The Communicator

** (2 stars out of 5)

"The Communicator", you'll be astonished to discover, is an episode about a communicator!

Remember how, long ago in the future, Dr. McCoy accidentally left a communicator behind on a planet of highly imitative jerks dressed as Chicago Mobsters? Well, what if Lt. Reed did that exact thing on a planet covered in G.I. Joes? Well, this. This happens. You watch it. You yawn, then you move on. Or if you're a saner person than me, you just don't watch it twice.

Archer and Reed are caught and questioned and agonize over what to say. Will they be mistaken for almighty golden gods or simple slobs who misplaced their iPhone? Somehow, they decide that rather than risk telling the truth, they will let the nervous Allies believe they are evil Germans. Since there is no Prime Directive to lay down their lives for, and the arrival of aliens had a POSITIVE effect on humanity, one wonders WHY they'd choose this!? It seems the one course of action most likely to get them starring roles on Alien Autopsy.

 Although it never gets much more creative than the title, I have to give it props for not simply beaming the prisoners out of Colonel Grat's, uh... I mean Colonel Gosis' clutches. There's a whole subplot where Trip learns to use the stolen Suliban cloaking ship and accidentally turns his hand invisible. It's worth a chuckle and a fart.

For myself, I can't watch the scene where Archer and Reed are discovered to be the only ones on the planet who'd need an eyebrow plucking, not because the beating is too violent, but because the unmasking is just silly. Who looks at a stick-on forehead that comes off like an old band-aid and draws the conclusion "Surgically Altered"? WHAT surgery? If you knocked off someone's hat, would you assume you'd just beheaded them?

Thirty Days

**** (4 stars out of 5)

Tom Paris just can't help being a BAD BOY.  Janeway has demoted him and thrown him in the brig. With his devil-may-care attitude, tight t-shirt, and inviting lips he'd better watch out for his cellmate... Solitary? Well, STILL. Who could resist Paris? Not even PARIS.

Rather than go stir crazy or learn to play the harmonica, Ensign Paris settles on writing a long letter he doubts his disapproving father will ever receive.

Tom begins by mocking Harry for his crush on the wrong twin sister. The oft-mentioned Megan and Jenny Delaney, (playing the Twin Mistresses of Evil) have Kim's character Buster all tied up right where they want him.  But while Jenny's hot for Harry, Harry's only got eyes for Megan. (Or maybe it's the other way around, Tom can't be bothered to try to tell them apart.)

Anyway, that's not why he's in the doghouse. There's a stunning phenomenon- ahoy! Epochs ago, an advanced people constructed a globular ocean out in space by sucking the perfectly good ocean off some planet. It may never have served any purpose, but it sure is cool!  A race of stuck-up lemming/newts called the Moneans claimed the empty maritime long ago. (Well, empty except for the Gungans and Shrieking Eels.) Now the waters are evaporating. Only Seaman Tom and his mighty vessel can save their civilization! Of course, the Monean government would have to give their oxygen mining a little rest... OVER THEIR DEAD, BLOATED BODIES!

Tom, like Travolta in that song, spends his summer nights showing off, splashing around. And slightly bends the Prime Directive, possibly. "Thirty Days", eh? Keel-Hauling's too good for the likes of him! Blow me down!

Pen Pals

*** (3 stars out of 5)

It's the first Federation exploration of the Selcundi Drema Sector (or Quadrant, if you prefer, which I DON'T. I prefer a quadrant to be one fourth of something. Like the galaxy. Or, even better, a pie.)

Picard's not much for small animals, but he loves to ride a horse.

Troi's people are not famously great riders, as they 'get too caught up in the shifting passions of the beast'.

"I would have thought the shifting passions of this beast would be far more terrifying." says Picard (of people).

Terrifying is the word of the day: the planets around here are falling to pieces. Riker puts Wes in charge of this investigation, and orders him to lead his first team. Possibly to pad out the story.

Ensign Davies enjoys disintegrating rocks and second guessing Wes. Rather than do five hours of work during a two month survey, Davies deftly weasels out of it. You think he'd do it out of boredom alone. But with a confidence boost from Riker, Wes makes it an order and Davies complies. Thrills galore in interpersonal dynamics! Whee!

Data happens across a little space girl with the equivalent of a ham radio set and breaks the Prime Directive to reassure her while her planet falls to ruin. Data petitions Picard to help save Drema IV. Little Sarjenka is sad and asks for help. So, against the rules, they do.

Dilithium is doing hinkey things to rocks, and a spate of technobabble is the answer!

"Right, sir. I'll just be standing over here dozing off," says O'Brien, expressing his opinion on Data's unlawful beam-down to warn Sarjenka. Data beams the glittery orange glam rock kid back, too, for a wildly unauthorized field trip.

Trying to minimize the cultural contamination, Picard has Pulaski erase Sarjenka's memory of these events. Which Data also subverts by giving her an inexplicable Elanian singer stone.

(I hope it's worth it if her people burn her as a witch.)

"Remembrance and regrets. They, too, are a part of friendship," muses Picard.

"Pen Pals" puts a lot of emphasis on how the Prime Directive ties these people's hands for simply wanting to be decent. Also, no offence, but saving this world could've been done without anyone seeing them at all. How is it breaking the directive if they never know you were there?