[Corridor]

MARINER: After we dump this in storage, let's hit the bar and see if we can get a cute lieutenant to argue with me.
TENDI: Interesting. Why would you want that?
MARINER: I don't know. Getting some uptight hunk all wound up just gets me all...
GLOBE: Supplicate yourselves!
TENDI: Ah! What the heck?
MARINER: Whoa. It's one of those transdimensional energy creatures.
GLOBE: Behold and tremble at... Oh!
(Mariner has grabbed the globe.)
MARINER: Quick, Tendi, grab me one of those canisters.
TENDI: Wait, shouldn't we call security?
GLOBE: I will destroy you.
MARINER: No, no. We can use this thing for all sorts of cool stuff. Hey, grab the pod. We can figure it out later.
TENDI: He's a sentient creature. Are... are we even allowed to stuff him in something?
MARINER: He's a bad guy. He zaps people.
GLOBE: I shall make a feast of your misery! No, wait! Don't put me in the pod! I can grant you wishes.
MARINER: And I'm listening.
GLOBE: I can rearrange air molecules into whatever you want.
MARINER: Even one of those fancy new tricorders with the purple stripe?
TENDI: Ooh, those are nice.
GLOBE: Oh, that would use up a lot of my... Okay, okay. Just... I'll try.
(Effort. The Globe is now much smaller.)
GLOBE: There. That's... There you go.
MARINER: Where's the power cell, dude?
GLOBE: What, really?
MARINER: Like I was going to ask for something that didn't come with batteries.
GLOBE: Okay, okay.
(Effort. The Globe is now tiny.)
MARINER: Thank you.
(Tendi and Mariner walk off, leaving the anti-grav sled. The Captain walks round the corner with another officer.)
FREEMAN: I really got to think of something cool to say when we're going to warp.
GLOBE: Die, mortal!
(The Globe bounces off her jacket.)
FREEMAN: Something like it's warp time! What do you think of that? Is that good for you?

[Repair shop]

TENDI: (scanning device) Hmm. What you watching?
MARINER: Oh, it's this video of Vice Admiral Gibson falling off a stage during peace negotiations. You got to check it out. Ah, it's classic.
BOIMLER: Guess which command ensign just scored the best assignment on the ship.
TENDI: Er, Castro?
BOIMLER: No, not Castro.
MARINER: Oh, too bad. She's the best.
BOIMLER: Castro's overrated. Just because she served on the Enterprise for, like, one minute...
TENDI: Ooh, was it P'jok? That guy can do anything, and what a snack. Meow.
BOIMLER: No! It's me. I got it. I'm the guy that got it, okay? I'm gonna be piloting General K'orin down to Tulgana 4.
TENDI: K'orin. How do I know that name?
BOIMLER: Maybe because he's like one of the most decorated, battle-hardened Klingon warriors in history?
MARINER: Or maybe it's just 'cause all Klingon names sound the same? Like, they all have an apostrophe for some reason.
TENDI: Yes. That's it.
MARINER: Well, clearly I'm being rewarded for all the hours I log into the simulator.
MARINER: Your idea of a reward is an escort run? Oh, you have the bar set way too low. What's punishment? Something actually fun? What is wrong with you?
BOIMLER: Look, all I know is I'll be flying down to a bustling, exotic planet while you're stuck right here.
MARINER: Er... check yourself. It doesn't get more exotic than this.
BOIMLER: All right, nobody talk to me. I got to brush up on my formal Klingon greetings, okay? Nuqneh, nuqneh! Yeah, keep it subtle. Nuqneh.
(Rutherford emerges from an access hatch.)
RUTHERFORD: Well, if you see an unaligned EPS conduit, don't call me. Mine are aligned as hell.
TENDI: Wait, aren't there, like, a hundred of those? How long have you been in there?
RUTHERFORD: A solid week. Crawling through cramped ducts, prying open panels, and adjusting red-hot power cables. Look, look look. I've got blisters on my blisters.
TENDI: Oh, wow, you must be so relieved to be done.
RUTHERFORD: Oh, I'm not done. Now I get to recalibrate everything. That's another three, four days in the tubes!
TENDI: Oh, but I thought we were gonna watch the Trivoli pulsar together?
RUTHERFORD: Oh, I did promise you I'd do that.
TENDI: Well, don't worry. Some people agree to do stuff when they don't actually mean they're going to do it.
RUTHERFORD: No, no, no, no. I'm Starfleet. I never go back on my word. Er... you know, if I quit my job in Engineering and switch divisions, I wouldn't have to be in the tubes at all.
TENDI: Really?! Oh, you can do that?
RUTHERFORD: Sure. When's the pulsar?
TENDI: 0800. Ah! This really means a lot. I don't have a lot of friends yet, and doing science on my own really bums me out, so thanks, Rutherford.
RUTHERFORD: All right, looks like I just have to... find a new career.

[Shuttlebay]

(Boimler enters in dress uniform carrying large cases.)
BOIMLER: Ooh! Pew, pew, pew. Good work, gents. Let's keep her right and tight. Pew, pew, pew.
(Stevens gives him a Look.)
BOIMLER: At ease, carry on. Sorry.

[Yosemite]

(Mariner is eating pot noodles, messily.)
BOIMLER: What? Mariner?
MARINER: Oh, hey, Boimler. You want some?
BOIMLER: What are you doing? Get out of here. You're getting broth on the controls. I got to prep for takeoff.
MARINER: Oh, I know. I'm coming with.
BOIMLER: You got the same mission assignment as me? How?
MARINER: Pulled some strings. I mean, you made this sound so rewarding, I just had to see youin action. Keep reading.
BOIMLER: I'm your co-pilot? You're taking on more work? Just to bug me?
MARINER: Calm down, man. We can't have you co-flying angry. I need you co-calm. Ooh, nice dress uniform. You getting married after this?
BOIMLER: No. I wish you would take this seriously.
MARINER: I am. Ooh! This is the new shuttle with the blast shield. Yeah! It's a blast shield, it's a blast shield
BOIMLER: Stop it. No. It-it works.
MARINER: It comes down and it goes up.
BOIMLER: It works, okay?
MARINER: Blast shield!
BOIMLER: You don't have to... Stop it. Stop it!

[Engineering]

BILLUPS: Rutherford, great work on the EPS grid. I wish I had more engineers like you. My life would be a lot simpler.
RUTHERFORD: Er... thanks. Er... can we talk for a second?
BILLUPS: Just for a second? Don't tease me. Come on, man. You're my number-one-with-a-bullet systems guy. I got time for you in spades.
RUTHERFORD: Er... I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to be exploring other opportunities on the ship.
(Entire Engineering crew gasps.)
BILLUPS: Are you saying what I think you're saying, Ensign?
RUTHERFORD: Er... I'd like to request a transfer out of Engineering.
BILLUPS: Consider your request... granted! Oh, man, this is exciting. I'm sure wherever you end up, they'll be lucky to have you.
CREW: Rutherford! Rutherford!
RUTHERFORD: Aw, thanks, guys.
CREW: Rutherford!
RUTHERFORD: I'm gonna miss you.

[Yosemite]

MARINER: (asleep) Buried alive... Marooned for eternity... Moons of Nibia.
BOIMLER: Ugh. Unbelievable.
MARINER: Oh, sorry. I keep having this awesome dream.
BOIMLER: General K'orin is gonna be here any second. Let me do the talking. I've been studying him all day.
MARINER: Is he single?
BOIMLER: Will you just...?! Rein it in. We need to show him deference and respect.
(Big one-eyed Klingon with a bat'leth on his back.)
BOIMLER: General K'orin. It is an honour to escort you, sir. Allow me to say... Nuqneh. Oh, no. No, no, no. Mariner, what are you doing?! What? No! What are you doing? What...? No!
(Mariner has attacked K'orin and gots his own dagger to his throat. They both laugh.)
K'ORIN: Starfleet has made you soft, Mariner.
MARINER: Not as soft as your ngech, K'orin!
BOIMLER: Wait, wait, wait. W-W-Wait. Hold on, hold on. Do you two know each other?
MARINER: Yeah. We did some off-the-books gray ops stuff back in the day.
BOIMLER: We're, like, the same age. Back in what day?
K'ORIN: Now they've got you pushing PADDs on a ship full of children.
MARINER: Well, can't beat four weeks' shore leave.
BOIMLER: Well, General, as I was saying, Nuq... Okay. Yeah, just holding your sword, then.
K'ORIN: I must update you on my many sexual conquests, Mariner.
MARINER: What, both of them?
(Shuttlecraft Yosemite takes off. A little later, singing that Klingon drinking song...)
MARINER: Okay, you go down. There we go.
BOIMLER: Where did you even get flagons?
K'ORIN: Boy! Land in Little Qo'noS. I want gagh!
BOIMLER: Er... well, my orders were actually to deliver you to the Federation outpost so you could...
MARINER: Co-pilot, just set us down in the Klingon district. The man wants hot worms.
BOIMLER: Yes, sir. Coming right up.
K'ORIN: Do you remember Jaxxa Prime, the commander who didn't believe you about rectal insectoids?
MARINER: Ha! Yeah, I got chewed out, but his ass got chewed up.
(K'orin laughs so much he spits bloodwine all over Boimler.)
STC: Federation shuttlecraft, this is Tulgana 4 space traffic control. Landing code challenge epsilon.
BOIMLER: Transmitting confirmation on secure channel gamma sev... Will you two please be quiet so we don't get shot out of the sky? Whoa!
(K'orin's dagtagh spears the console.)
BOIMLER: Sending confirmation code now. Thank you.

[Plaza]

(They leave K'orin snoring on the shuttlecraft floor.)
MARINER: Mmm, the smell of a Klingon district. We'll have to get the shuttle washed for sure.
BOIMLER: If anyone asks, this was your call.
MARINER: Okay, snippy.
BOIMLER: Ooh, yeah, I'm snippy. Drinking, landing in an unsecured district? That's how you choose to represent Starfleet?
MARINER: Me and the general are blood-bonded. It would have been weird if I acted all stuffy.
BOIMLER: He's passed out and he pooped on his sword.
MARINER: He's a lightweight. I mean, don't sweat it. We'll get him a hot cup of raktajino, he will be ready to go.
BOIMLER: Oh, no.
(The shuttlecraft takes off, bounces off another vessel and flies away.)
BOIMLER: Oh... Oh, no! Oh, no, no, no, no. The shuttle! The shuttle! What the hell?! No.
MARINER: Ha. Classic K'orin. Ah, he did this on Vulcan. And on Earth. He steals a lot of things.
BOIMLER: We are stranded here because of your recklessness.
MARINER: Oh, relax. We can just beam back to the Cerritos and remotely trigger the return autopilot.
BOIMLER: Sure, yeah, if Tulgana 4 wasn't protected by an ion field that restricts comms and transporters! Do you even read the mission brief?
MARINER: I'm sorry, I skimmed almost most of it and read some of the captions, so... Dude, where are you going?
BOIMLER: I'm tracking down our shuttle. If we're not back to it by the next rotation, we'll be court-martialed!
MARINER: Don't knock it till you've tried it.
BOIMLER: This is serious! I think we're violating the Khitomer Accords!
MARINER: Yeah, I don't want to go to a penal colony either, but I am not going to speed-walk. What is this speed-walking? You know we're going the same speed.
BOIMLER: Stop it. It's to conserve energy. Section 31 does this.

[Food stall]

KLINGON: Yes, General K'orin was here a short while ago. It was my honour to serve him a warrior's meal.
(Gagh.)
BOIMLER: Do you know where he went?
KLINGON: Are you tracking him?
BOIMLER: Oh, well, I, er... Whew, I think, er...
MARINER: Er... no, we-we want to kneel before him and lick his boots like the Federation dogs we are.
KLINGON: He went north, in search of stronger ale.
BOIMLER: He was already wasted.
KLINGON: (pointing mek'leth) Is that a problem?
BOIMLER: Er... no. I mean, er... drinking to excess is cool.
MARINER: All right, come on. There's an Andorian district just north of here.
BOIMLER: So we're Federation dogs, huh?
MARINER: Hey, if it got us what we needed, woof woof. I know this is fun, but we really need to get back.
BOIMLER: I'm not having fun.
MARINER: Geez, these guys are acting like they've never seen a Starfleet uniform.
BOIMLER: Well, they're Kaelons, and Kaelons are notoriously isolationist. And that... (bumps into very large alien) Oh, shoot, sorry. That's my fault.
(Picking up spilt gagh.)
MARINER: Boimler, let's keep moving.
BOIMLER: No, no, no, I need to apologize in his native tongue. Let me think. He's a, er... a Taxor. Right, and they communicate through guttural tones.
(actually says - female faeces outside inside faeces.)
(Boimler gets grabbed into a bear-hug.)
MARINER: Hey back off, blue!
BOIMLER: No! Don't hit him! We have a treaty!
(She grabs a money pouch and throws it away.)
TAXOR: (My wallet! Dang it! Aw man, my dad's gonna kill me.)

[Holodeck]

RANSOM: You made the right choice transferring into Command, son. Nothing compares to the firm, hot pulse of a joystick in your hand. The bridge is where the action is.
RUTHERFORD: Should be interesting, sir.
RANSOM: Let's start with a classic bridge simulation. Computer, Command Trainer 43.
COMPUTER: Initiating advanced simulation.
RANSOM: Ensign, the bridge is yours. Be gentle but attentive. Get her where she needs to be. Guide her home.
RUTHERFORD: Okey-dokey. Er... maintain course.
(Crash! Red alert.)
PILOT: Captain, we're being drawn into a temporal rift.
RUTHERFORD: Er... Er...
SCIENCE: Shields at ten percent!
NAVIGATION: Warp core breach in seconds, Captain!
RUTHERFORD: Oh, man.
MEDICAL: Captain, we need orders!
RUTHERFORD: Er... er... maintain course?
COMPUTER: Ship destroyed. Casualties 105%
RUTHERFORD: Wait. How did I kill more than the whole crew?
RANSOM: Okay, that was a rough start. FYI, in situations like that, try employing the Janeway Protocol.
RUTHERFORD: Got it. And what's that?
RANSOM: Good one. All right, let's try something more straightforward. Computer, Command Trainer 4.
COMPUTER: Initiating basic training simulation.
NAVIGATION: Captain, we're directly in the path of a small asteroid. Should we move to avoid?
RUTHERFORD: Er... do the Janeway Protocol.
NAVIGATION: Er... are you sure, sir?
RUTHERFORD: Yes?
(Red alert.)
PILOT: Collision alert, sir. The kindergarten on Deck Eight, it's gone!
RUTHERFORD: Er... er...
PILOT: No. No, no, no. Now the pre-K is gone. All the ship's children have been ejected into space.
RUTHERFORD: All those kids...
RANSOM: Freeze programme. In thousands of simulations, that's literally never happened before. Let's try another one, on a ship with even more children.

[Risan quarter]

(Big Jamaharon fountain.)
BOIMLER: I can't believe I messed up so bad with that Taxor. I've read, like, five books about them.
MARINER: Hey, don't sweat it, B. I got you.
BOIMLER: That's even worse. You didn't study them at all.
MARINER: I study by doing, you know? Maybe you need to spend less time in the library and more time letting Boimler get nasty.
BOIMLER: No. I need to up my studying, spend even more time in the library.
MARINER: Whatever, man. Just hang here for a second. I got to go blood-pee some blood wine, maybe get some intel on the general.
ANABAJ: Oh. I see we both have a thing for red.
BOIMLER: Er... me, what, red? What?
ANABAJ: Your shirt. We match.
BOIMLER: Oh. Er... yes, well, this is my work shirt. And I'm Ensign...
ANABAJ: Ensign Brad Boimler. I know. I can sense your thoughts, your desires. I know you like jamaharon.
BOIMLER: I er wha... er...
(She climbs on his lap, they pucker up and... Mariner turns a hosepipe on them.)
BOIMLER: Mariner, what the hell?!
MARINER: That thing is an Anabaj. It's gonna implant eggs in your throat, dummy.
BOIMLER: What are you...
(The Anabaj reveals its true face with forked tongue.)
ANABAJ: I know you still want it. I can hear your nasty boy thoughts. Jamaharon. This boy wants jamaharon!
(More hosing down, and it runs away up the side of a building.)
MARINER: Love your sarong. You okay, Boims?
BOIMLER: Yeah, I just... I-I've never even heard of an Anabaj. How did you know?
MARINER: Affinity for red, drawn to the weak-minded. Plus, I kind of dated one once, but only to make my mom mad.
BOIMLER: Weak-minded?
MARINER: An Andorian in the bathroom said the general's at a bar just down the road. Come on. You can tell me about jamaharon later.

[Sickbay]

T'ANA: Ah, you're doing a bang-up job with that endocrine system, Ensign.
RUTHERFORD: It's not so different from engineering. The heart's an engine. The brain's a computer. The eyes are a different kind of computer. No... cameras. Eyes are cameras. Camera eyes.
T'ANA: Sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself. The next part gets dicey. Keep him distracted.
RUTHERFORD: Are you sure you don't want me to reroute...
T'ANA: Go chat him up! That's an order! Tendi, exoscalpel.
RUTHERFORD: Er... hi. I'm supposed to distract you from all this stuff over here, so...
BAJORAN: I'm gonna be okay, though, right?
RUTHERFORD: My implant says there's only a small chance you'll die.
BAJORAN: What? How small?
RUTHERFORD: 18%. Oh, er... now it's up to 20. You might want to control that heart rate.
BAJORAN: Oh God, I'm gonna die!
T'ANA: What the hell are you saying to him? Just calm him down.
RUTHERFORD: Er... er... Take your mind off of this. Er... think about work. Think about the warp core.
BAJORAN: I got burned in the warp core!
RUTHERFORD: Those are dilithium burns? How are you still alive, man? You should be dead!
T'ANA: Get out of here! Tendi, take over.
RUTHERFORD: Wait, but...
TENDI: Sorry. Don't worry, you're looking just fine, inside and out.
BAJORAN: Oh, my God. Oh, thank God. That robot said I was dying.
T'ANA: Listen, kid, you're great at digging around in a body, but if you can't muster up some bedside manner, you may as well be with the grunts in security.

[Holodeck]

SHAXS: Welcome to security. Why don't we throw you into the fire and see if you burn? Computer, initiate Combat Simulation Smorgasborg.
COMPUTER: Initiating.
RUTHERFORD: Ah! Borg! Oh, crap. I don't know how to fight. I don't know how to fight. Maybe this thing does?
(The implant says Combat Strategy Optimised.)
RUTHERFORD: O... okay. (fighting) Oh, I can do that? Ha, man. Ha! Take that. Chop, chop, bang! Karate! Ha, ha.
SHAXS: In the name of the Prophets. I put people into that simulation so they can learn how to deal with defeat. Ensign, you are a natural-born warrior.
RUTHERFORD: Oh. Okey-dokey.

[Andorian quarter]

MARINER: Keep your head down. Andorians don't mess around.
BOIMLER: Er... Andorians were a founding member of the Federation. Please don't explain them to me. I can look out for myself. You want to tell me about Tellarites, too?
MARINER: Maybe shut up and keep an eye out for the shuttle? How about that?
ANDORIAN: Ah! No, you're hurting me. Please. My bones.
BOIMLER: They're killing him!
MARINER: Boimler!
ANDORIAN: Please, no. I-I can explain.
ANDORIAN 2: Explain it to my boot.
(He gets zapped by a phaser.)
BOIMLER: Starfleet! I order you to step away from the elder.
ANDORIAN 3: You idiot! That's no elder, it's...
ANDORIAN: Now I'm a little boy.
(Escapes through window.)
BOIMLER: A shapeshifter? Ah, boo.
ANDORIAN 3: That Vendorian is a thief, and you let him get away!
ANDORIAN 2: They must be working together!
(Fight with various races joining in.)
BOIMLER: Oh, no! Aah! Stand down. This is in violation of the Tulganan Neutrality Pact.
(He gets saved by Mariner.)
MARINER: Kirk hands! Hello, alien people. Alien creatures and beings. Look up here. Thank you. Okay. I would be happy to hand you all your asses, but right now, we're kind of on a deadline, so how about instead of fighting, the next five rounds are on me?
(Cheers. Mariner is carried on their shoulders.)
MARINER: It's cool. I stole it from that Taxor! Excuse me, sir. I don't know you. That is Starfleet property you're handling.
(Later...)
MARINER: Ah, apparently, we just missed K'orin. If we hurry, maybe we can get him.
BOIMLER: I don't even care anymore.
MARINER: What? Oh, man, how much blood did you lose?
BOIMLER: Ow. This whole time, I've either been one step behind you or totally in the dark.
MARINER: Yeah, but only because I'm pretty amazing. Look, everyone has bad days.
BOIMLER: All that studying, and where did it get me? Klingon threw a knife at my head. I nearly got eggs laid in my throat. Those guys at the bar wanted to eat me. What is that? What are you doing?
MARINER: Kitalia leaves. They contain a numbing agent.
(She slaps a poultice on his leg.)
BOIMLER: I've never once seen you study, but then you just breeze in here knowing cool plant tricks and which aliens are which. How?
MARINER: Dude, I told you I've been places. I just pick stuff up along the way.
BOIMLER: I could never do that. I guess I'm just not cut out for Starfleet.
MARINER: Oh, please, you're Mr. Starfleet.
BOIMLER: No, I'm not, not like you are! I should just turn in my uniform and go work on a research asteroid!
MARINER: No, absolutely not. Do not even joke about that. That is the lamest thing you could do.
BOIMLER: I should just study bugs on a far-off planet and then eventually get eaten and no one will even know until they stumble across my distress call, but it'll be way too late, and then they'll have to spend a bunch of time deciphering how things went wrong based on my final shaky video logs.
MARINER: I'm sure you wouldn't get eaten. Starfleet doesn't just need badass cool people like me. They need, like, book-smart people like you, too.
BOIMLER: When we get back, I'm done.
(Throws his insignia in a puddle and leaves.)

[Security]

SHAXS: All right, everyone, huddle up. I want to introduce you to the newest bear in our bear pack. Rutherford's blood runs yellow and black. He's one of us. Security isn't like the other departments. No, it's a higher calling. We stand shoulder to shoulder, holding the line against dangers known and unknown. No greater honour than to die beside you in battle. Yes, Rutherford, you're never going to have to see the inside of a Jefferies tube again.
RUTHERFORD: Thank you, sir. This all sounds fun but not for me.
SHAXS: What?
RUTHERFORD: My heart's in engineering. I'd like permission to leave the bear pack.
SHAXS: Rutherford, that is... outstanding! Got to be true to yourself! Am I right, bears? Hoorah!
RUTHERFORD: Aw, bears.

[Countryside]

MARINER: Come on, we got to take a shortcut. We're almost out of time.
BOIMLER: Whatever. Who cares?
MARINER: I clearly do.
FERENGI: Greetings, hyoo-mons. I noticed you are injured. Perhaps I could provide you transport.
BOIMLER: Er... no, thank you, sir. Yeah, right. Can you believe this guy?
MARINER: Actually, yeah, that would be great. We're kind of in a hurry.
BOIMLER: Wait, what?
FERENGI: Excellent. My shuttle is just beyond that ridge. Come, come.
BOIMLER: What are you doing? We can't trust a Ferengi.
MARINER: What? He's not a Ferengi.
BOIMLER: Yes, he is!
MARINER: No, I think he's a Bolian.
BOIMLER: Oh, my God! He could not be more Ferengi. The big ears, the beady eyes, that greedy thing they do with their hands.
FERENGI: Hyoo-mon. Myah.
BOIMLER: Ferengi are the most untrustworthy race in the galaxy. He probably just wants to lure us over there so he can mug us.
MARINER: Look, we need a ride now, and my gut is telling me this is fine. Need I remind you that you've been wrong about literally everything today?
BOIMLER: Not this.
MARINER: Uh-huh... sure. Okay, buddy. Let's go.
FERENGI: Good, good. Follow me right this...
BOIMLER: What's your landing code?
FERENGI: Er... what?
BOIMLER: Tulganan security requires all shuttlecraft to provide a secure landing code. If you really have a shuttle here, you must have a code.
FERENGI: Oh, my code, yes. It's, er... right... here! (draws blade) Give me your profit!
MARINER: Oh!
(Boimler grabs her phaser and shoots the blade to pieces.)
FERENGI: Aah! Starfleet!
BOIMLER: Hey, Ferengi, get. Get out of here! Get! Get!
MARINER: Okay, maybe you were right. That, er... that seems like that might've been a Ferengi.
BOIMLER: I was so right, yes! Holy crap, it's the shuttle. It's the shuttle!
(Parked outside the Federation Embassy, with a load of violation stickers on the front screen. Mariner brushes them off.)
MARINER: Bye-bye.
BOIMLER: Isn't that illegal?
MARINER: What are they gonna do, send me a bill in space?
BOIMLER: Fair enough. If we gun it, we can just make it back in time.

[Yosemite]

(K'orin is passed out and snoring.)
BOIMLER: Oh, man, he drank everything! What do we do?
MARINER: Grab a leg. Let's drag him out and leave him by the front door, unless you don't think that's Starfleet enough.
BOIMLER: It isn't, but let's do it.

[Federation Embassy]

K'ORIN: I demand you give me an honourable...
EMBASSY OFFICER: Someone contact the Cerritos, tell them we finally found K'orin. He is just in time for the peace accords.
K'ORIN: Fetch me my drinking horn. I need ale.
EMBASSY OFFICER: Are you f***ing kidding me? No! Stop that.

[Yosemite]

MARINER: Whoo, what a day! Man, that escort mission kind of went off the rails, huh?
BOIMLER: Sure did.
MARINER: Can't believe I didn't realise that was a Ferengi in the park. Hey, er... so do you think maybe, maybe, fun idea, we could just keep it between us?
BOIMLER: For sure. We're in a circle of trust. This is a shuttle of silence.
(Puts his badge back on.)

[Lounge]

BOIMLER: So the Ferengi's right there, and I'm like, "Mariner, we can't trust this guy. He's a Ferengi". And then she says, she says, get this, she says, "Oh, no, that's a Bolian". Bolian!
MARINER: Okay, okay. Yep, yep, all right.
BOIMLER: After this long day of being a badass, Captain Know-It-All over here doesn't even know what a Ferengi was.
MARINER: It wasn't as clear as that.
BOIMLER: "Myah, myah, hyoo-mon!" He was doing the hand thing and everything.
MARINER: All right, yeah, no, that's my cue to go just launch myself out an air lock. You guys have a great night.
BOIMLER: Lucky I was there! I spotted it. I called it. I called it.
RUTHERFORD: Tendi, I'm sorry. I tried to make it work in another division. I just couldn't do it. I belong in the tubes. I'm not gonna be able to watch the pulsar with you.
TENDI: All right, whatever. I'll just watch it in there with you on my PADD.
RUTHERFORD: Wait, you can? We don't have to go to the observation deck or anything?
TENDI: Nah, I just wanted company. I mean, it's not like you were trying all those new jobs just to hang with me, right?
RUTHERFORD: No, yeah, no. Could you imagine?

[Mariner's bunk]

(Making a video call on her PADD.)
QUIMP: Ah, Mariner, was I convincing enough for you, "hyoo-mon"?
MARINER: You were perfect, Quimp. Thanks for helping out.
QUIMP: Of course. I owed you one.
MARINER: How's the wife?
QUIMP: She's good. We're actually looking to get away to Risa this weekend.
MARINER: What? Ah, jealous. Oh, you know what you guys should try? Jamaharon.

[Jefferies tube]

TENDI: Wow. Isn't it amazing?
RUTHERFORD: It's beautiful.