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.
In which I guessed right, Geordi tastes the Chair, and Riker gives the Speech.
In which Data finds his brother, you can’t choose your family, and I become a SJW, much to my own chagrin.
In which Troi is a cunning linguist, Paramount gets some new sets, and nobody thinks of the easy way.
In which we get an interpersonal episode, Riker is a big pouty face, and I think Netflix heard me complain.