Cpt. Quantum and Trip are walking down the woods like the good ol' boys they are. Quantum is overtaken by the planet's beauty, and Trip is ready to build a cabin with his own manly hands. Mayweather says he couldn't call a place home unless it had "warp nacelles." Cpt. Quantum and Trip fight back the urge to put Mayweather through an elaborate and painful nature hazing ritual. "Boomers…" Trip says, by way of a slur.
Cpt. Quantum gets a call on his communicator. It's T'Pol, asking if anything's wrong. No, why? "Because we were supposed to rendezvous fifteen minutes ago," she says. Nag, nag, nag. Can't a man be manly on a big manly uninhabited man planet? Sadly, no. Trip and Quantum exchange a Lite Beer Look. "Sorry. We lost track of time. We'll be right there," Cpt. Quantum says. He better bring back some flowers, too.
By way of a greeting, T'Pol says they've identified several nocturnal marsupials. How did they do that in the middle of the day? She suggests that Ensigns Junk Food and Scrunchieface stay with her to keep studying overnight, being that they're expendable cast members and all. Cpt. Quantum, glad to be rid of the ol' ball and chain (memo to Trekkies: Sexism and Lite Beer Moments are not cool), says he'll pick her up in the morning. Trip speaks up and says he and Mayweather would like to stay. Mayweather is all, "What?" like some bad sitcom on, well, UPN. Trip asks Mayweather when the last time he slept under the stars was. It's all very romantic, but T'Pol interjects that this isn't shore leave. "Why can't it be both?" Cpt. Quantum says. Well, maybe because they're two different things. Didn't they teach you to think inside the box at the academy? Instead of keeping her eyes open freakily, T'Pol closes her eyes for a few seconds, as if she's Carrie and is going to set all the humans askew on kitchen utensils. Trip tells T'Pol not to worry -- that they'll stay out of her hair.
Campfire. Echoes of Star Trek: The Bloated Generation movies. Mayweather is telling a spoooooky space ghost story involving a distress signal and a ship and a freighter and it's just long and annoying. It involves a vessel that floated in space for sixty-three years and how a crew tore into the ship and they found some crazy, belligerent crewmember who took off on a lifepod. I know this is supposed to be Mayweather's big acting moment, but, yawn. It ends with "But Webb's still out there, drifting. When the subspace noise is real low, some com officers say they can still hear the echo of the distress call. Beep…Beep…Beep." They all laugh nervously. T'Pol deflates their campfire buzz by saying that it's highly doubtful a distress signal would last that long. Man, she really is going to piss on the campfire. Trip guesses there are no ghost stories on Vulcan. Scrunchieface opens her eyes and points out our sun, which is just a speck in the sky. Trip talks about how he imagined when he was a kid what the sun would look like from that far away. Ensign Fast Food gets up suddenly and says he has a headache and would like to lie down. He asks permission, which T'Pol grants. There's no ominous music here, so I'll insert it: Dum Dum DUMMMM! Trip asks if anybody's heard about the haunted space comet. Yeah. Shut up now. It's late. Ensign Scrunchieface notices that the fireflies that were there earlier are now gone. Then she's suddenly blasted by a gust of wind. Oh goody. Storm. "A front is approaching from the southwest!" T'Pol says. She's suddenly on The Weather Channel?
Next thing we know we're in Trip and Mayweather's, um, tent, where the weather outside is frightful. Trip says that "it ain't nuthin' compared to a hurricane comin' through the Florida Keys!" Mayweather counters with the ineffectual "Try flying though an ion storm at Warp 2!" Pansy.