3x04 The Swarm

[8.0/10] This may be my platonic ideal for what a “normal” episode of Star Trek: Voyager should be like. The central plot is one with real personal stakes, born out with relationships among the characters, and tied to a specific practical problem. And the B-story is the sort of tale that only makes sense for Voyager to tell, one which features tough but pragmatic decisions from the Captain, and a unique enemy we haven't seen in the Alpha Quadrant before. If ever there were a model for this show to follow on a week-to-week basis, it’s “The Swarm”.

The A-story sees The Doctor’s memories, and eventually his whole program, degrading through a combination of being active far longer than intended and for the various elements of personality and other non-medical aspects added to his programming.

The story works because the stakes are clear and meaningful. From a practical perspective, the overload of the Doc’s memory circuits means they might not have a physician on board if things continue to go wrong. But fixing the Doctor might mean having to erase all that he’s learned, experienced, and become over the last two years. The Doctor is my favorite character on the show, so the prospect of him having to start over, having to discard all the rich and endearing experiences he’s had over the past two seasons, is as worrying a possibility for the audience as it is for the characters in the show.

The central question here is a fairly straightforward, but undeniably compelling one -- is the Doctor worth saving? It’s pretty easy for the average Trekkie, who’s been trained to accept outsiders to humanity like Spock and Odo and especially Data as equally worthy souls to say yes. But I enjoy “The Swarm” as a referendum on whether our prickly but lovable holographic doctor is an appliance that needs to be fixed or a person that needs to be saved, even if the answer is clearly the latter.

It helps that we see The Doctor struggle and suffer. The slips in his memory are akin to Alzheimers and other degenerative diseases. The way he can't remember how to do procedures, worries about not being there for the crew, starts to be able to not recognize his dearest friends or most important experiences drift in and out are truly tragic. You feel for the Doctor, because as the audience, we’ve seen what he’s losing, both in terms of his meaningful encounters, and in the connections he’s forged with the crew. It’s understandable why Janeway’s willing to put real resources behind finding another option other than a clean reinstallation.

Unfortunately, Janeway has other problems here too. I love the arrival of the titular swarm, an alien race who are truly alien, and different than anything our heroes have encountered before. Theirs is one of the truly freaky Star Trek designs, as they’re giant bug creatures who speak in terrifying clicks and blast at a moment's notice. I was legitimately creeped out when they arrived on Tom and B’Elanna’s shuttle. The fact that their language is so different that the universal translator can’t decode it makes them feel all the more frighteningly unknowable. And the tales of the sole survivor of their last attack have a Thomas Decker-like quality in the ability to sell the fearsomeness of what our heroes are up against without us having to see it.

The enemies themselves are unique in their methods beyond the threat they pose. THe notion of a group of a million little bugger ships, not attacking, but simply siphoning off a vessel’s power until it’s ripe for the plucking is distinctive and terrifying. The face against them, the standard reverse-the-polarity assault on them, and even the fisticuffs with the giant insect men on the bridge all make this one of the more heart-pumping Delta Quadrant snarls to date.

On a smaller scale, this one has character. It’s interesting to see the show trotting out a Han-Leia type dynamic between Tom and B’Elanna in their little shuttle excursion. Hearing the Captain talk about sneaking past her parents’ bedroom, and leaving her intentions up to her subordinates’ imaginations is a cute, wry moment. The stakes are big in both the A-story and the B-story, but there's personality in it too.

I particularly love the fact that Janeway says, “I’m not adding fifteen months to this journey, we’re barging through this hostile space as quickly as possible instead.” One of my frustrations with early Voyager is that it often elides the tough choices a Captain would have to make so far from home. The way Janeway’s stuck to her guns in the past is noble, but seems shortsighted. So seeing ehr take a chance, and recognize that observing Tuvok’s quoted Starfleet regulations about not entering alien territory is not worth more than a year’s extra travel is heartening to someone like me, who wants to see the show embrace its premise more.

The threats from combating the swarm have consequences to the A-story, because it means the Doctor can’t rely on B’Elanna or even Harry to help fix his problem. Instead it falls to an energetic Kes and, believe it or not, a holographic representation of the EMH’s creator, Dr. Zimmerman.

There's an inherent, Data-esque thrill to seeing Robert Picardo play two roles here: The Doctor and Dr. Zimmerman. But more to the point, Dr. Z represents the contrary view of the EMH -- that “it” is a simple tool, and that by allowing him to grow and explore his personhood, the crew of Voyager has filled him with unnecessary junk. A more bushy-haired grump version of someone we know helps put the Doctor’s bedside manner into perspective, but also symbolizes the dissenting view on whether Doc’s journey to date has been worthwhile.

Thankfully, there's Kes as a counterweight. I rag on her a fair bit, so it’s worth noting that I think her best role on the show is as a friend to and advocate for The Doctor. She cares about him, validates what he’s accomplished and experience in his time on Voyager, and works ceaselessly to help save him when it counts.

She also unlocks the subtle theme of the episode -- growth and possibility beyond where you started. The obvious candidate for that is Doc, whose growth is both the source of the problem but also the thing worth preserving. But the same goes for Kes, who not only steps up in The Doctor’s absence to run sick bay, but is the one who uses the sort of analytical thinking she developed under his tutelage to devise a way to save him. Even the holographic diagnostic program grows, being willing to sacrifice himself to save someone he previously treated as no different than a malfunctioning replicator.

Everyone goes above and beyond, proving their worth beyond what anyone originally thought of them. So when the Doctor comes back, seemingly set his base programming again, it’s sad, because it represents the idea that it was all for naught. And then he starts humming his operas, a charming sign that it’s all still in there, even if it may take some time for everything to come back.

What more can you ask for from a standard Voyager episode? It’s not complicated. I wouldn’t describe it as something that plumbs the thematic or psychological depths that the best Star Trek outings do. But it finds interesting personal angles,and thrilling new challenges, at every trun. If this were the baseline for Voyager, I’d be a more than happy patient.