Bridge. Quantum runs up to Reed and demands to know what the emergency is. Reed stands with his arms crossed and snits that the crew's response was "unacceptable." "Thirty-eight percent of them failed to report to their stations. Critical systems haven't been secured and I haven't even heard from Engineering!" Reed tattletales. Quantum orders him to shut off the noise. "I don't recall authorizing a tactical drill!" Quantum shouts. "Well, it wouldn't be much of a drill if everybody knew about it, sir," Reed snarks. Better watch it, Malcolm; you might have to go flog yourself if you get insubordinate. Or something less masturbatory. Reed tells Quantum it took him a minute and fifteen seconds to report to his post: "I'd expect more of our commanding officer given that the crew just might follow his example!" T'Pol just observes all of this. I gotta wonder how different this is from the way she sees these humans every day.
Trip runs in with another update on how he can caress his Captain's butt. "One minute and forty-nine seconds," Reed announces to Trip. Trip pauses briefly to give Reed this hysterical, derisive look of "Whatever, freaker!" before turning to Quantum. I really can't do the look justice in description, but we rewound the scene six times -- I think it's the funniest thing I've seen on this show yet. Trip leads Quantum over to a graphic of his chair mock-up: "Inneractive status displays, secondary helm control -- it's even got inertial micro-dampers. The ship could be shaking apart and you'd hardly feel a thang!" "Why not just install seatbelts?" Mathra wonders. "You ignored a tactical alert for this?" Reed shrills. Trip grimaces at him and tells Quantum he wants to get his opinion on headrest colors. "This is all a big joke to you!" Reed whines. "Give it a rest!" Trip shouts. "This isn't a bloody pleasure cruise. Without proper discipline on this ship, this mission is doomed!" Reed shouts back. We can see a larger graphic of the Captain's chair spinning on another display behind Reed's head. Hee. Quantum is back to being completely immersed in his preface on his e-pad. "Why don't you go play soldier somewhere else?" Trip demands. "If this were a military situation, you'd be taken out and shot!" Reed informs Trip. Trip pauses a minute, then grabs Malcolm by the lapels and throws him against the bulkhead. "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Mathra hops around the living room. Quantum gets between them and throws each of them against separate bulkheads. He forces his arm across Trip's chest and tells him he doesn't give a damn about the color of the headrest; he just wants somewhere comfortable to furrow from. Next, he turns to Reed and tells him that if he blows that alarm one more time, he might take him out and have him shot. Reed frowns, and Trip looks at him like, "Yeah, that's right!" Quantum storms over to T'Pol and tells him he's not to be interrupted unless there's a real emergency -- like a reactor breach. Or May-Aneurysm getting a line. T'Pol grows ever more logically concerned.
Quantum's Quarters. Barefoot, Quantum sits slumped against his wall and barely moves when T'Pol buzzes and walks in. He listlessly snips about needing to lock his door from now on. T'Pol tells him she thinks the whole crew has become obsessive-compulsive and needs to be examined by Phlox. Quantum once more becomes enthralled with his preface, and ignores her. She suggests that they start the medical examinations with him. That gets Quantum's attention. He stands up, looks her in the eye, leans forward, and...no, he doesn't kiss her, thank god! He tells her he's busy. T'Pol tries to argue with him, but he dismisses her and then forcibly removes her from his cabin, telling her that if she doesn't obey his orders, he'll confine her to her quarters until a Vulcan ship can come pick her up. See, now, T'Pol's way stronger than him -- why did she give so little resistance? She should've biffed him one.