growth for Seven’s character, as once again she is faced with great loss.
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Of course, that loss is quickly reversed as the script finds a way to get Icheb back. Normally I’d be upset at this dirty little trick, for it may seem to be wasting all the emotional toil we’ve just been through, but the final twist is so damn good that it’s definitely forgivable. Consistently with this season’s big snoozer “Collective,” the cube where Icheb, Mezoti, and the twins were rescued was disabled by an alien pathogen... which, we learn now, was engineered by Icheb’s parents to use their child as a bio-weapon against the Borg. (This kid’s going to have Daddy issues for the rest of his life!). This also gives Icheb and Seven yet something more to bond over, as her own parents’ irresponsibility is an unending source of pain for her. So even though the final plot twist may seem to be contrived for the mere purpose of keeping a recurring guest star on the show, actually it becomes deeply ingrained in the backstories of both characters.
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Fun fact: Icheb’s parents are played by Mark A. Sheppard and Tracy Ellis, both of whom guest starred in top X-Files episodes --- he as a supernatural pyromaniac in “Fire” and she as a traumatized kidnapping victim in “Oubliette.”
WORTH WATCHING
6.20 good shepherd
Janeway tries to bond with three crewmembers who have fallen through the cracks over the past few years.
S1’s “Learning Curve” meets TNG’s Lower Decks,” and while the result is weaker than the sum of its parts, there’s still enough raw material for a decent story. The idea that someone may fall through the cracks for years on a small ship is odd, so this episode would figure better in S2 at the latest. The specific misfits it chooses to depict are also trite: a hypochondriac kid, an insecure analyst, and an asshole that most audiences want to toss out an airlock. It may have been a better idea to revisit the Maquis crewmembers from S1.
That being said, the plot ends up being interesting. I like that Janeway takes pride in making sure that no-one feels lost... although she has relatively little personal charisma compared to previous ST captains. Picard had so much gravitas that simply basking in his presence made you a better person and officer; Sisko could be counted on to provide firm leadership in the direst moment; Janeway will guide you home, but at the cost of never forming a personal relationship with you. That she’s alone aboard her own ship is a running theme in the show, and an episode like this just drives that point home. In fact, she “reaches” none of these misfits on a personal level. She effectively agrees with Celes she doesn’t belong in Starfleet, Harren learns nothing from the experience, and Teller shows at best minor signs of improvement. So despite her claim that she was able to find the lost sheep, we see none of that, and we may wonder whether she had any success at all.
That’s too bad, because the episode is genuinely entertaining for a good half-hour. It has a wonderful opening sequence, several humorous moments, clear (if trite) characterizations, and a fascinating first contact scenario in a lovely environment. So it’s disappointing that the last two acts would be mired in procedural nonsense and that the authors lose sight of the situation they created. The stakes were set to be pretty high, but by the end we have no idea if they were met.
WORTH WATCHING
6.21 LIVE FAST AND PROSPER
Two alien traders impersonate Janeway and Tuvok to scam their clients.
Another valid comedy episode, one of many this season. The con artist character had been somewhat normalized with Quark on DS9’s regular cast, but was at its best in, say, TNG’s “Clues,” and while this episode doesn’t quite reach that level of sophistication, it’s funny and enjoyable because of who’s being impersonated. It’s said that imitation is the highest form of flattery, and while that’s certainly true of Tuvok’s impostor, Janeway’s is as cunning and soulless as con artists come, and makes for a somewhat worthy adversary. And just like in more serious episodes, such as S5’s “Think Tank” and “Counterpoint,” the only way out is to out-con the con, which is precisely what Janeway does with the clever Doctor stratagem.
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Still, in an episode like this the emphasis is rightfully on the comedy, as this sort of plot shouldn’t be taken too seriously. The impersonators’ dealings with variously clueless aliens are hilarious, as is the crisis of confidence that they arouse in the fellow swindlers Paris and Neelix. The three-card-trick scenes are especially well-written and acted. I like, also, that the script’s only attempt to moralize and to take itself seriously (Neelix’s you-too-can-be-good speech in the brig) is actually part of the con and used to further the comedy plot arc. So while at the end nothing has been gained or lost, the episode works just fine as a clever little adventure with a few laughs and lots of aha moments. That’s more than enough for me.
MUST-SEE
6.22 MUSE
Stranded on a pre-warp planet, Torres becomes the inspiration for a struggling playwright who believes she's a goddess.
How does one write about writing in a setting where writing isn’t part of anyone’s life? Why, one moves the setting to Ancient Greece, conveniently replicated on an alien Bronze Age planet, replete with theater masks and Odeon-style arenas. The alien Aristophanes is a young, spry character that’s easy to sympathize with, but it’s his rapport with Torres that steals the show. The stranded-on-an-ancient-alien-planet trope usually resolves in some tragicomic struggles to preserve the Prime Directive, sometimes with a throwaway romance subplot thrown in. And although this script has its share of scenes that feed from that stereotype, its focus is firmly on the concept of inspiration, playwrighting, and the cultural relevance of art.
Torres is the perfect character for this, because she’s absolutely unlikely to put up with any such nonsense. She’s stranded on an alien planet with a broken ship and a missing friend, so she’s in no mood to entertain the local wildlife. Surely enough, she has a rough time warming up to Kelis, who doesn’t fully gain her respect until the very final scene. This creates good tension between them, as Kelis’ struggle to involve Torres also involves the audience. Part of the success is depicting not just him but his entire troupe, bringing to life the socioeconomic dimensions of art that are usually sidelined in favor of the conceptual and the spiritual. Kelis isn’t just an artist: he’s a struggling poet dealing with a temperamental patron and managing a ragtag group of actors who depend entirely on his inspiration. This, rather than some misguided half-assed romance, is the source of most of the Torres scenes.
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The idea of the Eternals is a clear throwback to Ancient Greek mythology, whose gods and demigods routinely involved themselves in human affairs. But it’s also a fun way to depict Voyager’s technology in ways that Bronze Age simpletons would understand. In fact, Kelis’ play traces Torres’ away mission and expected rescue, and to an extent Voyager’s predicament as a whole: being far from home, sailing to a distant island, reckoning with the Borg Queen, etc. What little we see of Kelis’ play is a little gem of understated creativity that lends credibility to the script. The conclusion is also wonderful. Although it’s a clear violation of the Prime Directive, it’s as consistent with the worldview of a pre-warp society as it’s ever going to be. Ancient Greeks marveled at the fantastic contraptions necessary to create a deus ex machina, which is exactly what Torres teleporting before a big audience is. The rest of the episode works well, too, from Voyager’s rescue attempts --- finally they take something like this seriously and actually appear rather concerned for their missing comrades --- to Kim’s eventual involvement. Some parts, such as Tuvok’s insomnia, are merely added for comic relief and don’t do much. But that’s okay, as the focus does and should remain squarely on Torres and Kelis.
SERIES FLOP 20
6.23 FURY
Three years after leaving Voyager, Kes returns... to take revenge on the crew, by traveling back in time and trying to bring her past self back to the Ocampan homeworld.
It’s difficult to overstate how much this episode fails pretty much across the entire spectrum. While Kes was never a big fan favorite, and though Lien didn’t leave the show on the best of terms, if it is worth to bring back a past series regular at all, it is worth doing right. And yet it is hard to imagine how anyone could think that this was worth the time to write or film, and let alone to watch. It’s a near-total disaster from every conceivable viewpoint: acting, directing, music, art, etc. And its worst crimes by far are that the plot makes no logical sense and that the resulting time paradox is almost canon-breaking for the rest of the show.
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For one, the script is criminally naïve and never sells the supposedly high drama it portrays. What, exactly, did Kes find in her journeys post-Voyager that was so bad and that she “wasn’t ready for”? We last saw her ascending to a higher plane and developing quasi-godlike skills, so what happened next? Did she get into trouble? Did she run into Suspiria? Did she get bitchslapped by the Q? What? It’s one thing to leave some details up to the viewers’ imagination to allow for the multifaceted interpretation of a text, but quite another if those details are necessary for the plot to have a reason to be to begin with. Since we have no idea why Kes is doing what she’s doing, and since once we do learn about it it’s so vague that it raises more questions that it answers, everything else in the script is not worth buying into.
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The story itself also defies logic. Kes’s plan makes no sense: if she’s able to time-travel through a warp core --- how is one more unexplained detail, by the by --- then why not return to a time when Voyager is orbiting the Ocampan home planet and prevent herself from leaving at all? Why the whole nonsense with the Vidiians? To manufacture drama for the audience, of course, and to not recreate characters or sets from the pilot episode where every little difference is immediately noticeable (but then again, Lien herself looks nothing like the old Kes, so why bother?). Even if Kes’s plan made any sense, are we honestly supposed to believe that Janeway and Tuvok have been keeping this secret for six years? And that when Kes left in S4, and had lengthy conversations about whether she should follow her instincts, Janeway never thought to say “hey, in a couple of years you will hate yourself for this and try to kill us all, so maybe don’t?” And then --- which is worst of all --- that KES HERSELF KNEW ALL ALONG this would happen, since she even went as far as to record a holo-message for her future self warning her not to do it?! This isn’t just an unnecessary retcon: it’s a logically inconsistent, character-breaking one.
It’s easy to screw things up when writing about multiple timelines, not because of the complex physics (no time travel episode makes sense in that regard anyway), but because one must keep careful track of what everyone knows or doesn’t. The show goes to great lengths to avoid paradoxes, and episodes like S5’s “Relativity” demonstrate how well this can be done. But “Fury” is at the exact opposite end of the spectrum and shows a careless disregard for everything else that was written over the past few years. It is surprising that all the showrunners (Berman, Braga, Fuller, Taylor) put their heads together to write this abomination... but then again that might explain why this isn’t a script, but four ideas for a script held together against their will in a badly-fastened trench coat.
MUST-SEE
6.24 life line
Doc travels to the Alpha Quadrant to visit with Lewis Zimmerman, the designer of his holo-matrix, who is terminally ill.
After the outstanding “Pathfinder” earlier in this season, Barclay and Troi return in another beautifully written drama that makes the best of its guest characters and is also a terrific Doc story. There are some technical issues with the premise that sends Doc to the Alpha Quadrant in the first place, but I’ll mention them later, as they don’t influence the plot in any way. The plot is a simple but storied battle of wills between two people who are so similar they might as well be two sides of one persona. That’s what the script is aiming for, juxtaposing Doc’s infamous bedside manner with an even grouchier Zimmerman. Yet, Picardo does a grand job in granting each character a distinct nuance, and their interactions are quite believable and enjoyable as a result.
The plot is a bit derivative, a classic tough-love story with some holo-daddy issues. But it still feels fresh, perhaps because it’s the first time ST ventures into some of the technicalities of holographic design (e.g., usage, authorship, and diffusion). So when Doc and Zimmerman bond over the former’s pride at surpassing his original programming and the latter’s humiliation over the failure of the EMH-1 line, it feels like real progress. The backdrop is similarly well conceived and executed. From Troi to Barclay, Haley, and Leonard the holo-iguana (my favorite!), Zimmerman’s life feels like a life, something that will persist after the Doctor leaves, which is so very important to making the story feel genuine and relevant.
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If there’s a downside to this episode, it’s that the logistics of Doc’s transmission to the Alpha Quadrant are rushed and that the reactions of the Voyager crew are not as sensible as they could be. For one, the (relatively minor) drama about the mail is mostly moot, for if there’s room enough for so many subroutines, surely there’s room for literally half a megabyte’s worth of letters! Moreover, it’s surprising that Admiral Hayes would ask about casualties and the status of the Maquis: Voyager sent their logs to Starfleet on two occasions, so they would have known about all of that already. Finally --- and this is gripe is a tad more serious --- if there’s enough bandwidth through the Midas array to transport a holographic stream, why not a transporter signal? Yes, these are made-up technologies, and authors often play fast and loose with technobabble to suit the plot... but I do wonder. Both previous contacts with Starfleet left no doubt on this account: Doc had to be sent through the Hirogen relays because there was no time to do anything else, and Barclay’s message used a tiny wormhole that barely made audio communication possible, let alone a transport of any kind. But it appears that Pathfinder has broadened the bandwidth greatly, so it’s not absurd to think the crew might be able to transport over. I’m not complaining that it didn’t happen, for again the science is sketchy at best. Rather, I’m raising the issue of why it wasn’t even discussed.
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They Could Get Home #6: As I said, not a real plot hole, nor something to be quite upset about. It’s a lack of attention to detail, as with many of the scenes aboard the ship in this episode.
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Doctor Isn’t #9 and #10: “I’m a doctor, not a zookeeper” and “She’s a counselor, not an engineer.”
WORTH WATCHING
6.25 THE HAUNTING OF DECK 12
Neelix entertains the children with a ghost story during a blackout.
An inventive mood piece with a fun main plot, a solid sci-fi backstory, and a few eerie moments. Voyager must shut down all main power to enter a nebula, and Neelix makes up a scary story to keep the Borg children entertained for a while... except that it’s the real story of what’s happening, which we don’t find out until the very end but that was pretty obvious anyway. Turns out that Voyager picked up a stray EM-based life form and accidentally destroyed the nebula that hosted it, so the lifeform is mad and wants to return to a similar nebula. While not totally original (we’ve seen similar general plots in TNG’s “Lonely Among Us” and VOY’s own “Cathexis” in S1), it’s a nice twist when the alien learns to communicate via the ship’s automated computer announcements; and the resulting battle of wills between it and Janeway is similarly entertaining.
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Still, most of the emphasis remains firmly on Neelix and the children. The script is surprisingly fresh and devoid of clichés, and Neelix’s story is very entertaining not just for the kids but for the audience, as well. The interactions between Icheb and Mezoti are well-written, as is Neelix’s own struggle with fear during the flashback portions of the story. The episode as a whole has a lovely pace, never slows down, and is even a little spooky at times: the ideal mixture of comedy and adventure.