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This Star Trek "fanfic" is just for MiSTies, and specifically,
readers of MiSTs. If it gets MSTed in turn, well, life is tough on the internet.
As someone's momma always used to say, "Satire is as satire does."
-----------------------------------
(Six months after _Generations_.)
Picard strode into the starbase research lab where his former second
officer and his former chief engineer had been working for the past five
months. They left their work stations and greeted him.
"Captain!" said Geordi, "We're glad you decided to visit."
"How could I not, after I got your message?" asked Picard. "You
claim to have found a way to recover the _Enterprise-D_, intact?"
"Yes sir," said Geordi. "I know it sounds incredible...."
"'Ludicrous' is more the word I was thinking of," Picard replied.
"An understandable reaction," said Data. "Nevertheless, we believe
it is possible."
"And how do you propose to accomplish this miracle?"
Data and Geordi glanced at each other nervously. Finally, Geordi
answered, "We think we've found a way to generate a stable plot hole."
"A *stable* plot hole?" Picard had the greatest respect for these
two officers, but he was beginning to wonder if he shouldn't try to find
them field assignments as soon as possible. The Federation needed more
mad scientists the way well-fed tribbles needed aphrodisiacs.
"Yes sir," Data continued. "Just as a stable wormhole connects two
distant points in space and time, so a stable plot hole would connect
two separate realities, allowing people and objects to pass through at
will."
Geordi pointed towards the lab's main equipment. "We started by
connecting two devices which have each caused more than their share of
unstable plot holes: a transporter, and a warp field generator."
Geordi turned to face Picard. "Remember, on the _Enterprise_, how we
once hooked just those two devices together and generated a temporary
plot hole to enable you to transport over several light years and save
the life of your kidnapped son, who turned out not to be your son after
all?"
Picard nodded and smiled to himself just a bit. He'd seen more plot
holes in the past seven years than most Star Fleet officers see in a
lifetime, and he had learned how to utilize them to accomplish his
missions. That particular plot hole was one of his personal favorites.
Geordi walked to a control panel on the far wall. "We've gone
beyond that, by connecting the transporter and warp field generator to
he greatest single source of plot holes and contrivances since its
invention." He punched the controls and a door slid open, revealing the
interior of a holodeck.
"That's just stupid enough to work!" Picard briefly thought in
alarm. Then a more rational part of his mind took over, and he asked,
"You don't think that, by itself, will generate a plot hole, do you? In
my experience, plot holes exist only to cause, or to resolve, some
specific crisis."
"Yes, sir," said Data. "Ordinarily, that would be true. However,
we believe we have found an abundant artificial source for such
'crises.'"
Picard arched his eyebrows. "Where?"
Again, Geordi and Data looked embarrassed. Finally, Data answered.
"As you know, sir, our missions on board the flagship of Star Fleet
always generated a great deal of media attention. Our activities, when
not classified, were extensively reported upon. As a result, we now
have rather a large following of ... 'fans.'"
Picard nodded grimly. He personally had restraining orders against
over 50 Federation civilians who were a little too eager to, shall we
say, invade his privacy. Most of the Enterprise's senior officers were
in a similar situation.
"Several thousand of these fans are also amateur writers," Data
continued. "They have written numerous fictional accounts with
ourselves as the main characters, stories known colloquially as
'fanfics.'"
Picard closed his eyes and slowly leaned his head back against the
cold metal wall. If he had known, if he had only known, he might never
have accepted the commission to captain the _Enterprise_. Most junior
Star Fleet officers had enough common sense, plus personal respect and
fear for Picard, never to mention those "fanfics" in his presence. But
word gets around. There was always the clueless admiral, every now and
then, who couldn't resist needling Picard over some particularly banal
script. Picard's closest friends assured him that some fanfics were
well-written, and a few of the parodies were well-deserved send-ups of
their media personae. He couldn't deny that one or two of the fanfics
he'd seen --- how could he avoid reading a few? --- actually made more
sense than some of the Enterprise's *real* adventures. But so many of
those fanfics, particularly the ones that focused on the officers'
personal lives, revealed far more about the authors' psyches than Picard
wanted to know. Sometimes, Picard told himself that fanfics were a
passing fad, a harmless training ground for young writers; most of the
time he tried to actively deny their very existence.
While Picard was musing, Data had walked over to another work
station and called up several files. "One college student in particular
has been quite prolific recently, writing nearly a dozen fanfics with
astonishingly consistent plot holes --- holes big enough to drive a
starship through," Data added with a slight smile and a glance out of
the corners of his eyes. "Moreover, all of these improbable scripts
revolve around a fascinatingly consistent theme."
Picard glanced towards the open door on the far side of the lab.
"And you intend to run these fanfics on the holodeck?" Picard asked
with an ill-defined emotion closer to horror than anything else.
"We already have, Captain," piped up Geordi. A small part of
Picard's mind wondered whether he could find a way to make this a court-
martial offense. "Unfortunately," said Geordi, "every time the holodeck
program reached a point in the script where a massive plot contrivance
was needed, it blew the computer's main logic sequencers. But we think
we've found a way around that."
"Whenever the holoscript calls for the characters to perform a
massively improbable technical feat in a short amount of time, it hands
off the problem to this computer which we recently obtained from the
Cochrane Institute." Geordi indicated one of two large mainframes
connected to the holodeck computer. "It has been programmed with the
design and specifications of every powerful alien artifact and
technology discovered by Star Fleet, but never utilized or mentioned
again."
"And the other computer?" Picard asked with a growing sense of
dread.
"That one," said Data, "is designed to rationalize the blatantly
illogical and non-sensical decisions which fanfic characters frequently
make in order to advance the author's agenda. We estimate that there is
no premise so absurd that cannot be rationalized by this computer. It
has been programmed, by the Judge Advocate General's office, with every
excuse ever logged by a Star Fleet captain for violating the Prime
Directive."
"Very ... impressive," said Picard. In fact, his skin was beginning
to crawl. Starship captains develop an intuition about danger,
particularly the powerful and malevolent dangers which can disguise
themselves as something innocuous. Yet Data and Geordi did not seem to
share Picard's misgivings; or if they did, they hid them well. Finally,
Picard turned his thoughts back to the reason for this meeting. "But
how will all of this help to recover the _Enterprise_?"
Data walked to the main holodeck controls and began entering
commands. "We have asked that particular college student to write an
alternate version of our encounter with Dr. Soran and the destruction of
the _Enterprise_. His script was to be consistent with his usual style
of writing, but with the stipulation that the _Enterprise-D_ was to
survive the battle and be recovered, intact but with no crew aboard, a
few months after its apparent destruction. We left it to his
imagination as to how he achieved this."
"You mean you actually commissioned the writing of a fanfic?"
Picard interjected.
"Yes sir," Data answered matter-of-factly, apparently oblivious to
Picard's incredulity.
Geordi quickly continued, "We plan to run it on this holodeck. When
the script reaches the point where the intact _Enterprise_ re-emerges,
we'll feed the output into the transporter pattern buffers, then send
the signal out through the warp field generators. If all goes as
planned, this will bring the fictional _Enterprise_ into our reality."
Picard glanced back and forth between the two officers. Again, it
was only his great personal respect for them which kept him from
ordering the immediate cessation of the project and dismantling of the
equipment. Instead, he asked the obvious question: "But how can that
work? These pieces of equipment operate upon entirely different
principles. You can't just hook them together with wires and conduits
and hope they'll interact the way you say."
Data and Geordi once again glanced at each other nervously. Picard
braced himself. "Well sir," Geordi began, "that is a bit of a plot
hole. However, if our theory is right, it won't matter. In fact, it
may be critical for success. Only by generating plot holes in the
alternate reality and in our reality *simultaneously* could we hope for
stable bridge."
Picard felt himself standing at the edge of a precipice; the vertigo
made him dizzy. Madness or perhaps worse lay beyond. All of his
instincts screamed against it. He gazed out the laboratory's windows
into space and imagined seeing the _Enterprise-D_ emerging from the
darkness, majestic, ready for him to take command again. He compared it
to the kind of pencil-pushing job he was likely to be assigned for the
next several years, or, worse yet, shepherding hundreds of annoying
young cadets through Star Fleet Academy.
"Make it so."
Picard stood on the holodeck, holding a cup of Earl Gray tea,
watching the events of the alternate-reality fanfic unfold. As far as
the holodeck program was concerned, he was "transparent;" he could
interact with objects, but the characters were programmed to ignore his
presence and actions. So far, the script was paralleling historical
events quite closely. By this time in the script, he had already beamed
down to the planet to confront Dr. Soran, while Geordi had returned to
the _Enterprise_ from Lursa and B'etor's bird-of-prey. The only
difference Picard could tell from the actual events was the crewperson
at the helm. She was a young girl, certainly no more than 14 years old,
yet with lieutenant's pips on her uniform. She looked vaguely familiar,
but Picard couldn't place it. He took a sip of tea and was about to use
the aft stations on the holodeck bridge to call up the service record on
this girl, when Doctor Crusher's voice came over the intercom.
"Crusher to bridge. We've got a problem, Commander. Dr. Soran must
have injected Commander LaForge with a deadly virus before releasing
him. The whole ship is infected. I've got the computers searching for
a cure, but it's going to take several hours. If we don't get every
affected person into medical stasis, they'll die in the next 30 minutes.
All adults are affected, but children under 15 seem immune."
"Understood," said Riker. "Begin preparations for stasis on cargo
decks one, five, and eight immediately." Riker closed communications
and turned to the girl at helm. "Lieutenant Picard, activate Kids Crew
and take command."
It was a classic spit-take; the holographic ensign standing next to
Picard wound up with a mouthful of Earl Gray all over his uniform.
To prepare its officers for a lifetime of facing the great unknowns
of the final frontier, Star Fleet Academy teaches both introductory and
advanced courses in Stretching Credulity. Yet nothing in all of
Picard's training, or the decades of active duty which followed, had
prepared him for what he just witnessed, or what he was about to
witness.
Picard watched with a sort of horrid fascination as the events of
the fanfic unfolded. When Lursa and B'etor attacked the _Enterprise_,
only their first torpedo did any damage. The Klingon ship was easily
defeated by the young acting captain. Almost immediately, five more
Klingon ships loyal to Lursa and B'etor arrived. While the _Enterprise_
held its own in a five-on-one firefight, the acting captain beamed one
member of her "Kids Crew" onto each Klingon ship. The children quickly
defeated shipfulls of trained warriors, and soon all the Klingon ships
were captured. The Klingon crews were beamed down to the planet, and
newly-recovered Enterprise personnel were sent over to crew the Klingon
ships, though the Kids Crew officers remained in command of each
captured ship. Suddenly, an unknown alien ship of incredible power flew
through the sector on its way to Earth. The acting captain and her kid-
captained fleet gave chase, but their weapons did little damage to the
alien craft. Just as the aliens were closing in on Earth, she
transported the crew and herself off the _Enterprise_ and programmed the
ship to execute a series of attacks which provoked the alien ship into
following it on a high-warp dive towards the sun, whereupon the klingon
ships used their tractor beams to cause a massive solar flare which
destroyed the alien ship. Of the _Enterprise_, there was no trace.
The fanfic then jumped forward in time several months. Picard was
already feeling numb from what he had witnessed, but the script was
relentless. At an official celebration for the young girl who had saved
the Earth, she turned down the offer to be vice-president of the United
Federation of Planets and governor of a dozen colonies, insisting that
she should remain in Star Fleet, since, after all, she was Star Fleet's
greatest battle tactician, third-greatest pilot, sixth-greatest
marksman, third-greatest intelligence operative, second-greatest treaty
negotiator ... and besides, she already knew which ship she wanted to
command when she was promoted to full captain (which was expected in a
year or so). At this point, she directed everyone's attention to the
viewports facing the sun. She explained that when she sent the
_Enterprise_ into the sun, she calculated its trajectory to enter time-
travel just as the solar flare hit, and it should be emerging right
about....
At that moment, the _Enterprise-D_ flared into existence, flying out
of the sun, dropping out of warp, and coasting to a stop. Sunlight
gleamed off its saucer and nacelles. Its image filled the holodeck.
"Now!" said Data, as he shunted the holographic patterns into the
transporter. As Geordi increased the power to the warp field generator,
then deliberately imbalanced the field to create the beginnings of a
wormhole, Data entered the final commands to transfer the patterns.
Both officers turned to a large viewport and watched in amazement as,
one kilometer from the starbase, a wormhole began to form. Complex and
iridescent patterns danced into view. "It's actually working,"
whispered Geordi.
Their reverie was broken as alarms went off all over their lab.
Picard watched as the holographic _Enterprise_ began to flicker in
and out of existence. The atmosphere rushed past him, as if towards a
hull breach. "Computer! Arch!" he yelled. The arch appeared and he
struggled against gale-force winds towards the door. He tried to order
the door to open, but the wind whipped his words away and he couldn't be
heard over the screeching of tortured metal. Space itself seemed to
warp around the holographic ship.
As he felt his consciousness slipping away, Picard thought he heard
voices in the wind, or perhaps only in his mind. "... Mankind just
isn't ready for this kind of power, Will." "... And absolute power
corrupts absolutely, don't you think I've thought of that?" "... If all
this makes a man a god --- or does it make him something else? MITCHELL!!"
At the last moment, the doors partially opened. Data grabbed Picard
and pulled him out of the holodeck. Geordi and Data steadied the
captain, then helped him to the viewport. All three watched as the
_Enterprise-D_ slowly emerged from the wormhole outside the starbase.
Several seconds passed in silence. The wormhole closed; the transporter
inactivated; the warp field generators returned to standby, but the
starship remained. They knew its lines and markings well. They
remembered the years spent aboard her, and contemplated what wonders the
future might hold. The implications of what they were seeing, of what
they had just done, were too vast for words.
Their thoughts were interrupted by an unexpected sound. The
holodeck doors were opening again. They turned and saw a 13-year-old
girl in a Star Fleet uniform emerge. Picard's eyes widened in shock as
she ran towards him, hugged him, and yelled, "Dad!"
"Aaaaauuuugggghhhh!" screamed Tom Servo. Cambot, who had been
monitoring Tom carefully for the last several minutes, pulled away from
his extreme close-up. Tom righted himself, then took off at top speed
towards the main bridge of the SOL (with Cambot trailing close behind),
yelling, "Mike! Mike! Mike!"
"What is it, Tom? What's the matter?" said Mike as he tried to calm
the near-hysterical robot.
"Mike, remember how I asked you to install a new board in me and
help program it so that I could experiment with dreaming?"
"Yes."
"Well, TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT!"
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The usual fanfic disclaimers apply: Mystery Science Theater 3000 and
its characters are trademarks and copyright of Best Brains. Star Trek:
TNG and its characters are the trademarks and copyrighted cash cow of
Paramount. No infringement of their or anyone else's copyright is
intended. All references are for purposes of commentary and satire and are
intended in good fun. ![]()