I spent most of today watching Where No One Has Gone Before and writing up a review of it for TV Squad. I really, really like this episode, and I think it's one of the better ones we did in the first season, especially after the trainwrecks that were The Last Outpost, Naked Now, and Code of Honor.
A few minutes later in engineering, Kosinski whizzes on the engine and Riker and Argyle follow as he gets ready to do his thing. Trekkies who may have begun to dislike Kosinski immediately start a fan club for him when he stops mid-stream to ask "why is this child here?" in reference to Wesley Crusher, who is working on a school project and decked out in a really sweet burnt sienna sweater, straight out of famed Klingon designer K'Talh Ba'akQoth's fall collection. (No joke: William Ware Theiss, the original costume designer, had me go to some dude's house to have my colors done. As a 14 year-old who was really into the sweet pastels and bright neon colors of the late 80s, I was horrified to discover I was an "autumn with a hint of winter, honey," who would get to wear oranges, browns, greens, and pukes until I finally got my official spacesuit, which honestly wasn't much better.)I tried to balance humor with behind the scenes stuff, and keep the whole thing under 2500 words. Well, I came in at 2700 words, but I'm still happy with it. I hope you like it, and tell me that I'm pretty and smart and funny.
After a few more moments of Kosinski being a a condescending dick, Riker cockblocks him, and makes him explain exactly how his cute little spaceship speeding up thing works. While he explains, his assistant naturally ignores all the open engineering consoles, and takes the one where Wesley is working. Jesus! Didn't Argyle just tell them it was a school project? What the hell, dude?
Wesley watches the assistant lay in some commands, but something bothers him, so the assistant lets Wesley tinker with the coordinates himself. Oh yeah, that's not going to cause any problems or piss off the audience at all. After Wesley is done, the assistant gives him a look that, in retrospect, is about an 8.6 on the Mark Foley scale of creepiness.
Er. What? Ah, it must be Friday.
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