In which the Enterprise has too many rooms, time anomalies make less sense than time travel, and worrying implications of holodeck technology are discussed.
In which you know what happens, Troi is good at her job, but Picard is better.
In which Picard offers to violate the Prime Directive, Wesley gets a Big Boy talk from Tasha, and Crusher has no faith in Picard.
In which salesmen are pushy, my ignorance is revealed, and I unveil a new counter.
In which Worf meets some countrymen, makes bad decisions, and gets a job offer.
In which Wes gets tested, Picard gets vetted, and I am appalled by the cavalier attitude towards severe emotional trauma evidenced by Academy entrance exams.
In which terraforming projects are a thing, Troi gets really creepy with investigative journalism, and nobody reads the mission logs.
In which a legend surfaces, Crusher insults all artists, and 20th century Earth sucks, apparently.
In which they hadn’t figured out the age make-up yet, Starfleet Security is still terrible at their jobs, and revenge is a dish best served old.
In which they fix the holodecks, Riker watches more porn, and I apologize for the last line of this post.