Quantum has a hard time convincing T'Pol they should help Shran. Luckily, they've brought back his Water Polo Ball of Persuasion to help him in this matter. T'Pol doesn't trust Shran. "You don't trust Andorians, you never have," Quantum says, bouncing his Water Polo Ball of Persuasion against the wall. You know, it drives me nuts when people do stuff like that. I get all edgy because I think they're going to hit an odd angle and I'm going to get smacked in the face. Plus, it's just rude. "Thank god the Vulcan Council is a little more enlightened than you are!" Quantum continues. Scott, Scott, SCOTT -- I look at you and I'm like, "God, you're HOT," then I listen to you and I'm like, "God, SHUT UP!" Quantum goes on with his convincing and adds, "When we met ten years ago, I didn't trust you. For that matter, I didn't trust any Vulcans -- you helped me get past that, remember? I listened to you and now it's your turn to listen to me -- I can't turn my back on him, T'Pol. Try to understand." T'Pol will try. Before she leaves, Quantum tells her to drop by the galley when she has a moment. "Chef's trying to come up with a menu for our last dinner together -- he wants to know everybody's favorite dish," Quantum explains. "There are eighty-three crewmembers aboard," T'Pol says. I'm sorry, but it's been ten years and the chef doesn't know everyone's favorite dish? He's not a very good. Hell, when we go to Alamo Seafood Grill, they know exactly what we like, right down to how we prefer our fish cooked or how much cassis to put in our Kir Royales. And guess what? We've only been going there for two years. Quantum tells her to just go see him. T'Pol leaves. A larger and slightly-whiter-about-the-nose Porthos jumps up on the bed. Quantum tousles his ears, saying, "Don't worry, Chef's promised at least six kinds of cheese." And for dessert, Porthos gets to spend the next week in sickbay! After the ship gets decommissioned, Porthos is taking a new assignment. With Poppadum and Hunca Munca. They're going to seek out and explore new pigeons.
As hands slice ill-advisedly unpeeled ginger with a Santoku knife, T'Pol tells "Chef" that there's no need for him to do anything special for her. "Chef" turns out to be Riker, in a biiiiig white chef's coat and pants that just aren't doing him any favors. Even if they did have to take in his old TNG uniform. Riker's happy to do it and he's already started reducing the Plomeek broth. He just wants to know what roots she prefers. T'Pol wants to be surprised. Riker asks her to pull up a chair and keep him company. Watch it, Jolene, inhaling food smells might make you gain an ounce. T'Pol bitches -- in very un-T'Pol-like tones -- about the Shran detour they are wasting their time with. All of Jolene's deliveries in this episode are a bit off. She's not exactly CRACK WHORING them, but she's doing something weird. I've been told that she was so angry about this finale that her delivery is a form of protest and many of her lines had to be ADR'd after the fact. She sort of delivers like she's drunk. Good for you, Jolene! Riker reminds her Shran's kid has been napped. "Is there anything aboard this ship you don't know?" T'Pol asks. "Jonathan's a compassionate man, you should know that by now," Riker says. Quantum? Compassionate? Excuse me while I hork up a pile of BULLSHIT. Again, stop TELLING us and start SHOWING us! Oh, forget it -- it's too late for that. T'Pol complains that they might miss the ceremony. Riker gives her some tea, tells her to relax, and says something about a really huge fish of Phlox's. "It looks like a catfish -- I'm hoping it tastes like one," Riker says, "Commander Tucker's crazy for catfish." T'Pol has no comment on this. Oh, I do! I do! Dr. Mathra and I went up the street to Blue Jay's Café tonight where they have the best Creole food in SF, and I actually ordered cornmeal-fried catfish with biscuits and cornbread in Trip's honor. I KNOW! I'm a FREAK!