Star Trek: Lower Decks

Shaxs has the gym in 20,

but we should have time for a quick round.

Ooh, you guys gonna go 'anbo? Can I get in on that?

Sure! More the merrier.

Three months of midnight practice

is finally gonna pay off.

Can't wait to see the look on her face.

Glad you're still into this. I was worried

maybe I came down too hard on you last time.

Hopefully we picked up a few of your moves.

Nothing like some friendly Anbo-jyutsu to work up a sweat.

Ha. We've been training on the holodeck at night.

You might want to take off the kid gloves.

Oh. Ah...

- Are you okay? I didn't mean... - I'm great.

I can finally get in a real workout.

Uh...

Oh, God. No, no, no, no!

Ah! Ah!

Put the kid gloves on! Put the kid gloves on!

Shaxs! Help!

Don't worry about me, I'm early.

You've still got ten minutes.

Well, if raktajino makes you all jumpy,

then just switch to human coffee.

Eh, I tried,

but it's too weak...

Shh! Did you hear something?

Ah. Ah, ah, ah, ah...

Ah!

Captain's log, stardate 58036.4:

TheCerritos is en route to Frylon IV

to investigate the reported sighting of a mugato,

a dangerous creature not indigenous to this planet.

"Poisonous, carnivorous, strength of ten men."

Huh, sounds like my ex.

I can't believe we pulled another animal control op,

as if there weren't more important jobs for us to do.

The bio-electrical signatures on Frylon has made it difficult

to pinpoint life signs,

but with boots on the ground, we'll find her.

Let's see, hmm, hmm, hmm... What about...

a ten percent gratuity on a biannual basis?

Hmm, worth considering...

- What up?! - Ah!

Wow, flinch much? Hey, work later.

Let's hit the phaser range. I need moving targets.

This isn't work, we're playing Diplomath.

And, we're at a crucial point in the negotiation.

- We're both about to lose! - Why is that good?

If both sides are equally unsatisfied

with the negotiation, you can close the deal!

Ready for final offers?

- Eh, I don't like it. - I guess I can live with that.

- That's a compromise! - Oh, boy.

I'd say you guys should take up a less-embarrassing hobby,

but it might be too late.

Honus! Can we get two more?

Yeah, maybe with some pain reliever mixed in?

Ah, yeah. Not surprised you fellas need a drink

after talkin' with that powder keg friend of yours.

Huh? You talking about Mariner?

If'n that's her real name.

Haven't you boys ever wondered how she's able to

kick so much ass and get away with whatever she wants?

Uh, 'cause her mom's the captain and she practices kicking a lot?

Usually on us.

Workin' the bar, I hear a lot

of inside information.

Your friend is a specially trained secret agent

for Starfleet black ops.

- Ha-ha-ha. Shut up, Honus! - Yeah, right, okay, man.

I'm telling you, they made her into a killing machine.

The perfect weapon.

We spend all of our time with Mariner.

Pretty sure we'd know if she was "the perfect weapon."

Most of the time she's napping.

Of course she does. Captain's daughter,

friends with the softest guys on the ship;

It's the perfect cover.

Haven't you ever noticed that she seems to know

every fightin' style?

She is a master of Anbo-jyutsu...

Look, we may be soft, but we're not gullible.

Just watch out. When her back's against the wall,

that's when the training kicks in.

She's programmed to protect herself at all costs.

All costs.

Okay, buddy, you heard wrong.

I bet they didn't believe the rumors on the Atlantiseither,

until it was too late, and they were all...

Honus, could you get back to work?!

Billups is still waiting on his peach daiquiri.

Ah, keep your pips on, Billups.

- That guy's so full of it. - Yeah, right?

As if Starfleet would ever hide a black ops agent

- on one of their own ships. - Yeah.

I mean, Starfleet Intelligence does it.

And Tuvok did it when he infiltrated the Maquis.

And there were a ton during the Dominion War.

But on the Cerritos? Yeah, right.

Yeah, right...

Oh! Looks like we have a spike in the subcortical.

Let's move, people!

I need 30cc's of desalinated paviatic fluid.

- On it. - Uh, technically,

that's my patient.

Clear the area!

That's fine. I...

Ensign Tendi, my office.

I'm sorry, Doctor, I know you said I need to be

- more assertive, I just... - Okay, okay, whatever.

This is a list of crew who've avoided their annual physicals.

But why? The biometric scan is non-invasive.

Some freaks hate being reduced to a set of readings.

I need you to hunt them down and scan their asses.

You got what it takes?

Yes! Thank you for this opportunity.

I won't let you down.

So I was reading up on the mugatos.

Did you know they have alternative pronunciations?

Mogatu, mugutu, and gumato.

Isn't that neat and inconsistent?

- Mm. - Dude, I'm talking

alien pronunciations here.

That's, like, your favorite thing.

- What's up? - Check this out.

Mariner's record.

Don't tell me you actually believe that bartender.

Mariner has served on a lot of ships.

Because she's always getting demoted.

Yeah. That's what shesays.

Look. When she served on the Atlantis,

half the crew mysteriously vanished.

I'm sure it was just a reassignment.

A hundred reassignments? Plus,

there's nothing in the logs about it.

Just one day, poof, all gone.

That is weird. You don't think she had anything to do with it?

Who to do with what?

Whoa! You guys see that?

What's got you so jumpy?

Just excited to see a mugato.

Oh, you would be. Just stay out of my way down there. Or else.

Aah! Or else what?

I don't know, we'll get poisoned by a mugato.

You guys are so weird sometimes.

Shaxs, our sensors indicate a storm moving in.

You've got less than 22 minutes

before we lose comms.

Copy that, Captain. You all got the briefing.

No weapons. These mugutus are endangered,

and their genitals are sensitive to phaser fire.

All right, fan out.

This is where we detected a gumato life sign.

Ah, what have we here?

- Mugato dung. - Ew!

Fresh. Tangy.

She doesn't seem dangerous.

I think we're being silly billies.

Even if Mariner was black ops, which she is not,

that bartender said she'd only flip out

if her back was against the wall.

This is just one random mugato, we're fine.

Yo, it's pretty clear we're going in the right direction.

You don't have to...

Mm-hmm.

Oh.

Ferengi.

Clear them out, fools.

I need to show off the fresh merchandise.

I'll take a dozen horns. Are they horns or tusks?

They're whatever you want them to be,

as long as your latinum's gold-pressed.

They're harvesting these animals.

Boimler to Cerritos.

Look, they've got a signal dampener.

It's jamming this whole area.

Looks like we're on our own.

Just how I like it, backs against the wall.

I think we should retreat and...

Let's move.

Starfleet!

Ferengi poachers, you are violating

the conservation laws of Federation space.

Oh, this is Federation space?

I didn't know that. Did you know that?

Oh, thank the maker you're here. I was being attacked by these...

You were purchasing illegal horns.

Stand down and prepare to be searched.

Hey, no need for all this. We're licensed businessmen.

Oh, really? You have a permit?

Yes, a permit to whip you!

- Mugato stampede! - Take cover!

- What do we do?! - I don't know! Where's Shaxs?!

No! Aah...

It's real. She's going to kill us!

But there's mugatos out there!

Yeah, but she's in here!

Captain, we have an unknown ship