Demons

***** (5 stars out of 5)

Meanwhile, it's January of 2155 back in a universe where close friends rarely shank each other for the last Pop-Tart in the box: the Star Trek Universe.

Nathan Samuels (better known as the Mayor of that plucky Californian city on the Hellmouth, San Fransisco) is politicizing the progress Captain Archer has made in getting aliens and humans to not murder each other so much. (Progress which is, itself, made possible by a grant from the Hoshi Sato Universal Translator Foundation.) Samuels is the beaming face of the budding new Coalition of Planets (name to be firmed up later).

Reed is making clandestine rendezvous in back alleys again, as the spymasters of Section 31 investigate the shooting death of Dr. Khouri, a woman who collapsed at the Coalition holding a hair from a Vulcan-Human hybrid. Phlox identifies this as the child of T'Pol and Tucker. And finally, Mayweather is doinking a reporter who works for a xenophobic cult lead by a power-hungry madman.

John Frederick Paxton. What is he, a tycoon or a moon shuttle conductor? He's got a funny idea about heroes: his idol is a familiar figure from The Original Series- Colonel Green. It seems that around 2056, shortly after the nukes of World War III dropped, "The Green Party" had an ENTIRELY different connotation. The Colonel prevented generations of mutation, disease, and ugly people using certain undisclosed unsavoury measures. Presumably millions of extremely late term abortions- in the 443rd month, for instance.

From his mobile fortress Paxton seizes the verteron laser on Mars and flatly intones "Aliens Go Home".

"Demons" is LeVar Burton's final directorial contribution, and wonderful work it is, too. Harry Groener and Peter Weller are welcome guests, and the regulars are in top form. We're wrapping up here and I'm kind of sad to see the end. To Be Continued...

Message in a Bottle

***** (5 stars out of 5)

A stupendous episode if you're a comedy geek with a spaceship fetish. Fortunately... that's me all over.

While hacking into the intergalactic satellite communication network of what turns out to be a vicious race of giant killer monsters (sort of like Verizon with bazookas), Seven of Nine electrocutes the phone operator and allows the transmission of a brief holographic message to a Starfleet vessel on the other side of the galaxy.

The message IS the Doctor, ill-prepared but quick-thinking. The vessel is U.S.S. Prometheus (no relation to the one with the black goop and giant albinos). Prometheus is an experimental warship, the construction of which was so rushed that they painted the wrong registry number on the hull. Prometheus splits into its own squadron of transforming robot lions done up in primary colours... sorry, that's VOLTRON.

The Emergency Medical Hologram can't inform anyone here of Voyager's status: they were all killed by Romulan hijackers. Well, except an untested EMH Mark 2 who would rather shut down than try to retake the ship.
And yet Mark 1 learns to respect Mark 2's more current medical knowledge ("We don't use scalpels or leeches anymore!"), while Mark 2 learns to respect Mark 1's experience. (Especially that modification Mark 1 has used to equip himself... IN HIS PANTS!)

I've read that my favourite exchange in all the bickering between the holograms was contributed by Robert "EMH Mark 1" Picardo:
"Stop breathing down my neck," barks Voyager's doctor.
"My breathing is merely a simulation," Mark 2 informs him.
"So is my neck. Stop it anyway!"

The terrified nerd duo must outdo the enemy soldiers and fly their empty warship into combat. (More's the pity- they shoot at their own forces. Fortunately, Defiant-class ships may not look like much, but they can take a pounding. That's What She Said!)

Best of all: Voyager still can't get home, but home knows where they are. They're not alone any more.

"Message in a Bottle" may be an unfortunate title when showcasing notorious drunkard Andy Dick. Still, I admired his character for fighting off his quite reasonable panic that he is out of his depth. He can't even crawl properly- he wasn't designed for anything he's forced to do. With the physical awkwardness and arrogance of a humanoid stork, there's much to enjoy about his performance. EMH Mark 2 is almost as funny as Clone High's Mr. Sheepman.