Star Trek: Lower Decks wrapped up its fifth and final season recently, and I am devastated. Okay, maybe not “lost in the Delta Quadrant” devastated, but I’m seriously going to miss this quirky gem of a series. In the flood of Star Trek content that Paramount+ has been beaming into our screens—some of which has drawn… let’s call it polarized feedback—there have been two undeniable standouts: Strange New Worlds and this animated masterpiece.
When Lower Decks was announced back in 2018, it was the quirky underdog of the Trek universe. All eyes were on the flashy live-action fare like Discovery and Patrick Stewart’s long-awaited return in Picard. Who had time for a goofy animated half-hour show about ensigns on a second-tier starship? Turns out, we all should have. By its second season, Lower Decks had stunned critics and fans alike, earning a 100% score on Rotten Tomatoes—a feat that’s as rare these days as a Klingon sipping tea and saying, “Let’s talk about our feelings.”
Set aboard the USS Cerritos—a ship assigned to the glamourless task of “Second Contact” missions—Lower Decks gave us a Star Trek story from the ground up. Instead of the usual senior officer drama, this series focused on the lives of four ensigns: Beckett Mariner, Brad Boimler, D’Vana Tendi, and Sam Rutherford. Living up to their “lower deckers” moniker, they slept in hallway bunks and griped endlessly about their menial duties. Later seasons brought in Ensign T’Lyn, a Vulcan so un-Vulcanlike that her own captain shipped her off for being too emotional.
What made Lower Decks truly stand out wasn’t just its humor, though that was stellar. It was the way the show balanced relentless in-jokes and deep-cut references (“Wolf 359 was an inside job!”) with genuinely engaging, heartfelt storytelling. This series wasn’t just Star Trek fan service—it was Star Trek fan love.
Every week, the Cerritos crew got themselves into some ridiculous new pickle, but the heart of the show was always the camaraderie between Mariner, Boimler, Tendi, Rutherford and later T’Lyn. Their chemistry felt so real, you almost expected to see them hanging out at the ship’s bar after each episode. Over time, they grew into more seasoned officers, trading their lower deck bunks for shared rooms—a minor promotion, but a major win for their friendship.
The series finale struck the perfect balance between heartfelt and hilarious. It wrapped all of the loose plot points through the series and feature an exciting high stakes “save the universe” climatic race against time and showdown with Klingon birds-of-prey. In the end, everyone pulled through and they have created something phenomenal, the first stable gateway between the Star Trek multiverses. I truly relish the story telling opportunities from such a premise…
As the Cerritos pulled away in the final scene, Mariner’s closing monologue hit all the right notes: “We’re gonna be okay—this isn’t the end of a story, it’s the beginning.” Cue the tears.
I want to believe that Mariner’s right. Lower Decks deserves a new beginning—whether it’s a spin-off, a movie, or even the occasional guest appearance in Strange New Worlds (come on, Paramount+, make it so!). Until then, I’ll be rewatching the Cerritos crew’s adventures and laughing at every obscure Trek reference like it’s my first time hearing it.
Goodbye, Lower Decks. You were the underdog we didn’t know we needed, and now you’re the classic we’ll always cherish.
Live long and prosper, you magnificent nerds. ?