An Enolian prisoner sitting in front of Quantum informs him that the guards don't like to be bothered, and Quantum seizes upon this fellow restrainee as a font of information. He asks where they're going, since he heard someone mention "Canamar." The font seems to have dried up as quickly as it gushed, because the Enolian prisoner disdains to answer. However, Trip's seatmate -- a dread-locked alien with a teenage voice and fluttery scales around his jowls -- tells him, "It's a penal colony!" before turning away again. Hee: penile colony. Trip asks Terence Trent D'Alien about their justice system and finds out that there's really no justice to the system; guilty or not, they're all being sent to Canamar. If you ask me, Canamar sounds like a place where top-flight pilots get sent to fly against the best of the best. Maybe it's not such a bad place -- Quantum could end up with "Furrow" painted on his helmet. Although I don't think I'd like to see Terence Trent D'Alien or the Nausicaan dancing around to Miami Sound Machine. Trip tells him he thinks they are being accused of smuggling, and Terence Trent D'Alien seems to think that's a particularly bad thing. "They'll probably make an example of you," Terence Trent D'Alien finishes. Trip and Quantum exchange looks. Quantum looks at the guard and then looks at his seatmate, who growls at him. Heh.
Enterprise. T'Pol talks to the Enolians and tries to get info out of them. They profess to know nothing about the abduction. T'Pol tells him she'll send him Trip and Quantum's descriptions.
Prison Transport. Ignoring the Enolian prisoner sitting in front of Quantum, the Enolian guards dish out gruel. You know, I've never understood why gruel is served to prisoners and orphans. It's not like it's that easy to make. I mean, you've got the dried cream of wheat or oats or whatever the chaff of choice is, and you have to boil water and then mix it all together. In my opinion, that's too much work for some prisoners you don't really care about. Why not just throw dried fruit and beef jerky at them? They keep forever and there's no prep time needed. Yet they always use gruel to show just how cruel the prison or orphanage is. Of course Trip has to be a smart-ass and say, "Anything else on the menu?" Well, at the touch of a button, you could have Deep-Fried Trip, so just shut your big yapper. Some Nausicaan in the back tells Trip that if he's unhappy with his prix fixe, he can hand it over to those who would better appreciate its subtle bouquet of mush on mush. I find it really singular that the Nausicaans of this century seem to speak much more eloquently than the "Play Dom Jot Hu-MON!" of Picard's youth. Trip says he likes his gruel "jest fine," and the Nausicaan tries to be all intimidating about how he wasn't asking for Trip's food; he was insisting. After Trip sasses him, the Nausicaan jumps to his feet with a roar, only to be wrist-zapped back to his place by the Enolian guards. Trip thanks the guard, and gets some wrist-zapping of his own for even bothering with Southern niceties. Quantum glares ineffectually at the Enolian guards. Well, it's better than furrowing ineffectually. Terence Trent D'Alien warns Trip to be wary of the Nausicaans' and their nasty tempers. Although he neglects to mention it, Trip is actually well acquainted with Nausicaans and their moods. Trip tries to tell his curious seatmate who he and Quantum really are, but Terence Trent D'Alien doesn't believe him one dom-jot.