5x05 Disaster

[8.5/10] In almost every episode of Star Trek, some crewmembers get sidelined. And one of the best part of “Disaster” is that everyone has something to do. You can see why shows like The Next Generation don’t go to that well every time. Fitting in meaningful storylines for everyone from the captain of the ship to the creator of a primary school science fair-winning project on radishes means reducing each of their plots to the bare essence. There’s not time or space to go too deep into politics or philosophy or psychology when each character gets roughly seven minutes worth of screentime.

But a broad-based episode like “Disaster” is the perfect format-bender for TNG, demonstrating in a unique way how each member of the Enterprise has a role to play, and is capable of rising to the challenge before them, however diverse and unorthodox those challenges are. In craft a collection of mini-challenges for our heroes, we see the scope and breadth of talent on the Federation flagship in a way that’s just not possible on a weekly basis.

The episode follows different groups of characters and their predicaments when the Enterprise hits the damaging spatial phenomenon of the week. The collision debilitates the ship, trapping various members of the crews in different corners of the vessel, and forcing them to be resourceful in unusual settings and situations to restore order and protect lives.

That gives us a raft of miniature stories all centered around this one grand event. But my favorite of them, naturally, involves Captain Picard. The commanding officer is taking a trio of primary school science fair winners on a tour of the Enterprise when the turbolift gives out. Suddenly, the man who remains uncomfortable with children is forced to manage three preteens through a crisis when they’re desperately scared and convinced they’re going to die.

I like this plot in particular because it pushes Picard out of his comfort zone. Jean-Luc is normally unflappable in any Starfleet-related situation, so how do you meaningfully challenge him in the midst of a shipwide disaster? You force him to contend with one of the few things he’s bad at -- dealing with kids. It brings out a different side of Picard, one that puts a capstone on the increasing warmth he’s shown to his friends and his crew since his pricklier personality in the show’s early years.

What’s more he stumbles out of the gate! I love the fact that confronted with three crying, scared children, his first move is to all but order them to stop crying. He’s nigh-incapable of putting himself in the shoes of timid moppets rather than seasoned Starfleet officers. So instead, he turns them into seasoned Starfleet officers! There’s something so delightful and on brand for Picard enlisting the kids in their own rescue, giving them ranks and bestowing his pips on them. It’s a brand of problem-solving that Picard knows well, made age-appropriate in a fashion that tamps down the children’s fear by giving them agency in their own well-being. The choice is, frankly, a masterstroke of writing that feels true to both the character and the situation.

Some of the stories are more simple though, which doesn’t necessarily make them less compelling. I enjoyed the Dr. Crusher/Geordi plot here because it’s a pairing we don’t get very often, and because it shows some creative problem solving. They’re trapped in a cargo bay with a plasma fire whose radiation spread inching closer and closer to some flammable barrels. It requires Geordi to come up with a crazy but effective strategy of opening up the cargo bay doors to suck out the barrels and smother the fire through lack of oxygen, while Dr. Crusher has to anticipate the effects of the vacuum on the human body. The resulting set piece is exciting, and gives them both the win, as Beverly stumbles to repressurize the room in time. It’s a simple plot, but one that works for all involved.

There’s a little more to Counselor Troi’s story here, when the disaster just so happens to strike and trap everyone in a way that leaves her as the ranking officer on the bridge. Suddenly, she’s thrown into a situation where she has to command Chief O’Brien and a testy Ensign Ro through a situation she isn’t fully trained for, making command decisions outside of her normal duties.

I enjoy this one because it shows how commanding the ship isn’t just the day-to-day maintenance of the Enterprise or the technical knowhow. It’s decision-making and management, learning how to take input from experts and make choices that accord with your values in areas of uncertainty. Deanna may not be versed in all the intricacies of the ship or the phenomenon that’s hindering it, but she knows how to take suggestions from her subordinates and make calls accordingly.

Here, the big decision point is whether to separate the saucer section to spare those aboard from a potential explosion in the warp core, thereby leaving half the crew dead, or whether to try to reroute power to engineering in the hopes that they can fix the problem in time to prevent it. It’s a tough call, but deep down, Troi would rather take the risk to everyone out of trust that her colleagues can save the day given the chance, rather than sacrifice one half of the crew to save the other.

Of course it works out. And Ensign Ro, who seemed to implicitly resent being commanded by a counselor, admits she was wrong. But Troi commendably says she could just as easily have been right. It’s a nice way to acknowledge how tight these decisions are, and the way commanders both seasoned and green have to break ties using their beliefs and faith in their fellow crewmen.

The folks Troi and company end up restoring power to are Riker and Data, who crawl through a Jefferies tube to get to engineering. This falls into more of the “creative” problem solving type of plot than the “deep character introspection” plot, but it still works! Data has to sacrifice his body (temporarily) to grant them passage thanks to an electrical arc. From there, we get the amusement of Riker having to operate engineering panels using only Data’s head, and the excitement and comedy of Will attempting to do so in time to avoid an antimatter explosion, while tripping the wrong port on Data’s skull. Again, there’s not much there, but it’s a tidy little tale with some worthwhile resourcefulness from our heroes.

The funniest tale comes from Keiko going into labor and Worf trying to deliver her baby. It’s an inherently funny setup to have a rigid, stick-up-his-behind Klingon have to try to modulate his bedside manner to help someone bring life into this world. Lines like “This is not a good time” and “This is nothing like the simulation; that was much more orderly” are a laugh riot. Keiko’s understandably frustrated reactions to Worf’s grumpiness over things not going by the book is just as entertaining. Ultimately though, the Klingon rises to the occasion and helps bring the O’Briens’ daughter into this world, bringing smiles and joy all around. It’s the sitcommiest plot of the lot here, but the humor lands and the sweetness abides.

The same is true for Picard’s elevator escape with the kids. Their insistence on not leaving him behind, his reassurance to them with a climbing song, and the cathartic moment where they make it onto the next deck up and collapse into a hug are all delightful signs of this unlikely team working beautifully together. Picard doesn’t normally work with kids. If anything, it’s anathema to him. But when he meets them halfway, transforms them into little Starfleet officers, he’s as good with them as is with the men and women of his crew, as an adorable plaque presentation at the end of the episode demonstrates.

There just isn’t time in the average Star Trek episode to give everyone a piece of the spotlight like this. I don’t think I’d want a “Disaster” every week. Reducing everyone’s stories down to their bare essence like this would diminish the depth the show can bring to a particular idea. But as a change of pace, the episode is utterly delightful, proving that even when pushed beyond their usual limits or forced to face challenges outside of their typical domain, the men and women aboard the Enterprise can find creative solutions, whether that means blowing hazardous materials out the airlock or bonding with children. Both are roundly satisfying.