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Chapter One "When Titans Clash"
Stardate 4843.1
Along the Cardassian/Federation Border
Bored. That one word accurately described Ensign Travis' state of
mind. After six weeks of charting gaseous anomalies, the young Ensign was
desperate of a change of pace. He'd pictured his first cruise as something
exciting. He'd be onboard the Enterprise, fighting off the Borg or stopping alien
death machines. Instead, he was stationed to the USS Cartwright, where he was
the weapons officer on a nearly unarmed ship. And he was bored out of his
skull.
"Commence scanning of Sector 4201.93.45," Captain Matsu quietly
commanded.
"Beginning the scan, Sir," responded Lt. Hanson.
Ooh, thought Ensign Travis. What will it be this time? Hydrogen?
Helium? Maybe even, wonder of wonders, Argon? Ooh, the mind trembles at
the possibility Travis thought, rolling his eyes. He eyed his the weapons
console longingly. Maybe a rogue comet could come along, threatening an
inhabited planet, and he'd have to blow it up. Travis' expression brightened at
the thought. Yeah, that'd be cool...
Hanson stared at the sensors for a moment in confusion. "Captain, I'm
picking up life signs."
Captain Matsu looked up from his paperwork. "Type?"
Hanson began to adjust the controls. "Indeterminate. Sensors are
trying to identify..."
Travis' sensors lit up and Travis bolted upright. "Captain! We're
being scanned! Damn! We have weapons systems locked on us!"
Captain Matsu yelled, "Shields up! Find me those ships!"
"Ships materializing to the fore! Sector 4201.93.45." Hanson turned to
the Captain. "Sir, sensors report that they're organic."
"We're under fire!" Travis cried. "Six! No, eight sources!"
"Return fire!"
Travis fired the Cartwright's phaser in response. "No effect, sir." The
ships shuddered as the first bolts hit the Cartwright. "Shields down to 42%."
Hanson spoke quietly. "Captain. Those ships. They're from the
Dominion."
Travis reported, "More incoming fire. Sir, we won't survive another
attack."
The Captain quietly spoke. "Signal Starfleet. Tell them we're under
attack by the Dominion."
"Message sent," the communications officer replied.
As the bolts of energy neared the ship, a thought raced through Travis'
mind. "Be careful what you wish for..." Travis' line of thought ended as the
final bolts struck the Cartwright, destroying her and killing 154 crew members,
including the late Ensign Travis.
USS Enterprise-E
Captain Jean-Luc Picard stood at the window of his Ready Room and
watched the stars silently glide by. The recent communique from Star Fleet
Command weighed heavily on his mind. War. Humans long ago had thought
that advanced forms of government would be beyond war. Yet, the third war of
Picard's lifetime was now beginning. Picard shook his head at the thought.
Perhaps, one day that theory would be true, but not today. The door to the
Ready Room chimed. Picard turned to the door. "Come." Commander William
Riker strode into the room.
"You wanted to see me?"
Picard motioned to a chair and headed towards his desk. "Yes,
Number One. I've received some disturbing news from Star Fleet Command. It
seems that the Cardassians have joined forces with the Dominion. Their
combined forces have moved across the Neutral Zone and are engaging our
forces."
"I see. And we've been ordered to lead the counterattack?"
Picard shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Star Fleet expects that the
Cardassians and Dominion will attack Deep Space Nine. We've been ordered
to assist in the defense of the station."
Riker nodded and stood up. "Understood, sir. I'll inform the crew."
Riker stepped towards the door, then paused and turned around. "Sir? The
Stargazer's at DS9, isn't she?"
"Yes, she is."
"You're concerned about her?"
"She's my eldest daughter, Number One."
Riker grinned reassuringly. "I'm sure that she'll be fine, sir."
Picard nodded. "Thank you, Will."
Riker gave a slight nod and strode to the bridge. Picard turned back
towards the Ready Room window.
A voice filled the room. "Of course she'll be fine, Mon Capitan. That
daughter of yours could survive a super nova without a scratch."
Picard angrily scanned the room. "Q!"
A soundless blast of white light filled the room, and the familiar form
of Q materialized, lounging lazily on the Ready Room couch. "Yes?" Q looked
lazily around the room. "Jean Luc, would it kill you to redecorate in here every
once in a while? Perhaps you could rearrange the furniture? Or add some art.."
"Q! I have no time for your games now!"
Q rolled his eyes. "Oh yes. I forgot. The Federation is facing the
gravest threat that it has ever seen. Who is it this time? The Romulans? The
Gorns? The People's Republic of Haven? The Scro? Or is it some new race that
you've never even heard of before?"
"We are at war with the Cardassians and the Dominion, Q. It this
more of your deviltry?"
"Jean-Luc, I'm shocked. Does starting a meager war fit my style? Does
that plan have any of my usual elan? No, it doesn't. This is why I don't come
around here much any more. You've started jumping at shadows. 'Epsilon Indi
is going nova? Q! There's a virus loose on the ship? Q! The replicator is down?
Q!' Sigh. Besides, Jean Luc, your fellow Captains are sooo much more gullible.
I've managed to convince one of them that the Q Continuum is nothing more
than an all-powerful Civil war re-enactment society. Why she ever believed that
is beyond..."
"Q, do you have a reason for being here?" Picard testily interrupted.
"Of course, but your puny little mind couldn't possibly understand it. It
would be as futile for me to explain my reasons to you as it would for you to try
and explain Shakespeare to your fish. Although they'd probably understand
more of it than Worf would..."
"Please get to the point..."
"In a hurry Mon Capitan? I could stop time for you, if it woul.....
AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" Suddenly, Q
clutched his temples and screamed in agony. After crying out in anguish for
what seemed like an eternity, Q vanished in a flash of white light. Moments
later, Commander Worf and a team of security personnel rushed into the ready
room.
"Sir?" asked Worf.
"It's all right, Commander. The crisis seems to have passed." As the
security crew turned to leave, Captain Picard added, "Mr. Worf?"
Worf turned to the Captain. "Sir?"
"Stay alert."
Moments before, Somewhere in Time and Space:
Mike Nelson strolled towards the bridge of the Satellite of Love,
whistling an aimless tune. As the doors opened, he heard sounds of activity on
the bridge. Steeling himself for the worst, he strode towards the Bridge's
control console, where his companions Crow T Robot and Tom Servo stood
clustered about a large piece of machinery. "Hi Tom. Hi Crow. Whatcha
doing?"
The small golden robot looked up from the device. "Oh, hi Mike. Tom
and I found one of the other guy's old inventions, and we're fixing it up to see if
we can get it to work."
Mike nodded. "Okay." That seems harmless enough, he thought.
"What's the invention? A floating disco ball for those on the go parties? An
edible briefcase for the executive who's too busy for lunch? Beanie Bolos, the
soft, fuzzy, bean filled machines of mass destruction?"
Servo shook his head. "Nah. It's a 'Dues Ex Machinatron.' You turn it
on and it summons an omnipotent being to come and help you.
Mike stood silent for a moment, and then quietly suggested, "Tom, I
don't think that it's a good idea to play with that."
Crow snorted in laughter. "Please Mike. These things never work. It's
probably a duck ex machina anyway, and we'll end up with a squad of ducks."
"Flock of ducks," Tom corrected.
"I thought that it was a flight of ducks," Mike replied. "anyway, it's
still not a good ide....." Mike's words ended as Crow flipped a switch on the
machine. Suddenly a white vortex of swirling energy appeared floating in the
air above the device, accompanied by a loud cacophony of noise.
"Wow!" Crow shouted above the din. "Those are going to be really
cool ducks if they arrive like that!"
"Crow!" Mike yelled. "Turn it off before...!" A glowing humanoid
nimbus of energy materialized on the SoL's bridge. Mike muttered under his
breath, "I should have just called in sick that day, but no..., 'Go to Deep 13? No
problem.'"
The nimbus spoke with a voice that shook the very walls of the Bridge.
"WHO DARES SUMMON ME? AND TURN OFF THAT DAMNED
MACHINE!"
Mike sheepishly responded. "Um, sorry sir. We didn't mean to disturb
you. The bots were just fooling with this mach..."
"I WAS SUMMONED AS A PRANK?"
"No! I mean they just accidentally flipped a switch and..."
"YOU SUMMONED ME ACCIDENTALLY?"
"No! I mean, um..."
Crow, oblivious to Mike's distress, spoke up. "Hey! Light bulb! Can
you get us out of here?"
"EXCUSE ME?"
"Can. You. Get. Us. Out. Of. Here?"
Tom added. "Yeah. Can you get us out of here?"
"WILL YOU TURN OFF THAT DAMNED MACHINE?" Mike
quickly turned the machine off. The nimbus's glow began to lessen, and then
finally subsided all together as the energy coalesced into the form of a tall, dark
haired human, wearing a familiar looking green lab coat. "That's better. That
blasted thing was giving me a headache. Now, why did you call me? Do you
need to save the universe, or some other such nonsense?"
Crow snorted. "Yeah right."
Tom turned towards Crow with a start. "Hey! I've saved the universe!"
"Oh yeah? When?"
"When I was a disembodied energy form."
"I'm sure that this is very fascinating to you, but.." said the being.
"Your voice seems familiar. Where you ever on Ocoela III?" asked
Tom.
"Ocoela III? With the intelligent slime molds?'
"Yeah! You're the Prince of Deception aren't you?"
"That's Duke of Deceit." He stared at Tom. "I seem to recall an
annoying con entity when I was there last calling himself Mr. Tib..."
Mike interrupted. "We're not out to save the universe. We're just
trying to get off this satellite. See, they keep sending us these bad movies to
watch and..."
The newcomer raised an eyebrow. "Bad movies? Really?" He smiled
evilly. "Yes. That'd work..."
Mike grimaced. "Dear lord. I've created another mad."
The newcomer looked at Mike. "No need to worry, Mr. Nelson. You
and your , ahem, robot friends are going for a little vacation."
"Really?" Crow asked. "Great! I'll get my bags."
"No need, " the newcomer replied. In a flash of white light, the trio
disappeared. The being smiled. "Welcome to your home away from home, Jean-
Luc." Then he too disappeared in a flash of white light.
The bridge was empty and all was silent.
"Hey guys!" Gypsy yelled as she wandered onto the bridge. "There was
a big energy spike a minute ago. Do you know what happened?" She stopped,
and looked around the bridge. "Guys?"
End of part one
Coming in part two:
Jean Luc and friends get to watch a movie!
Mike and the Bots arrive on the Enterprise and meet the big M?
And Chandler and Joey buy a new couch...
Chapter 2- A Clash of Titans!
by Matt Blackwell (mblackwl@ix.netcom.com)
Admiral Picard took a quick look around the bridge. All was still
calm. None of the crew had vanished. Data was still an android. No odd
occurances had happened. No Klingon Women trying to have foreplay with
Worf. No mariachi bands, no Napoleonic animal things, nothing out of the
ordinary at all. Perhaps, just this once, Q had decided to go away without his
usual shenanigans. Well, I best go on with my normal duties, Picard thought.
"Status report, Number One."
"Nothing to report yet, sir. Starfleet's still getting ships into position
and the Dominion's still quiet."
Picard nodded. "How is the crew holding up, Counselor?"
Troi turned to the Captain. "They're a bit anxious sir, but they're
confident in their mission."
"Good. Thank you, Counselor." Picard breathed a sigh of relief.
"Well, shall we get on with our mission?"
A bright flash of light filled the bridge, and Q once again stood on the
bridge. "Sorry that I'm late, mon capitan. I had a lunch date with one of the
Metrons and he just wouldn't stop talking. I think that I might have found the
one being in the universe who is more loquacious than you are."
Riker jumped to his feet. "Q!"
Q rolled his eyes. "Your powers of observation are astounding." Q
turned to Picard. "Well, where were we mon capitan? Oh yes. The Satellite."
The omnipotent entity smiled, raised his hand and snapped his fingers. With a
flash of light, the six members of the bridge crew, and Q vanished. All on the
bridge was quiet.
The turbolift doors slid open, and Dr. Beverly Picard entered the
bridge. "Jean-Luc, are we still on for...?" Her question trailed off as she noticed
the lack of people on the bridge. "Computer? Give me the location of Jean-Luc
Picard."
"Jean-Luc Picard is not on the ship," responded the computer.
"Damn," said the Doctor. She tapped her communicator badge. "All
senior crew, please report to the bridge."
Meanwhile, in the Enterprise's Captain's Quarters:
Mike Nelson sighed. One moment, he was standing on the Bridge of
the SoL, and the next, he was here. Wherever here was. It looked like an office
at the Hilton, except for the stars streaking by that he could see in the window.
Wherever he was, it wasn't the Satellite. Crow and Tom seemed utterly
unphased by the change in location, though.
Tom shouted from behind the desk, "Ms. Worlitzer, take a memo. To
the president of Federated Amalgamated Industries Limited. Dear sir,
regarding your recent proposal to take over ConHugeCo, bite me."
Mike spoke up, "Tom get away from that desk. We don't want to
annoy whomever's office this is."
"Hey Mike!" said Crow from across this room. "Look at this voice
controlled ice maker! Ice!" Crow shouted. Then ice materialized in the area
below. "Neat, huh? Maybe it's connected to a voice-activated fridge.
Hamdingers!"
"Crow, stop playing with that," Mike said while trying to drag Crow
away from the device. In the meantime, hamdingers had appeared in the slot
below.
"See?" Crow cried. "I told you. See if they've got any RAM Chips in
there."
"Hey Mike!" said Tom. "I don't think that's a fridge. That must be a
replicator! See if you can replicate a flamethrower."
"I am not going to replicate a flamethrower," Mike angrily responded
as a flamethrower appeared in the slot.
"Cool. It's mine!" Crow declared.
"Is not!" replied Tom.
"Hmm," murmured Mike, ignoring the battle between the bots. "I
could use some new clothes, instead of this jumpsuit." He spoke up. "Computer,
I could use a new outfit." Moments later, a Starfleet uniform appeared in the
replicator. "Thanks," said Mike as picked up the uniform. "I'll be right back,
guys. Don't, well , do anything, really."
"Whatever, " Crow responded as Mike wandered into the nearby
bathroom.
"Hey Crow," Tom still sitting at the desk. "Take a look a this."
"What is it?" Crow responded, while wandering over.
"Well, I've managed to hack into the guy who owns this office's
computer system. <Snort> They've got pathetic computer security here. Now
the Fortilians, they had nasty computer security. Why it took me almost three
days to wreck their computer system..."
"And?" Crow interrupted.
"Well, this guy seems to be in their military, and I seem to have
hacked into their personnel records. Say, it's near Mike's birthday. Let's give
Mike a rank for a present."
"Sure. That way we won't have to give him a real gift. Let's make him
a Captain."
"Okay." <Beep> went the computer. "They want to know what ship
that he commands."
Crow thought for a moment. "The USS Waits."
"Heh. Okay. Done. Hey! They've got Zoop on this machine!"
"Zoop!"
"Zoop!"
At that moment, Mike wandered out of the bathroom wearing his new
uniform. "Hmm. Nice fit," he proclaimed. "So, what do you think, guys?"
Tom looked up from the zooping computer screen. "It stinks."
Mike began to respond, but a that moment, the door to the Captain's
office flew open and Dr. Picard wandered in. She took a quick look at the
occupants of the office and angrily asked, "Who the devil are you, and why are
you in my husband's office?"
The Satellite of Love:
"Q, where are we?" Picard demanded.
Q, now wearing a lime green colored lab coat, replied. "You're on the
Satellite of Love, where you will soon be subjected to horrors the like of which
you've never seen before. The horror of bad movies. You, Worf and Data will
soon be subjected to the worst pieces of literature that you've ever seen. And..."
Q looked around the room. "Hmm. I seem to have taken too many people. Oh
well. Riker. I'll send you, Troi, and that other guy..."
"Hawk, sir."
"Whatever. Down to the planet, where you get to subject your fellow
officers to these works. Enjoy."
"Q!" Jean-Luc started to protest, but the lights behind him began to
flash, and an invisible force moved Picard, Worf and Data into the theater.
Once inside the theater, Worf, Data, and Picard stumbled into their
seats.
"Admiral?" Worf asked. "Did I understand Q correctly? We're to be
subjected to bad movies?"
"I believe that your impression is accurate, Mr. Worf."
"Admiral," Data declared. "I believe that something is happening."
The screen before the trio came to life, and words appeared.
> '95 STATEMENT BY AN E.T. PRESENTLY INCARNATE
> 1. In the early 1970's, two individuals (my task partner and myself)
>from the Evolutionary Level Above Human (the Kingdom of Heaven)
Data spoke. "I was not aware that there were evolutionary levels above
humanity on Earth, Captain. Although, I suppose that they might be refferring
to the Organians, or the Talosians, or the Metrons, or perhaps even a member
of the Q Continum. What do you think, sir?"
Picard shook his head. "I don't know what they're referring to, Data."
>incarnated into (moved into and took over) two human bodies that were in
>their forties.
"Hmm." Worf rumbled. "I was not aware of any possessions in Terran
history. Perhaps this is a text on mythology."
> I moved into a male body, and my partner, who is an Older Member in the
>Level Above Human, took a female body.
>(We called these bodies "vehicles," for they simply served as physical
>vehicular tools for us to wear while on a task among humans.
>They had been tagged and set aside for our use since their birth.)
"Admiral, perhaps this explains many of the missing time phenomena
experienced by ancient Terrans who claimed to have been abducted by UFOs.
Perhaps, they were being used as vehicles by these aliens, and..."
"Stop," came Q's voice into the theater. He materialized next to the
trio as the projections onto the screen ceased. "You seem to be missing the
point of this. These people are not to be taken seriously. They, oh never mind.
We'll just reshoot this scene." Q stood up and shouted, "Take 2 people!"
Picard queried, " What do you mean, 'take 2?' Q, what are you...?"
"Quiet, Jean-Luc. I'm going to show you how you should have
responded to this. Afterwards, you'll remember what happened, but until it's
over, you'll react as if you just got here, okay?" Q didn't wait for a response.
"All right, ...Action!"
End of Chapter 2
In Chapter 3....
Picard, Worf and Data riff a post! Or not...
And the Duke Boys get into trouble again.
Chapter 3- A Clash of Titans!
By Chris Cornell
(Picard, Data, then Worf stumble, woozily, onto the bridge. Worf has a phaser
in hand, Data is checking his tricorder.)
Picard: Mr. Data, what happened?
Data (reading tricorder): Q seems to have deposited us in some sort of alternate
universe, Captain. The positioning readings I'm getting make no sense.
Worf: And what happened to us before we got here? It felt as if volumes of
useless information was being crammed into my head.
Picard: Yes, I felt it too--it was as if my mind were being filled with arcane
little bits of knowledge.
Data: I have been examining the new data deposited in my positronic net
during the transference, and most of it appears to be popular culture
information from Earth in the second half of the 20th century.
Worf: What could we possibly need information from that time period placed
into our brains?
Picard: Let's try to find out, Commander. Mr. Data, are you getting any life
form readings?
Data: I am reading no intelligent organic life forms aboard the vessel, Captain.
(Looking at desk) The ship's computer is functional, however. Perhaps I can
interface with it.
Picard: Make it so, Commander. We have to find a way off this ship!
(Data plugs his finger into a hole in the desk and begins to jerk his head oddly
as he interfaces. Meanwhile, Worf looks toward the camera in surprise.)
Worf: (pointing towards us): Captain! Look! A robot. Watching us!
Data (in a distant voice): Yes, Commander. The computer says the robot is
called...Cambot. It's function is to record activities on the ship.
Worf: Is it dangerous?
Data (listening): Negative, Commander. The computer says this ship is called
"The Satellite of Love."
Worf: (disgusted): Love?
Picard: Strange...
Data (continuing): ...and seems to refer to itself as "Magic Voice."
Worf: What? (mocking) "Magic Voice"? Ridiculous.
Data (still reading the tricorder): According to the computer, the ship was
occupied by several robots and a lone human from Earth's 20th century.
Picard: A Terran trapped aboard a satellite for hundreds of years, Data? That's
nonsense. How would he eat? How would he breathe?
Data: Well, sir, the computer has a suggestion regarding that, it suggests that
you should really just...just a moment...just a moment...I am detecting some
sort of electronic build-up within the Bridge.
Picard: Build-up?
Data: Yes...any moment it will be-
[movie sign lights and klaxons go off]
Picard: Data! What is it?
Data: It's something called....[shouting] WEB PAGE SIGN!!!!!!!
Worf: What the-
Data (unplugging himself from the computer): Quickly! Follow me! Data
rushes off and the others follow...
6.....5.......4.......3.......2.......1........
[Data, then Picard, then Worf enter the theater. Worf looks back towards us.]
Picard: Mr. Data, something tells me you should activate your emotion chip for
this.
Data: Very well, sir. (click)
Worf: There is that camera robot again. It has followed us!
Picard: Never mind, Mr. Worf. I believe we are meant to sit down and attend to
this presentation.
Data (as he sits): That is correct, Captain. From what I can ascertain from the
Magic Voice, it is your reaction to the presentation that is desired.
Picard (sitting): Desired? Desired by whom?
Data: Magic Voice would only say "Them."
Worf (still standing): Them?
Picard: Sit down, Mr. Worf. Perhaps the presentation will tell us.
> '95 STATEMENT BY AN E.T. PRESENTLY INCARNATE
> 1. In the early 1970's, two individuals (my task partner and myself)
>from the Evolutionary Level Above Human (the Kingdom of Heaven)
Worf: I beg your pardon. The next level above human is klingon.
>incarnated into (moved into and took over) two human bodies that were in their forties.
Picard: ...and immediately had a mid-life crisis.
Worf (chuckling): Very good, sir!
Data (laughing): Humor, sir! That's it! Of course! Clearly that's the only way to
survive this.
Picard: I think you're right, Commander. And that may explain all the useless
bits of information we've received! Let's try to use it to humorous effect.
Data: I shall try, sir.
>I moved into a male body,
Data: Ouch!
>and my partner, who is an Older Member in the Level Above Human, took a
>female body.
Worf: By biting her in the back of the neck, and...
Picard: Now, now, Mr. Worf.
>(We called these bodies "vehicles," for they simply served as physical vehicular
>tools for us to wear while on a task among humans.
Picard: Although the whole Bondo experiment was a big failure...
>(They had been tagged and set aside for our use since their birth.)
Data: For the first 40 years, the bodies apparently just sort of stumbled around,
walking into trees, things like that...
> 2. We brought to Earth with us a crew of students whom we had worked
>with (nurtured) on Earth in previous missions.
Picard: Good God, it sounds like the Kid's Crew!
(Data and Worf react in horror.)
>They were in varying stages of metamorphic transition from membership in
>the human kingdom to membership in the physical Evolutionary Level Above
>Human
Data: (breaking voice): Oh, that awkward age...
>(what your history refers to as the Kingdom of God or Kingdom of Heaven).
Worf (as Kirk): You're no god to me, Mister! (Worf again) I have no idea why I
said that.
> 3. It seems that we arrived in Earth's atmosphere between Earth's 1940's and
>early 1990's.
Picard: That narrows it down...
>We suspect that many of us arrived in staged spacecraft (UFO) crashes
Data (as kid): Hey kids! Let's put on a UFO crash! We can use my dad's barn!
>and many of our discarded bodies (genderless, not belonging to the human species),
>were retrieved by human authorities (government and military).
Worf: And elected to Congress.
Picard: Thank you, Mark Russell.
> 4. Other crews from the Level Above Human preceded our arrival
>and "tagged" - placed a deposit "chip" - in each of the vehicles (bodies) that
>we would individually incarnate into, when that instruction would be given.
>These "chips" set aside those bodies for us.
Picard: When they return the bodies, do they get their deposit back?
> 5. We feel that while we were "out of body" between arrival and
>incarnation, we were thoroughly briefed and
Data: ...pantsed and wedgied and dragged around the track.
>were taken through an extensive preview of places and events that would
>assist our individual incarnation process of bringing our mind - our consciousness -
>into the vehicle (body) and overriding the mind of the human "plant" (or container)
>that each of us was to use.
Worf: And be sure to use Miracle Grow on your human plant.
>This incarnation process is very difficult and cannot be done without the help of
>Older Members of the Evolutionary Level Above Human who have not only gone
>through the metamorphic transition to completion themselves, but who have also
Picard: ...created a gut-wrenching NEA-funded performance piece about it.
>assisted others through this transition before (acting as "midwives" for some in the
>shedding of their human-creature characteristics while preparing to be born as new
>creatures into the Next Evolutionary Kingdom).
Worf: Sir, my instruments indicate a metaphor overload building up!
> 6. The true Kingdom of God - the real physical Kingdom of Heaven - the
>Evolutionary Level Above Human - are completely synonymous.
Data: ...with the word "panties."
>As a genderless Kingdom, it "reproduces" or adds to its Kingdom membership
>through the use of this metamorphic process.
Worf: What? No biting?!
Picard: Thank you, Marv Albert.
>This Next Level Kingdom created all that is - including all the paths that lead to decay
>and destruction,
Data: So it created Urkel?
>for the creatures it creates are created with free will - an ever-present option to
>choose the direction to take at any juncture or moment of decision.
Picard: But usually they don't bother.
> 7. The metamorphic "birth" into the Level Above Human occurs as follows:
Worf: First, you cry...
>In any given civilization on a fertile planet such as Earth (and Earth has had many
>periodic/cyclical civilizations),
Data: Thank goodness for Light Days with wings!
>the Level Above Human plants all the new life forms (including humans) for that
>civilization in a neutral condition so that they have a chance to choose the direction
>of their growth.
Picard: Usually we just tie them to stakes for a few months.
>The Level Above Human - or Next Level - directly (hands on) relates significantly to
>the civilization at its beginning stage, and subsequently (with few exceptions) at
>approximately 2000-year intervals (48-hour intervals from a Next Level perspective)
>until that civilization's final "Age."
Worf: Well, that certainly...uh...how's that again?
> 8. Each time the Next Level relates directly to any portion of that civilization,
>"deposits" containing "souls" (the "seed" or "chip" with a program of metamorphic
>possibilities) are placed in many human plants.
Picard: Ewww!
>This deposit is potentially the "gift of life" into the physical and real Evolutionary
>Level Above Human. These deposits are given or made only when members of
>the Level Above Human are
Data: ...really, really lonely.
>assigned to directly relate to (be incarnate in) the civilization. Only these Representatives
>can "nurture" those deposited souls with Next Level thinking, behavior, and all the
>information required to effectively "fluff off" all human/mammalian characteristics of the
>old creature.
Worf: Sir, I refuse to be "fluffed out."
>(A potential creature of the Next Level cannot cling to human ways any more than a
>butterfly can cling to caterpillar ways.) So, when a Representative from that Kingdom is
>present - that "Rep's" nurturing (teaching) is a "window" for exiting the human kingdom
>for all who have been given deposits/souls. These deposits are made only in vehicles
>(bodies) that are "old enough" - having grown or matured enough - for self-determination
>or responsibility.
Picard: But, since we've taken over their bodies, that doesn't matter.
> 9. Humans with deposits containing souls can likely be identified at this time
>as some of those who are rapidly losing respect for this world or its "system."
Data: Condoms, man! It's repression, man!
>They are, from the establishment's point of view, being irresponsible or anti-social -
>and will be seen by the world as duped, crazy, a cult member, a drifter, a loner, a drop-out,
Worf: ...a Woozle...
>a separatist, etc.
> 10. Not only is the body, in a sense, the temporary container for the soul, but
Picard: ...it's a floorwax!
>even more importantly - the soul is the housing or container of the new creature. The soul
>has its own "brain" or "hard drive"
ALL: [snicker]
>that accumulates only information of the Next Level - mundane as well as theoretical
>or philosophical.
Data: Baseball statistics, dry cleaning bills....
>The soul also becomes part of the new physical body of the new creature, though it is
>seldom seen by human eyes. Therefore, when a soul is a part of a new deposit, it has
>very little information and is as a very small Next Level "fetus." As it develops or grows
>in size, it necessitates the abortion of the human mind, which is in a container beside it.
Picard: But there's certainly nothing controversial about what we're doing...
>If you think of a glass vase that has two balloons in it, one balloon is the human mind,
>the other is the Next Level mind. When the Next Level makes a "soul deposit,"
Worf: You have to change the sheets...
>it is like placing the second balloon in the glass vase. So, when metamorphosis begins,
>the human mind (balloon) is all but filling the container, and the Next Level mind or soul
>is all but empty. As the Next Level mind increases - and the soul begins to grow larger -
>the human-mind container or balloon decreases until, if the Next Level mind successfully
>makes it to "term," the human deflated balloon
Data: had helium in it, allowing us to do a silly voice!
>is discarded and the Next Level balloon (with Next Level mind) is all that fills the
>container, or glass vase.
Worf: But would a pessimist say vase was half empty?.
>That soul with its Next Level mind has by then become a physical body in a new species
>(the Level Above Human), needing only a new physical outer shell, which it receives as a
>"quartermaster issue" upon physically entering the Next Level.
Picard (as Slim Pickins): Along with one .45 caliber handgun, one issue
prophylactic...
>The final act of metamorphosis or separation from the human kingdom is the "disconnect"
>or separation from the human physical container or body in order to be released from the
>human environment and enter the "next" world or physical environment of the Next Level.
Data: Get your Nike's on, kids! We're at the next level!
>This will be done under the supervision of Members of the Next Level in a clinical
>procedure. We will rendezvous in the "clouds" (a giant mothership) for our briefing
>and journey to the Kingdom of the Literal Heavens.
Worf: Figuratively speaking, of course...
> 11. Metamorphosis is not ordinarily accomplishable during only one period of
>visitation from the Level Above Human. Therefore, the deposit task at each visitation
>includes deposits with "programs" for returnees who are still in "forward motion."
Picard: ...resulting in a 15-yard penalty and a loss of down.
> 12. At the end of the Age or civilization (where we are now), it seems that all
>souls that were deposited in any part of the present civilization are brought back.
Data: ...for a big reunion special: "A Very Heaven's Gate Christmas"!
>Between visitations, "faithful" souls are "put on ice," so to speak - in the keeping of the
>Level Above Human, to be re-deposited and again incarnated during the next visitation.
Worf: ...at no additional cost to you. But wait, there's more!
>So, at this time we have both "faithful" souls who might be in the third "trimester" of their
>metamorphosis preparing for the final test before "emerging" in their new physical body
>belonging to the Next Level, and we also have all those souls who have "fallen away"
>during this civilization's visitations. Even they now have a chance at reinstatement.
Picard: But they'll have to take a make-up test.
> 13. The requirement is the same for all who might expect to find themselves
>in the safekeeping of the Level Above Human - each must proceed in the forsaking
>of all human ways, ties, addictions, thinking, gender behavior (sexuality),
Data: Sounds great! (Picard and Worf look at him, annoyed)
>and be in the forward motion of becoming this new creature (literally and physically
>belonging to the Kingdom Level Above Human). (Some in the class have chosen on
>their own to have their vehicles neutered in order to sustain a more genderless and
>objective consciousness.)
Worf: Well, you weren't using it anyway...
>The overcoming process can only be accomplished in the care, keeping, and tutorship
>of the present (incarnate) Representative(s) of that Next Kingdom.
Picard (as Marvin the Robot): Sounds awful.
> 14. Humans in any given time seem to fall in one of three categories:
>i) Humans without deposits - those who are simply "plants" (a part of the various
>levels of human "plant" life)
Data: Oh, like Adam Sandler!
>containing the mind or program of their genetic information combined with their brain's
>interpretation of the information of their current body's experiences,
>
>ii) those with deposits/souls who are receiving nourishment from the present Rep(s)
>toward metamorphic completion, and
Worf: Five...
>iii) those with deposits/souls who are not in a classroom nor in a direct relationship
>with the Representative(s) from the Level Beyond Human,
Picard: That Master's thesis can be a lot of work...
>having: a) not been confronted with the information and the Rep(s), or b) been confronted
>but have chosen not to "pursue."
Worf: Also known as: people with an ounce of common sense.
> 15. Now that we are here again, how an individual responds to us and our
>information will, in fact, judge that individual as to whether he or she will or will not
>have a further relationship with the Next Level.
Data: That was very succinct, but do you think you could needlessly restate it?
>In other words, coming in contact with this information will force a decision for all
>with souls, and the stand they individually take will judge or determine their future.
Data: Thank you.
>Remember, even those who have fallen away are being given an opportunity at this
>time to be reconciled or reinstated.
Picard: But only on Tuesdays and Thursdays, if you have a brother who is
writing a letter home, then you take his coat and move it to the lower peg....
> 16. Those with souls -
Worf: Which leaves out Adam Duritz...
>who fall away - become a part of the opposition to the Next Level.
Data: The Spice Girls!
>Once, in a prior civilization, records suggest that a third of the class fell and the strongest,
>and thereby leader of those fallen, was called "Lucifer" (or Satan).
Picard: Currently known as the one called "Gallagher."
>Even today they occupy the near heavens as what humans refer to as "space aliens."
Worf: That's us! Hi, mom!
>They also burrow in bases underground and participate in genetic manipulation
>and hybridization with humans,
ALL: Sayyyyyy!!
Worf: Why didn't we end up THERE?
>and attempt to recruit (while remaining among the
>"unseen") those humans with souls who are unstable or weak in their pursuit of the
>true Kingdom of Heaven. These "Luciferians" (for the most part from the "unseen"
>world) started all religions and masquerade as "gods" to humans.
Data: They also invented Hawaiian pizza.
>They offer to humans (who are unknowingly praying to them) whatever material gains
>they desire.
Worf: They do? Where do I sign?
>These "Luciferians" and their devotees preach "Heaven on Earth," "Peace among men,"
>and a long and healthy life in the human condition,
Picard: Those vicious bastards!
>and are determined to take the steps to make the inhabitants of the planet subservient
>to their "ideal" mammalian ethic - destructive to the natural evolutionary processes, and
>abhorrent to the Kingdom Level Above Human.
Data: But something tells me they throw better parties.
>These "fallen angels" unknowingly also SERVE the Next Level - for as the aspirants
>to the Level Above Human apply the necessary effort to rise above "this world" - they
>gain the strength to enter the "Next World."
Worf: Evil! It does a belief system good! Brought to you by the Evil Council.
> 17. Where the space aliens have a major stronghold in playing "God" is through
>those humans with the most power. The power is the strongest among the very rich and
>the very righteous (their self-styled religion) who accept that it is their ("God-given")
>responsibility to maintain the world's stability - judged, of course, by whatever actions
>are necessary to maintain and increase that power.
Picard: ...such as Windows 95.
>These powerful individuals have a loose-knit world-wide "club" that for the most part
>dictates who their primary "monopoly" players are - those leaders in the "significant"
>or strong societies or cultures. Government leaders, the very rich, and the world's righteous
>or "moral" leaders, need each other to accomplish their desired ends.
Data: Elitist twerps!
>They together really determine what is "right" and "wrong" for the populace as a whole,
>for they trust their overview (and needless to say, it is motivated, for it makes the rich richer,
>the political more powerful, while offering sufficient "moral consciousness" to nurture a
>guiltless society).
Worf: Yes, politicians are famous for offering moral consciousness...
>This "morality call" translates down to every level of society's structure, i.e., its laws,
>its permissiveness, and its
Data: ...tap pants...
>intolerance. The governments' law enforcers see to it that nothing is permitted to significantly
>threaten the rules of the "big bedfellows" morality
Picard: Thanks! I didn't think you could tell from there!
> - which is no morality at all, but the long list of do's and don'ts which protect the money flow,
>secure the power players, and sustain the acceptable morality code. Any little group that isn't
>naively, totally submissive to their social rules, or begins to see through this
>"control mechanism," or questions its rightness, is seen as subversive, radical, anti-social, a
>cult, or even treasonous - or potentially "terrorists."
Worf: So do exactly as we say and don't conform!
> 18. It is a fact of record that a number of space alien groups or "races" have
>related to humans as recently as the past few decades for various reasons. These ranged
>from "deals" of mutual benefit - trading spacecraft technology for uninterrupted genetic
>experimentation - to missions of "spiritual enlightenment." All of these activities are far
>beneath Next Level interests or activity
Data: We're mostly looking for somebody to play Quake with.
> and are, in fact, diversionary efforts of the space aliens to have humans look to
>them at a time that our return presence was imminent.
Picard: Keep watching the Nikes!
> 19. The space aliens have very successfully, through their religions, totally
>confused the humans' concept of "God" or "Deity."
Worf: We're the gods!! We're the gods!!!
>(These religions were begun as major distortions immediately following any visitation
>of the Next Level.) The Next Level abhors religions, for they bind humans more thoroughly
>to the human kingdom,
Data: And they siphon off a lot of our potential earnings.
>using strong misinformation mixed with cosmic or universal consciousness of Creation,
>about which, in truth, they know nothing. Some of their Christians say that God was incarnate
>as Jesus - though He knew that His Father was clearly a separate entity, even when His
>Father's mind was in Him. Luciferians now answer the Christians' (as well as all other
>religions') prayers or requests
Worf: Hello. You've reached Hell. Your prayer or request is very important to
us, but all our Luciferians are busy at the moment...
>as they promote enriching their human lives and having them seek a "Heaven on Earth"
>and a type of Second Coming that would clearly be abominable to the Next Level.
Picard (making weighing motion): Hmmm...heaven....the Next
Level....heaven...The Next Level...what a choice!
>Only the Luciferians could have Christians believing that Jesus promoted family values,
>becoming better humans, establishing professional religious institutions, and looking for
>the Second Coming of some flowing-robed, peace-and-love manifestation of their artists'
>conceptions.
Worf: Is THAT what Rothko was painting??
>Most religious think of a Kingdom of God, though it doesn't register to them that that
>Kingdom has many members.
Data (as Butthead): He said "member" Huh-huh.
Worf (as Beavis): Heh-heh.
>They feel that if you acknowledge "many members" in the Kingdom of God, then you would
>be acknowledging a pantheism.
Picard: Pantsism?
>Any time any member of the Next Level is assigned a task to relate to humans directly,
>since he is of the Kingdom of God, he is rightfully "God" to them,
Worf: You're no god to ME, mist--hey, I did that one!
>for he is the member of the Evolutionary Level Above Human ("Kingdom of God") who is
>relating to them. This is not to say that there is not in the Next Level a "Chief of Chiefs" or
>one who is Supreme.
Data: Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Diana Ross!
>Luciferians have had humans spiritualize and elevate that spiritual feeling for the word
Worf: ..."moist"...
>"God" so that no member of the Next Level would want to identify as one of those members
>of the Kingdom of God. The irony is
Picard: ...non-existent.
>that humans pray to the masquerading "gods" - space aliens - who have many "superior"
>beings in their different races and subraces.
Data: Submarine races! I LOVE to watch those! Heh-heh.
>So, humans are unknowingly praying to different "gods" of many "gods." Of course, none
>of these are, in fact, "Gods" - other than self-appointed. (They are simply humanoid remnants
>from previous civilizations that are allowed to exist as a part of the balance of positive and
>negative presences, and allowing a full range of free-will options.)
Worf: and passing the savings on to you!
>The Next Level is not into rituals,
Data (hipster): We're into beer bongs, man...
Worf: Woo!
>or spiritual inflation of stature, though it's true that younger members learn to be respectful
>and acknowledge the wisdom and serviceability of Older Members in the Next Level.
Picard: These geezers are quite serviceable. Have them scrubbed and brought to
my tent.
>Where one can fall from progressing in the Next Level is to slip into believing that he can
>grow on his own.
Worf: Though doctors are having wonderful success with implants...
>The only way an individual can grow in the Next Level is to learn to be dependent on his
>Older Member as that source of unlimited growth and knowledge.
Data: So remember. Be an individual by depending on us.
>So, any younger member in good standing, forever remains totally dependent upon
>(and looks to) his Older Member for all things.
Picard: Including spankings.
> 20. Since this is the close of the Age, the battle in the Heavens with their servants
>on Earth will be the means of that closing and the spading under of the plants
Worf: And if you've ever been spaded under, you know how painful THAT can
be...
>(including the humans) of this civilization. "Weeds" are now getting rid of weeds -
>from gang wars to nations involved in ethnic cleansing.
Data: Wow! They MUST be right! They only just invented gang wars and
ethnic cleansing, right?
>This is simply a part of the natural recycling process which precedes a restoration period
>of the planet in preparation for another civilization's beginning.
Worf: So don't worry your little head about any dumb ol' genocide.
> 21. If you connect with this information - if you attempt to connect with us in your
>desire to leave your humanness behind and link with the Evolutionary Level Above Human
Picard: You may already be a winner.
>- you may encounter what seems to be insurmountable tests. You can imagine the "fallout"
>of your separation.
Data: But on the plus side, MSNBC will have a really hot story to report.
>You may even be faced with the possibility of losing the body you are "wearing" in the
>demonstration of your faithfulness. We can take you through all of these trials - they are
>designed to offer you strength and resolve.
Worf: It's morning at Heaven's Gate-and it's a good day to die.
> 22. If you expect to go with us in our spacecrafts headed for our "world" and the
>only true Kingdom Level Above Human, you will likely have to physically engage in
>preparedness and readiness for that departure.
Picard: Begin by taking your clothes off...
>That readiness should not be interfered with by the servants of this world.
> I find it all but impossible to present these truths to you in a way that might stand a
>chance to survive the avalanche of thoughts from the opposition that would do anything
>in their power to prevent your separation from their world and your physical life in it.
Data: Okay, so let me get this straight: the evil powers DON'T want us to die,
but YOU do.
>I hope that my Older Member's mercy will give you strength. If you care to speak to me
>in your thoughts, I answer to "Do" (pronounced Doe).
Worf: Also pronounced: 'D'OH!"
>The name itself means nothing, but I connect with it for it was agreed upon for my usage by
Picard: our true leader, Taylor Hanson.
>my Older Member "Ti" (pronounced Tee).
Picard (as Mel Blanc): See?
Worf (same): Sigh?
Data (same): Soo.
>Ti stayed with me, setting an example and preparing me for this present responsibility
>until 1985, and then separated from her borrowed human container and returned to the
>Next Level.
Data: And I'm STILL paying her Visa bill.
>(If we're not mistaken,
Worf: And there's NO chance of that.....
>our entire classroom task here from 1975 until the present has only been about 30 minutes
>by Next Level reckoning.)
Picard: They're still waiting for their luggage, in fact.
>If you have grown to hate your life in this world and would lose it for the sake of the
>Next Level, you will find true life with us - potentially forever.
Data (laughing evilly): Bwahahahaha!
>If you cling to this life - will you not lose it?
Worf: Oh, well, I can see how that would make...HUH?
Picard: Well, that would appear to be the end. Let's go, gentlemen...[the rise
and leave, as they do] be careful of that air vent, Mr. Worf!
1.....2......3.......4........5.......6.......
[Bridge]
Picard: Well, gentlemen, I put it to you that what we just saw was a complete
waste of time...and yet...
Data: Agreed, Captain. Somehow I found it pleasurable.
Worf: Indeed. Mocking the insipidness somehow made it more
bearable...almost amusing.
Picard: For some reason, I have the urge to read a letter...
Data: I suggest we focus our attention on returning to our own dimension, sir.
Picard: Quite right, Mr. Data. Suggestions?
Data (reading his tricorder): Perhaps if we explore the rest of the ship. (Sees
something in his tricorder.) Sir! My tricorder is registering a huge underwear
collection on deck three!
Picard: Oooh! Interesting!! Lead the way, Mr. Data. (they exit)
>The soul has its own "brain" or "hard drive"
End of Chapter 3
In our next chapter...
Can Mike explain keep from getting shot by Dr. Picard?
Can the Federation boys survive another trip into the theater?
Can the Fonz get Richie out of trouble resulting from Potsi and Ralph's latest
scheme?
Find out soon...
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 4 - The Marissa Factor
Gypsy began to scream at Picard and Data. "Who are you? What are you
doing here? What happened to Mike?"
Picard looked at the purple box. "Mr Data?"
"Sir, this is a primitive replication unit known as Gypsy. She is in
charge of ship's maintenance, and is considered somewhat harmless."
Gypsy quickly placed Picard's head in her mouth. "I'll show you
harmless. Now, what happened to Mike?"
Worf strode into the main room quickly. "Sir, I've completed my search
of the area and.... Did you know your head is in the mouth of a robot?"
"Oh, yes," Q said as he reappeared. "There's nothing like a Klingon if
you need to state the obvious. Well, Admiral Picard, here we are again. You
know, I don't think I'll ever get used to you not being a Captain."
Gypsy let go, allowing Picard to glare at the entity. "All right, Q!"
Picard shouted. "What's going on?"
"What's going on?" Gypsy asked. "Where did my friends go?"
"All in due time," Q responded. "It's a little complicated, so I'll
try to speak in words you can understand. It's probably a lost cause for Worf, but
I'll try anyway.
"You see, Mon Admiral. I have placed three people from this station,
and the three people from the Planet below, on your ship. Then I took the three of
you and placed you onto this space station. Think of it as a vacation. Relax.
Enjoy yourself. Look, Larry, Darryl and Darryl are calling."
Picard looked to the main viewscreen. "Riker?"
"Sir. I don't suppose that you know what's going on?"
"Q was just coming to that. Who else is on the planet?"
"Just me, Troi, and Ensign Hawke. This is kind of an interesting
planet. It looks like some sort of campground. However, we found an abandoned
space ship made from an old van. It's stocked with a lot of equipment, like
this communicator we're using now. I don't suppose...."
"Riker," Hawke said. "Some sort of alien is coming right toward us."
The Starfleet Officers watched as a humanoid in a Hawaiian shirt walked
over. "Greetings, alien-like dudes. I am Calypto, from the planet Stoned. I
have come here to decry the human tendency toward war, and to make you more
peaceful and fun loving. Care for a flower?"
Riker paused, unsure how to handle this new life form. "Uh, no
thanks." Riker watched Calypto shrug and start eating the flower. "Troi," he
whispered. "Can you sense anything from him?"
"I can sense that he cares about us, and wants us to be peaceful and
happy. And that he will try to help us achieve that goal even if it means
killing us in the process."
Calypso looked at them. "I can hear you gossiping about me. My wacky
weed increases many of my abilities. Want some?"
Riker walked to him. "No, I don't want anything. I just want to get
off this planet. Now leave!"
"Woah, what a gloomy Gus. I'm going to have to sic my giant killer
robot on you. Oh, giant killer robot?" The Starfleet Officers watched in
horror as a seven foot robot, looking like a bodybuilder covered in cardboard boxes,
waddled toward them. "Giant killer robot. Please attack these guys in the
method that humans typically find the most painful. Ellu, hotzi, hotzianu."
The giant robot quickly started singing and dancing the Macarena. The
Starfleet officers quickly screamed and started to run away, with the Robot
following them. "Gnarly, dudes," the humanoid shouted. Then he turned to the
screen. "Peace."
Picard watched in horror as the alien shut off the communications. "Q,
how dare you place my crew in danger like this!"
"Oh, is the little Picard worried about his crew," Q patronized. "If I
were you, Picard, I would worry about myself. You see, while they're facing
the typical doom and gloom, you will be watching movies. I suggest you start being
very afraid."
"Being afraid of watching movies is against Klingon Honor," Worf
bellowed. "Besides, we've already been through a small segment, and it didn't
affect us at all."
Q shook his head. "You weak minded fool! That was just a warm up. On
a scale of pain, that would barely register. No, you're next item will be
much, MUCH worse."
Data shook his head. "I fail to comprehend how watching a movie would
be such a bad experience."
"Oh, trust me," Gypsy said with a quiver in her voice. "It can be
bad."
Q smiled. "Your experiment this week is the Russian-Finnish
masterpiece _Jack Frost_. It is a movie based on every fairy tale ever made. Good luck,
Picard. And may whatever God you believe in have mercy on your soul."
Picard watched as Q vanished. "Boy, once he gets a good line he never
lets go.... Whoa. WE'VE GOT MOVIE SSSSSIIIIGGGGNNNNN!!!!!"
Meanwhile, back at the starship....
Mike stared at the middle-aged woman who stormed into the room.
"Who, me? Well, I.... Uh...."
Crow looked up. "See, Tom. I told you we'd get in trouble if we
came in this room unannounced."
"What do you mean you told me," Tom replied. "Hey, you were...."
The woman walked over to Mike. "My name is Dr. Picard of the USS
Enterprise. Now, who are you? Where's my husband? Where's the entire
Senior Staff?"
"Well, I...." Quickly, Mike glanced over to the computer on the
desk. "My name is Captain Mike Nelson of the USS Waits. My crew and I
are here to replace your captain and crew for this mission. Uh, you know.
The usual transfer. Kind of like when you and your husband snuck off the
ship to invade a Cardassian base that supposedly had some biogenic weapon
but it turned out to be a trap...."
"Fanboy! Fanboy!" the bots chanted in unision.
Dr. Picard frowned. "And this is the entire placement crew?"
"Well, uh...." Mike stopped as three more figures walked into the
room. "Actually, here comes the rest of the crew now. Guys, this is Dr.
Picard of the USS Enterprise."
Pearl Forrester looked at the other lady as if she were some sort
of bug. "Uh, huh. Real interesting. All right, Mike. I want to know
what is going on, and I want to know right now."
"Oh, cool," Bobo shouted. "They have one of those replicator
thingies. They were invented by monkies, you know."
"No, no," the Observer shouted. "The replicator was a Russian
invention. Didn't you ever watch the Original Series?"
"All right, Mike!" Pearl shouted. "Are you gonna talk, or am I
gonna have to get nasty."
Dr. Picard looked shocked. "How can you talk that way to your
commanding officer?"
"I'll talk any way I want to.... commanding officer? What
commanding officer?"
Mike walked closer to Pearl. "Ah, Mrs Forrester, I see you have
forgotten our little arraingement. As I was just telling the good doctor,
I am the Captain of the USS Waits, and you are under my command."
"Yeah," Crow added. "Bow before us, infidel."
"Your training session this week," Tom announced, "is that great
cinematic masterpiece _Incredibly Strange Creatures_, where...."
"ENOUGH!!!!" Picard shouted. "I don't believe a word of any of
this. Now, someone better start talking, and...."
Suddenly, a young lady with auburn hair walked into the room. She
looked like she was just about to gain the right to vote. "Sir, I've
discovered that Picard, Riker, Data, Troi, Worf and Hawke are missing...."
She paused, her eyes glancing over the bots and Pearl.
Mike didn't waste any time. "Uh, excuse me. My name is Mike
Nelson, Captain of the USS Waits. My crew and I are supposed to take the
spots of the ones that left. Part of the mission."
Picard looked at the lady. "Do you know anything about this?"
"Er, uh.... Of course. Didn't you get the e-mail. Oh, I bet I
forgot to send it. Yeah, Starfleet Command put these six on our current
mission, while the ones that left are supposed to be classified as missing.
You know, in case anything goes wrong.
"Anyway, Captain Nelson replaces Picard, and, uhh.... Cmdr Pearl
Forrester replaces Riker. Yeoman Crow replaces Hawke. Lt Tom replaces
Troi. And I seem to have misplaced the files of the other two."
The observer looked around, nervous. "Uh, I am Lt Observer, and
this is Ensign Bobo."
"Hey," Bobo shouted. "You got to be Lt last time."
"Uh, Lt Observer replaces Data, and Ensign Bobo replaces Worf.
See how well everything works out."
Picard was obviously still suspicious. "All right, they can stay.
But I'm keeping an eye on all of you." With that, she left.
Mike watched Dr. Picard leave, and then turned to the young lady.
"Thanks for helping us out there. Uh, who are you? How did you know who
we were?"
"I was right? Oh, this is so cool." The young lady shook Mike's
hand. "Lt Melissa Robinson, Kids Crew Captain of the USS Enterprise."
"JOEL?" the bots shouted in unison.
"He was my grandfather. I used to listen to stories about the
Satellite when I was little. He even had pictures. But I have to admit,
I don't really know who you are, Mr Nelson."
"Well, I'm the guy who replaced Joel after he escaped...."
"That's impossible. Dr Forrester canceled the project after that,
what with the government budget cuts and all."
"Yes, folks. Yet another reason to vote Republican," Tom
announced. "Save our sanity, please."
"Yeah," Crow added. "That way, we can lose our sanity when they
pass their Contract on America."
The Observer shook his head. "Apparently, we've been brought into
another dimension, and my slightly superior brain tells me that an
advanced and highly obnoxious creature brought us here."
"Oh, this is so cool," Bobo shouted. "So, what's our mission?"
"Well," Robinson started as she checked her notes. "Our orders
are to rendesvous with the Stargazer, and then head over to the Tsebaraa
Hegemony. They're a fuedalist government and they left the Federation, so
we have to convince them to come back. Simple diplomatic mission. Of
course, with Picard gone, it'll be a bit harder. But we do have another
Diplomatic expert, on board the Stargazer...."
"Uh - oh," Tom interrupted. "I just realized something."
"What?" Mike asked.
"Well, think about it. In this dimension, the adults are easy
to fool, a really young girl can be a Lieutenant, there's a ship called
the Stargazer, Hawke didn't die...."
"No, it can't be," Crow said. He was visibly shaking. "There's
no way that.... Uh, Melissa. This diplomatic expert wouldn't be named
Picard, would it?"
"Uh, yes. Marissa Picard. I don't know too much about her, but
I'm kind of looking forward to meeting her, actually...."
"Marissa Picard," Tom repeated. He glanced around to see that
everybody except Melissa was visibly afraid. "Marissa Amber Flores
UberMensch Supreme Essexual Princess Picard."
Mike walked to the center of the room and shouted, Kirk style,
"PIIIIIIIIICCCCCCCCCCCCAAAAAAAARRRRRRDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
End of Chapter 4:
How will Nelson and his friends survive Marissa Picard? How will
they bring the Tsebaraa Hegemony back into the fold? How will they
contact their only hope: Turkey Volume Guessing Man? How many licks
DOES it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?
Tune in next chapter. Same batty time. Same batty channel.
Chapter 4.5
"A Pointless Bridge Between Chapters" or "When Titans Clash!"
The Camping World:
Riker looked at Counselor Troi, and then looked at Ensign Hawk, who
was busily rummaging through the Widowmaker. Finally, he spoke. "Well, do
either of you have any idea of what we're supposed to be doing down here?"
Troi shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Q seems to be trying to place us
in predetermined roles, but without informing us what those roles are."
Riker shrugged. He couldn't really argue with that, so he gave a non-
committed "Hmm."
At that time, Hawk wandered over with items in his hands. "Sir, I
found these inside that shuttle. They seem to be jars filled with food. This one
seems to have olives, and this one has what seems to be miniature pickles."
Riker nodded sagely at the news. He had no idea of what to do with
that knowledge, but he nodded nonetheless. "Hmm," he said again. Riker began
to say more, but at that point, a blond female carrying a clipboard materialized
in the midst of the group.
"Okay, listen up people," she said, snapping her gum. "Mr. Q needs
you three on the other set. So, hop to it."
"Excuse me," exclaimed Troi. "Who exactly are you?"
The newcomer glanced up at Troi and replied frostily, "I'm Mr. Q's
assistant. Now come on, move it." And with a flash of white light, the three
Starfleet officers were gone. The female sighed. "Okay, now I just need to get
the rest of the cast. Blasted last-minute rewrites..." she mumbled before
disappearing herself.
The Enterprise-E
"PPPPPIIIIIICCCCCAAAAAARRRRRRDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!" Mike
continued to shout.
"Should we try to stop that?" Crow shouted above the din.
"Nah," Replied Tom. "His lungs will run out of oxygen soon, and then
he'll quiet down."
Melissa tapped a panel on the replicator, and Mike's screams ceased.
Tom and Crow turned towards the young girl. She shrugged. "A cone of
silence. Admiral Picard used to use them during his meetings with certain
adpoted daughters of his." She grinned. "Riker used to use them during
meetings with Picard."
"Hey," asked Crow. "Can we get one of those too? Mike tends to start
babbling about things."
Tom cut off Melissa's reply. "So, you're Joel's granddaughter? How'd
he survive 400 years?"
"I'm not really sure," Melissa responded. "Grandpa Joel's kind of quiet
about the whole thing. I think it involved another top secret project involving
time travel and some dorky guys in turtlenecks." She gave a quick nod towards
Mike. "I think that your friend's done shouting." Sure enough, Mike was
standing bent over, hand on his knees, gasping for air. Melissa reached over
and turned off the cone of silence. Mike's weak cries of "Picard!" could still be
heard in between his gasps for air, but he was mostly silent now.
Melissa's comm badge chirped. "Yes?" she responded.
"Marrissa's calling. She's furious about her new orders and wants to
speak to the Kid's Crew Commander about them."
Melissa sighed. "On my way." She turned to the bots and exclaimed
as she left. "I'll be back in a minute."
Crow turned to Tom. "Is it okay for me to start screaming now?"
Tom shrugged. "I don't see why not."
Main Bridge:
Marrissa's image on the view screen looked annoyed. "Look, I don't
care how good Starfleet's diplomatic expert is supposed to be, I'm not working
with him. Diplomacy is one of my fields of expertise. Let me talk to my dad.
He'll straighten things out."
Melissa shook her head. "We've been over this before. Your father and
most of the bridge crew have been kidnapped."
"Oh that's right. Well, how old is this expert? Thirteeen? Sixteen?"
"I think he's in his thirties."
"Thirties? That's over the hill! No, forget it. There's no way that I'm
working with him then."
"I don't think Starfleet Command's giving you any choice on the
matter."
Marrissa snorted. "Fine. We're docked at DS9. When you get here,
have him transfer over to the Dart. It'll leave as soon as he and his aides get
here."
Meanwhile, in an unnoticed corner of the bridge....
Pearl turned to Bobo and the Observer. "So, Nelstone's going
gallivanting across the universe without us? What are we supposed to be
doing?"
The Observer's brow furrowed. "According to the puny minds aboard
this ship, well be docked at a place called Deep Space Nine, a space station
with some mild entertainment facilities."
Pearl looked up. "Entertainment facilities?"
The Observer's body nodded. "Yes. Apparently the station has some
shopping areas, something called a holosuite, and a combination bar/gambling
house."
Pearl's eyes brightened. "Gambling? Forget Nelsong. We're going to
DS9." And Pearl began to maniacally laugh...
Marrissa RR Ch 5
FIGHTER CARRIER _STARGAZER_ DOCKED AT DS9 FOR REPAIRS, TURBOLIFT
Mike itched inside his dark red uniform. He was barely able to pass himself
off as a replacement captain to Marissa, and he saw the very suspicious look
she gave Tom, Crow and their uniforms. He knew that Marissa was the only one
really buying his disguise, too, by the looks people gave him, the way he was
treated, and the headline on the Enterprise's electronic ship's mail that
said "MIKE NELSON: FAKE CAPTAIN?" He was quite glad to be leaving the
Enterprise for a while, hoping that it would let tensions to die down. He
exited the Turbolift onto the main shuttlebay and walked to the runabout that
had been prepared for him, the bots, and Marissa. He stood waiting patiently
at the door. He waited patiently for five more minutes. He noticed the
small lighted panel next to the door and pressed it, wishing that spaceship
designers would make up their minds to include self-opening doors or not.
NCC-1899 HIGH-SPEED FRIGATE _DART_ TEMPORARILY STATIONED AT DS9, BRIDGE
Captain Tycho Sturmovik put his hands over his face to hide the scowl that
he couldn't hold back any longer. He greatly disliked sixteen-year-olds and
captains that didn't seem to know anything about starships that appeared on
his ship, said that they were from the Enterprise which was currently
undergoing repairs, and assumed command apparently just because they were
from the Enterprise and therefore were the highest stage of evolution
Starfleet officers could reach. Picard sat regally in *his* chair while this
Nelson fellow paced around the deck, stopping occasionally to peer at a
console and let an expression of total incomprehension creep over his
features. _God, why do you hate me?_ he thought as he stared accusingly
towards the ceiling.
"Hey Ty, got any more Snickerdoodles?"
Sturmovik glanced down at the golden robot that was tugging at his pants
leg.
"Replicate some."
"It's busted. Servo tried to make a package of Thin Mints."
"The Girl Scouts put a patent on their cookies. The replicators won't make
them, but they shouldn't be broken."
"Tom didn't know and tried to fix it."
"Wonderful. Ask a repair crew to go after it. Then meet us in the briefing
room."
SATELLITE OF LOVE
Picard gazed sternly at the door with the dog bone on it.
It didn't budge.
_Should've signed up for those telekinesis lessons,_ he thought. "Data,
what did you find in the storage area?"
"It appears to be a large film directory, recorded by an ancient VCR. After
asessing the film quality, I have deduced that it was beamed to this ship
before the recording," the android said calmly.
"You have already sampled it?"
"Yes. It is an old American movie filmed in New Mexico about a certain
subject. It includes several Spanish names and involves hands."
"Anything more specific?"
"I am trying to block it out of my memory, Sir. I have now experienced the
human emotions of pain and disgust."
Picard turned to Worf and Troi, who were studying the door with a geological
tricorder. "Have you determined the chemical content of that door?"
Worf looked up from his tricorder. "It is a strange combination of tinfoil
and compressed movie popcorn. A hypersonaric scan reveals several more small
chambers inside ending in one large space."
Picard tapped his comm badge. "LaForge, Riker, Ensign Crusher, any
information on the structure of the ship?"
"Riker found some _Playboys_ and he won't share!" Wesley whined. "And Mr.
LaForge won't listen to me! And I lost my Chelsea Clinton love poems! And I
tripped over some screws and hit my head on a pipe and I keep finding comic
books everywhere and they aren't even Richie Rich!"
Worf rose menacingly to his feet. "The correct term is graphic novel."
"No quibbling. I call off work for today to cool down our nerves. Find
somewhere to sleep and use it." Picard turned to the mysterious door again.
"If we ever finish this up, we'll set up a phaser in weld mode and see if we
can find out what that big space is."
_DART_ BRIEFING ROOM
"The Tsebaaran hegemony is revolting."
"They should've showered more."
"Shh! Nelson, this is serious business!"
"They saw the war as a chance to secede from the Federation without fear of
retribution. Negotiate with them before the Cardassians. Be warned, for the
Cardassians have been sighted nearthere using some sort of dodging strategy,
so it will be hard to write on the hull. If you can, simply destroy the
vessel, and don't from practice your handwriting on it."
Marissa growled at this piece of information. _Doesn't he know that I am
Marissa Amber Flores Picard, daughter of Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, founder and
leader of the Kids Crew, heir to the throne of Essex, who doesn't like
titles?._ She glanced back at Sturmovik. _Tevikons act so strangely. They
all seem so moody. And what's with the hair?_
Tycho ran his fingers through his chrome hair, listening to the soft
jingling of the metal fibers. _I really hate this. I hate Marissa. I hate
this Nelson character. If they hadn't come here, I could be having that
party on the holodeck._ "I hate them," he accidentally said out loud. "The
Cardassians," he added hurriedly.
"Yeah, I really hate them. Especially after what they did to- uhhh..." Mike
briefly wondered what he would say. He wanted to show that he was a
knowledgeable member of Starfleet.
"Bajor."
"Yeah, badgers. They're such cute little animals too."
*Oh god no, he thinks he knows something.* thought Tycho and Marissa
simultaneously.
"I mean, they keep vermin away, they burrow, they do all sorts of things.
And look at how the Cardassians treat them."
"We really do need to set course," Tycho said. "Can't keep the Cardassian
ships waiting."
The Dart detatched itself from DS9 and headed into the wormhole.
TSEBAARA CITY, DSORIN, HEGEMON'S PALACE, NEGOTIATION CHAMBER
Hegemon Kluurus Gehbeln looked at the Cardassian diplomat nervously. He had
heard stories about backstabbing and two-timing in the Cardassians own
government, and the rumors about what they did to other diplomats made him
shiver. The alien at the other end of the table was a head and a half taller
than him, and the Cardassian's arms bulged threateningly. Gehbeln was quite
ready to turn over the reins of power, and felt that he couldn't prevent it.
His political training told him that the cards were all stacked against him,
so he didn't object in the least bit to losing his power and position. He
cared more about loss of consciousness, blood, or life.
"Mr. Kagalk, Dsorin welcomes you and the Cardassian military into our
alliance. You'll find our brand of recreational facilities leaves nothing to
be desired-"
"Save the tourist brochure, Gehbeln, our soldiers will find their own way to
your strip clubs. After all, they've been trained to survive when stranded
on a hostile planet, and their natural instincts will serve them as well,"
Kagalk interrupted, giving the Hegemon a nasty smile. "The defense station
is up and running, and we already have nationalized most of your shipyards
and provided them with Cardassian blueprints. As of now, you are another
member of the Cardassian Empire."
Kagalk left the chamber with his guards, leaving Kluurus to wish he had arms
that could bulge threateningly.
OUTER AREA OF DSORIN SYSTEM, _DART_ BRIDGE
Sturmovik stood next to his reptilian first mate watching the stars turn
from lines to dots as they dropped out of warp. "Srulsson, are the fighters
ready?"
"Crewed and ready. Torpedo tubess are armed, phaserss are charged, shieldss
at max."
"Disarm tubes and reduce shield power. Try and mask the phaser energy from
sensing."
"Ssir?"
"Starfleet's Diplomacy Council frowns on bringing your heavily-armed
military ship into orbit and then convincing the locals that you come in
peace."
"What about the phasers and fighters?" Mike asked.
Tycho turned to him. "Starfleet's Financial Council frowns on paying for a
ship that gets annihilated because it came in with nothing in the way of
defenses besides white doves and Peace signs painted on the warp nacelles."
"Approaching Dsorin, sir," the nav officer said.
"Are there any energy signatures?" Marissa asked as she walked over to the
tactical display.
"Yes, but they've been distorted heavily. It's hard to tell how many there
are. However, Tsebaaran ships have notably strange powerplants. It could
even be just one cargo hauler."
"Could a Cardassian ship hide its energy thingie under the Tsebaaran ship?"
Mike asked.
"A good question that we don't know the answer to. Tsebaarans are very
secretive about their engine design. It might be possible since the things
run so loud energy-wise they might corrupt other patterns around them," the
Tevikon captain said.
"Ssir, I have an idea," Srulsson lisped. "We could get Engineering to
sstudy our ssignature and ssee what happens to it when we get closer to the
Tssebaaran shipss."
"Good idea. Have them start right now. Those things are already roaring in
our ears," Marissa said. Sturmovik thought about how interesting it was that
this little twit is ordering *his* friends and officers around on *his* ship,
but decided not to bring it up.
"We don't need to mess around with the warps, Ty," Crow said. "There are
some energy blips out there that I hope are big cargo vessels that happen to
have the same energy configuration as Cardassian warships. I really hope
that I am also seeing in quintuple vision, and that they only have four
ships."
"Pinbeak and I plugged ourselves into the computer system. We knew you
wouldn't mind," Tom said over the ship's speakers.
"Well then, you be our aiming system because you can react quicker. I hope
you played a lot of skeet shooting back at your home planet."
"Does _DOOM_ qualify?"
DSORIN ORBIT, CARDASSIAN WARSHIP _GUKARALAN_ BRIDGE
"Sir, we have detected a ship coming in from the outer planets," said the
young Cardassian to Kagalk. "We could've seen it earlier, but those cargo
ships were drowning out the pattern."
Kagalk hesitated, and then said, "End silent running. Activate weapons
systems."
"But sir, shouldn't we keep ourselves quiet until they get close enough so
we can surprise them?"
"They'll fire when we start up."
"The activation only takes a second, sir. Then, we could surround them
before they could lock on to one of the ships."
"Yes, but... but..." Kagalk scratched his head. He knew that there was a
perfectly good reason to do this, but he didn't know what it was exactly.
Still he knew that the young officer was wrong. "I'll have no
insubordination on this starship. Activate."
DSORIN ORBIT, _DART_ BRIDGE
"Dodge 350 klicks to 40 degrees roll axis and lock on to the nearest ship!"
Sturmovik shouted. "Arm all defenses, launch fighters, and brace for
attack!"
The Dart slid 350 kilometers to the upper left, disgorged the fighter
squadron, and locked on to the nearest ship.
Nothing happened during the entire maneuver.
Then, a Cardassian fired a disrupter torpedo at them. It went wide, and the
Dart swerved tightly around and sprayed the warship with a quick flurry of
photon torpedoes.
Not one Cardassian ship counterattacked, not even the one they fired on. The
y waited patiently until the attack was over, and one of them fired a phaser
at them and hit another Cardassian ship that was hanging there peacefully a
full three ship-lengths away from the Dart.
"What are they doing? They're just sitting there peacefully until one of
them takes a bad shot at us, and whenever we were vulnerable they acted like
they didn't even have crews!" Tycho fumed. "Where did the famous Cardassian
sneak tactics go?"
"I know," Mike said sadly. "I know what happened to their minds."
_GUKARALAN_ BRIDGE
Kagalk sat there and watched the Federation ship carve up one of his heavy
warships with a phaser through a fog of stupidity. He had the nagging
feeling that he should be using a strategy or dodging the torpedoes or
ordering someone to fire. However, he couldn't see his way out of the haze
that had enveloped his great strategical mind. He called down to the weapons
officer, "Shoot at them, I guess." The weapons officer, who happened to be
one of the best shots in the Cardassian Navy, searched for the phaser
controls, looked straight at them, and continued to look for them. Kagalk
wondered why this mental block came when the Starfleet ship was first
detected, and grew stronger as it approached. He tried to order some warm
lukagi to calm his nerves, but was unable to find the large button on his
armrest that turned on the intercom system.
TSEBAARA CITY, ORVANAVIS SQUARE
"And so we announce our freedom from the hours of tyranny under the
Cardassians to be reunited with the great Federation once more!"
The crowd of Dsorinians roared in approval of Kluurus's grand speech. They
welcomed the captains of the frigate that had so valiantly shot the
Cardassians as they hung dead in space, and made Marissa into a Duchess.
Mike had been knighted, but Sturmovik reported that the Stargazer had been
repaired and was waiting for them in orbit. He then ran away joyously
singing the songs of his boyhood on Tevika.
"Nice people," Sir Nelson observed.
"Nice speech," Sir Servo commented.
"Nice lady in the third row," Sir Robot said enthusiastically.
"Nice day in general," said the Queen of Essex, daughter of Admiral Picard,
founder of the Kids Crew, discoverer of the Trakce, and now Duchess of the
Lenarako Province.
It seemed much less nice when the Palace exploded.
Chapter Six
By Tyler Dion (TDion34@aol.com)
Tsebaara Homeworld:
The pile of smoldering rubble that had once been the Tsebaraan Royal Palace
sat there. It shifted a little, but just smoldered in general. The area had
been cleared of people; everyone had gone home, pretty much uninterested.
After all, they hadn't had a king in years.
Abruptly, with a flash of light, a man in a so-bright-it-hurt green lab coat
appeared in front of the ruin.
"Oh, come on," he complained, looking heavenwards. "Honestly, I walk away for
two minutes and everything comes crumbling down. Well, let's try it again,
shall we?"
He snapped his fingers. Three things happened: the man vanished, muttering
"Amateurs"; a flock of ships flashed into orbit over the planet; and a white
and orange Cessna crashed into the rubble. Commodore 64 components were
scattered everywhere.
The plaintive cry "He's soiled!" drifted across the square.
* * * * *
Satellite of Love:
Worf paused in his methodical dismembering of the door. "Sir, haven't we
already been in there? Don't you recall? We read an article about alien
visitations."
"Yes, Mr Worf, I do," Picard said frostily. "I've been trying very hard to
forget, thank you. Even though, you do have a good point; we certainly don't
want to go back in there. Forget the door.
"LaForge, I want - " Picard stopped. "Where's LaForge?" he demanded.
"Sir," Data said, looking up from the computer terminal he had been poring
over since they left the theater. "Commander LaForge was never here, except
for a few moments when you decided to cut open the theater doors."
"What the hell is going on?" Picard nearly shouted, somewhat restraining his
anger.
"I would postulate, sir," Data said, "that Q himself is unsure of that. He
has intervened in the course of events numerous times, something he is
normally loath to do. There seems to be a randomizing factor that is twisting
our actions against Q's plan, whatever that might be. What the factor may be,
I cannot hypothesize." Finishing his explanation, Data returned to his
interface with the computer; Magic Voice it was named, Picard recalled.
"Admiral," Riker said as he entered the ship's bridge, "Hawk and I have
completed surveying the rest of the ship. The cargo bay is crammed full of
irradiated haggis and hamdingers. The state of crew quarters suggest the
normal occupants were, at least, mildly insane. There's absolutely nothing we
could use to escape this satellite. In my opinion, sir, we were better off
with the weed-smoking alien's robot."
"We may not need to escape, commander," Data spoke up. "According to Magic
Voice, the Satellite is equipped with engines for propulsion. They are very
similar to Starfleet standard design, barring the fact these were assembled
using enormous amounts of duct tape and Kra-zee glue."
Picard rubbed his hands briskly, trying to create an air of business;
everyone had become markedly informal since they'd been transported here.
"Well then, Mr Data," he said mildly. "I think, perhaps, you and Commander
Riker should decipher the controls for piloting this ship."
Data had just pulled the steering wheel-shaped control panel from underneath
the desk when Q's assistant flashed into existence.
"Oh, no no no no," she snapped. "You guys gotta watch movies, those are the
rules. Like it or lump it. Look," she held up her clipboard, "see? 'Picard and
Co. watch crap; Nelson and Bros. slowly driven insane by overbearing sixteen-
year-old.' Right there, in black and white. We've got a little number called
"Riding With Death" warming up on the projector, so get in the theater, you
Avon-knockoffs!" She giggled, "God, how I've wanted to do that!"
"Young lady," Picard began, striving to keep his temper in check, "I don't
care who you think you are. We are going to leave if it means having to build
a whole new starship!"
She was just about to retort when her cell phone rang. "Hang on," she
apologized, "just be a mo'." Holding the phone up to her ear, she nodded,
saying, "Uh-huh, right, 'kay, check." She folded the phone back up and dropped
it in her pocket. "All right, come on," she pointed to Riker, "you, Troi, and
What'shisface - um, Hawk, that's it - back in the van. It's time for the chase
scene!"
Giggling again, she vanished, along with Riker, and, presumably, so did Troi
and Hawk from the cargo bay, where each had been daring the other to try a
hamdinger.
"Merde," Picard muttered quietly. Straightening up, he ordered, "Data, get
that propulsion system up and running. Mr Worf, you and I are going to see if
that Gypsy robot knows anything useful."
* * * * *
Orbit above Tsebaara Homeworld:
A fleet of Cardassian ships materialized in a flash. Their captains conferred
and unanimously decided to hide. The ships took off for the shelter of the
fifth planet in the system, where they stayed. For a while.
On board the Stargazer was a different story.
"Helm!" Marissa shouted. "Get after those ships! I want to write my full name
complete with the titles I hate on them!"
"Now hang on!" Mike protested. "We've just been blown up after blowing them
up. Aren't we even or something?"
"What are you suggesting?" Marissa asked, her eyes shrinking to slits. "Are
you suggesting you know best?"
"Well...ah," Mike faltered under Marissa's gaze. "Er...well..."
"C'mon, Mike," Crow muttered from his hiding place with Tom on the rear half
of the bridge, "you're better than Ratliff-spawn."
Servo was just quietly chanting, "Mike Mike Mike Mike."
"Well...yes!" Mike regained his failing confidence. "Yes, I am! You don't go
around blowing people up for no good reason! You killed them last time, they
haven't done anything now. So there."
"Oh, crap," Servo said, shaking his bubble sadly. "Mike's dead. We're dead.
We're all dead."
"So," Marissa said, forcing a sickening smile, "what do you propose we do?"
"Do the diplomacy assignment thingy," Mike said. "That's why you're here, go
do it!"
"Yeah, go do it!" Crow cheered from the back.
"Shut up!" Tom hissed to Crow, sinking under the railing again.
"Go on," Mike insisted. "Shoo, shoo. You've got a job to do."
Glaring at Mike, Marissa turned and stalked from the bridge, muttering,
"...this time, Nelson. Come on, Shayna." The teenage girl at tactical quickly
caught with Marissa and followed her into the turbolift.
"Well." Mike looked inordinately pleased.
"Take that, Ratliff!" Tom hooted, rising up from his hiding place.
Mike motioned to the bots. "Come on, you guys, let's go - "
"Sir," the lieutenant at tactical said, "incoming message."
Mike groaned. "Typical. On screen."
"Hee, hee," Servo giggled. "Picard does it much better."
The screen activated, showing a Starfleet admiral. Mike blanched.
"Oh, ah, Admiral, um...ah, Admiral, sir...hi..."
The Admiral frowned. "That's 'Admiral Okie, sir.' And who the hell are you?!"
"From Muskogee!" Crow shouted reflexively.
Mike turned to face the bots and hissed, "Will you two just shut up?" Turning
back to the screen, he smiled weakly. "Hello, Admiral, sir. I'm Captain Mike
Nelson, from the USS Waits, you know?"
"So where's Lt. Picard?" Okie asked. "She's the one who I wanted to talk to."
"She's down on the planet, conducting negotiations," Mike said.
"Poor ambassadors," Tom muttered.
"Shut *up,*" said Mike out of the side of his mouth.
Okie's face got even more irritable. "Fine, fine, whatever. We recently lost
contact with the USS Cartwright, which was surveying the Wirrn system, near
the Cardassian/Federation border. Intelligence suspects a new Cardassian
weapon is responsible."
"What *isn't* a new Cardassian weapon?" Crow whispered to Tom.
"Billy Dee Williams," Tom whispered back.
"Ouch!"
"Nelson, can't you control those robots?" Okie demanded irritably.
If possible, Mike looked even more nervous. "Sorry, sorry, sir, sorry. Won't
happen again, sorry. What was that about disappearing ships?"
"We want the Stargazer to go and check out the Wirrn system," Okie replied.
"Leave Picard on Tsebaraa, and head out there. We want answers."
"'Leave Picard on Tsebaraa'?" echoed Crow and Tom. "Woo-hoo!"
"Yes!" Mike exclaimed, making the 'Yes' gesture with his arm. Self
consciously, he straightened up. "Oh, sorry, sir. Will-do. You bet. We're on
our way. Nelson out." The screen reverted to the scene of Tsebaraa revolving
below. "Helm," Mike ordered, "set course for the Wirrn system, warp 5."
"Aye, sir," the ensign at conn. "Course set."
"Engage."
"Picard wanna-be!"
"Shut up!"
* * * * *
Quark's Bar, Deep Space Nine:
The dabo wheel spun again amidst the shouts and cheers of heavily inebriated
consumers. Most were shouts of anger as betters lost even more latinum. Some
were of joy, like those of Pearl Forrester.
"Yes!" she yelled. "Go, Brain Guy! Yes!"
Observer just glowered at Pearl. "Microcephalic ameboid," he spat between
gritted teeth. "It's not *easy* stopping that wheel, you know. How would you
feel if you had to stop a wheel with a brain in a dish that was on the other
side of room - being used as an ashtray!?" The last was yelped out as Observer
dashed across the room to keep any more smoldering junga root from being
stubbed out in his pineal gland.
"Ouch," Pearl winced. "That's gotta hurt. Hey - Brain Guy! Get back here!"
"Not now," floated back across the crowded room. "I'm a little busy."
Pearl pushed her way through the crowd back to their table, which had been
appropriated by two sleepy-looking Morestrans who were watching Observer put
out his brain in placid silence. Bobo was still curled up beneath the table,
twitching occasionally, but somehow managing to sleep in the raucous bar.
"Brain Guy!" Pearl bellowed angrily. "We've got two hundred bars of latinum
on the table and you're worried about your brain?"
"Not any more," Observer said sullenly, as he looked up from dusting his
singed brain. "Look."
Turning around, Pearl could see a trio of station security guards talking to
that repulsive barkeep, Quark, who was gesturing over to their table. The
guards nodded and began to thread their way through the crowd.
Pearl barely gave Observer and his abused brain a glance as she made for the
second floor exit.
"Run!"
* * * * *
The USS Stargazer fell out of warp and into reality in the Wirrn system. A
smoldering dwarf star was slowly being orbited by bloated gas giants. A number
of the giants had moons bigger than the size of Earth. A dying star system in
the last days of its senility. And, apparently, the resting place of the USS
Cartwright's crew.
"Okay," Mike announced to the bridge crew, which was secretly relieved by the
fact they were being commanded by someone who was actually an adult and,
nominally, a competent person. "Let's find that ship."
Any hopes the crew may have harbored of having a commander who was actually a
professional were quickly dashed. Still, he was better than the uber-ego girl.
"Captain," the nameless lieutenant at tactical said - Mike made a note to
learn her name - "we have an incoming transmission from the moon of the fifth
planet."
"Put it up," Mike ordered to the sound of quiet snickers from the back.
The view of the planet was replaced by a disfigured man with *huge* knees.
The camera zoomed in on his face as the man began to speak, "THe MaSTeR iS NoT
IN RighT noW, bUt IF yoU wOuLd Like TO leaVE A meSsAgE, hE WiLL geT bAcK TO
yoU."
--
Tyler Dion E-mail: TDion34@aol.com
?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?_?
"So eight 5 and 1/4 inch floppy disks hold the key to time travel?"
- Tom Servo, Mystery Science Theater 3000: 821 Time Chasers
Chapter Seven: What Th'....
By Bill Livingston (bill@Traveller.COM)
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
BRIDGE, USS STARGAZER
"Oh, HeLlO, mIkE," Torgo said in his wavery, quavering voice. "DiDn'T
eXpEcT yOu WaY oUt HeRe. LoNg TiMe No SeE."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Torgo?!?" Mike asked in puzzlement. "What in the - you guys, get out
from under that console! What the heck are you doing out here?"
The repulsive looking man on the screen moved his arms in a gesture
which could have only been a futile attempt at a shrug. Most of the
Stargazer's crew unconsciously recoiled from the sight of him. Only years of
Starfleet training and discipline kept many of them from joining the robots under
the bridge consoles.
For his part, Mike was puzzled but hardly fazed at the sight of Torgo.
He had come to regard the strange goatish man with a hint of bemusement and
sympathy - and in any case, he had seen creepier things since first
setting foot on the satellite.
But despite Tom's teasing, he didn't think they looked *anything* alike!
"I, uH, i KiNd Of EmIgRaTeD oUt HeRe A cOuPlE oF hUnDrEd YeArS aGo. I
hOoKeD uP wItH tHiS pEdDlEr NaMeD jOnEs, WhO lEt Me HiTcH a RiDe On HiS
sHiP. hE, hE gAvE mE a LiFt iN eXcHaNgE fOr SoMe Of My NaVeL lInT."
"Your navel lint? What did he -" Mike stopped, having made the
connection faster than usual. "On, on second thought, let's not go there. Hey,
listen, we came out here looking for a ship named, um, hey Crow, what
was the name of that ship?"
Crow poked his head out from under the console and said, "The Cartwright, ya
big-" Then he caught sight of Torgo in the monitor, screamed a girlie
scream and ducked back underneath.
"Oh, YeAh," Torgo said. "SuRvEy ShIp. NiCe CrEw - CaPtAiN MaTsU aLwAyS
dRoPpEd By FoR pIzZa On FrIdAyS."
"Yeah, that's the one. You seen it?"
"WeLl - nOt SiNcE iT bLeW uP, nO."
"WHAT?!?" Mike yelled. The crew on the bridge had already pretty much
figured out the truth, but were still shocked to hear it put so baldly.
"Wh- what happened?"
"ThEy WeRe OuT dOiNg WhAtEvEr It Is SuRvEy ShIpS dO oUt HeRe, WhEn tHeSe
OtHeR ShIpS cAmE fRoM oUt Of NoWhErE aNd - BoOm!" He paused for a
minute, then added, "I'vE gOt PiCtUrEs If YoU WaNnA sEe."
"Huh?"
"YeAh, I wAs TrYiNg To TaPe 'WhEeL oF fOrTuNe', AnD aCcIdEnTaLlY gOt
ThAt InStEaD. hAnG oN jUsT a SeCoNd, AnD i'Ll GeT tHe TaPe. NoW wHeRe DiD i
PuT iT -" He began patting down his pockets, searching for the tape. After a
minute, he said, "Oh, YeAh, I rEmEmBeR nOw!" He reached a twitching
hand down into -
"EWWWWWWWW!!!!!" Mike said.
"Oh dear LORD!!!" the tactical officer shouted, throwing her hands over
her face.
On the back of the bridge, an ensign slumped over in his seat, fainted
dead away. One of the Stargazer's Cardassian crew was busily heaving up the
fish juice and lizard egg she'd had for breakfast.
"I fOrGoT, I pUt It In My OlD PiZzA dElIvErY pOuCh." Torgo said with a
crooked smile. "Do YoU wAnT Me To BeAm It OvEr, Or JuSt PlAy It FoR yOu
HeRe?"
Mike looked around the bridge. These people were all hardened space
veterans, but the thought of actually touching that data tape had
reduced them all to quivering blobs. And truth to tell, he wasn't so keen on
the idea himself. "Well - why don't you just play it for us, and we'll
record it on our end?"
"OkEe-DoKe." Torgo stumbled off towards a panel. From under a console,
Tom said, "Smartest decision you've made all day, Nelson!"
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
TSEBAARA CITY, CASTLE RUINS
Shayna Saks gulped and tried again. "Marrissa, you've got to calm
down."
"Calm DOWN!??" the young commander yelled. "The Stargazer's warped out
of range, and Command has placed that simpleton, that churlish idiot, that
- that - that -"
"Now, Marrissa..."
"That SQUAREHEADED SQUAREHEAD!!!! In command of *my* ship!"
"Well, it's only your ship in the sense tha-"
Marrissa wheeled and looked her friend in the eye. "I told you, Shayna,
I don't care what anyone says - Stargazer is *my* ship!! And someone is
going to pay for this!"
Shayna shook her head. When Marrissa was in one of her moods, there was
no reasoning with her. And there were other, more peculiar things going
on. "Fine. What about that ancient aircraft they found in the palace
wreckage?"
Temporarily distracted from her snit, Marrissa turned with an annoyed
frown and surveyed the unlikely scene. "It's some old Earth air vehicle. I
think it's called a 'Cessna' or some such. There was a really primitive
looking computer on board, much too weak to fly the blasted thing by itself, but
no sign of any people." She shook her head. "Kind of weird, actually."
"Marrissa, there are some *extremely* weird things going on around
here!" Shayna exclaimed. "Just think about it - war with the Dominion is
looming, and someone at Starfleet command pulls your father, along with most of
his senior staff, off the Federation flagship for some secret assignment.
This odd 'Captain Nelson' shows up to replace him, with his strange little
robots in tow - and I thought Data was the only artificial life form in the
fleet! The vaunted Cardassian fleet just rolls over and dies!" (Although Shayna
didn't notice it, a sly smile briefly crossed Marrissa's face at that)
"Then the Tsebaaran's ancient castle explodes and this antique air machine -
from Earth, no less, - simply falls into our laps!"
"Are you done with the recap?" Marrissa asked in a bored tone.
"But don't you see?? None of this makes any sense - what if someone or
something is manipulating events, and we're just pawns?"
The young commander smiled condescendingly and patted her friend on the
shoulder. "Shayna, you're imagining things. Yes, the arrival of this
'Cessna' is a tad unusual, and granted Nelson and his robotic chums are
an annoyance - particularly since they have *my* ship!" she said through
gritted teeth, "But, what the hey - I've faced tough challenges before!
And overcome them, I might add - the laws of chance are my friends!"
Shayna couldn't argue with that - it was uncanny how many scrapes and
seemingly deadly situations Marrissa managed to walk away from, not only
without a scratch, but with a fistfulls of medals and promotions!
"And, hey, at least I got a new title out of the deal - I'm now 'Duchess
of the Lenarako Province'. Of course," she quickly added, "I hate all
these titles, but they're fun to collect."
Shayna sighed. "Whatever you say, Marrissa."
"That's right," Marrissa said with a smile that made Shayna's blood chill.
"Now, if we're through blithering around out here, we *do* have a job to
do. Let's go see the Hegemon and iron out the details of their re-
admission."
As the two young girls left the ruins of the castle, they were unaware
they were being observed from two different vantage points.
From high above, Q sat and watched. *At least someone in this whole
fiasco is acting the way I planned,* he thought. Despite his seeming
nonchalance, the near-omnipotent being was worried. For some unaccountable reason,
his carefully planned events seemed to be going awry, almost as if there
were some unknown force introducing random chaotic elements. *I suppose that
clod Nelson is either smarter than anyone realizes or just on a lucky
streak. Probably the lucky streak.* Even on that Satellite, Jean-Luc
and his motley crew seem to be coming and going with no rhyme
ng for a beer and a bag of pretzels and began following them at a discrete
distance.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
BRIDGE, SATELLITE OF LOVE
The theater doors closed with a "thud" as Picard, Data, and Worf
stumbled up to the console. Picard looked ashen and dazed, Data was bemused, and
the Klingon looked as if he wanted nothing more than a throat to rip open.
"Mr. Data," Picard asked in a voice that quavered a bit, "What was the
name of that wretched piece of so-called entertainment again?"
"I believe the name of it was 'Monster-a-Go-Go', though there were no
go-go's involved, and, if the narrative is to be believed, no monster
either - despite what we saw."
"Those responsible for that hideousness have no honor!" Worf proclaimed
loudly.
"No argument there, Mr. Worf," Picard agreed. "How many - " Picard
stopped, gulped, and continued in a somewhat calmer voice. "How many of
these horrible things have we seen?"
Data thought for a second. "I believe the total is currently 22,
including but not limited to 'Werewolf', 'The Deadly Mantis', 'Moon Zero Two',
'Earth vs. The Spider', 'Santa Claus', 'Escape 2000' and 'Eegah!'."
Worf looked surprised. "How is that possible? We have not been trapped
here long enough to see that many bad movies!"
"It's possible that Q is manipulating the time-stream somehow, or that
this area of space is somehow in the throes of a chronological upheaval."
"It bears investigating, I agree," Picard said. "However, rather than
dwelling on these past tortures - "
"TOH-CHA!!!!" Data exclaimed.
"Must you do that, Commander?"
"I am sorry, Admiral," Data said, "But since we viewed that cinema about
the very old teenagers, that response seems to have been hard-coded into
my neural net."
"Never mind, Mr. Data," Picard sighed. "If we don't find a way out of
here, I suspect that we may all suffer damage to our 'neural nets'. Have you
had any luck finding this other robot, this 'Gypsy'?"
"I am sorry, sir," he replied, but there has been no opportunity. Ever
since we attempted to take control of this satellites guidance system, we have
been forced almost continuously into the theater section."
"Well, we seem to have a short breather," Picard said. "The two of you
fan out and try to locate her. We need her help desperately."
"Oh, don't bother, Mr. Data," came a naggingly familiar voice, "You
either, tread-head! You won't find her."
"Q!" Picard exclaimed, whirling as his old antagonist materialized on
the Bridge of the SOL, "What the devil have you done with her?"
"You have not hurt her, have you?" Data asked.
"Ah, concern for one's own kind is admirable, Mr. Data. No, I haven't
harmed the poor dear. I merely reasoned that since she represented your
best chance for escaping this dreary little satellite, she was better
off out of the way. So I - exchanged her for someone else."
"What is the point of all this, Q?" Picard spat heatedly. "Why subject
us to this prolonged torture?"
"TOH-CHA!!!"
"Quiet, Data! Why do you keep tossing us back and forth, making my crew
appear and disappear randomly? Why are you playing with the time
stream?!?"
"That, mon admirale, is *my* little secret."
Through his anger, Picard looked into the face of Q, and saw something
there he could recall having seen only once before: uncertainty. And that
uncertainty filled him with a gnawing dread.
"You don't know, do you?" he said in a near whisper. "Somehow, someone
has at least partially usurped your control here, and you have no idea who
or why. Tell me I'm wrong, Q."
For a moment, Q looked as though he might confess. However, his inflated
ego quickly took over. "Don't be absurd, Jean-Luc!" he scoffed. "Now,
before you go to meet your next cinema masterpiece - a piece of visual
dribble entitled, 'Danger: Death Ray' - why don't you meet your new
assistant? She'll be standing out here, keeping an eye on things while
you three enjoy yourselves. She's come a long way to be here, so do try and
make her feel at home. Oh, and I understand you and she have a little
something in common. Perhaps she'll be better company than that harridan you
currently call a wife."
Picard's face flushed with anger. "I you think..."
"Must run, mon admirale. Have a pleasant time. Ta." With a flash, Q
vanished, and was replaced on the bridge by a woman.
"Where am I?" she asked in a surprising alto voice.
The first word that occurred to Data to describe the woman was
"statuesque". She was quite tall, and amply endowed, She was wearing a jumpsuit of
some tightly fitting silvery material which left very little of her physique to
the imagination.
However, it was not at her curvaceous figure Picard was staring. It was
at the woman's face. Her short-cut blonde hair framed a pair of smoldering
eyes, plush lips - and several sets of nanoelectronic devices, attached
to her brow. Picard recognized them instantly.
"Borg," he whispered hoarsely.
The woman turned to him. Recognition dawned in her eyes. "Locutus," she
said evenly, raising an eyebrow at him. "Or should I say Captain Jean-
Luc Picard."
"What is your designation?" Picard asked
"I am Seven of Nine," she replied. "Though I am more familiarly known
as 'Seven'." She examined him again. I see you have regained your human
form. I am also working towards that goal - albeit reluctantly."
Picard started to ask what had happened to her, and how she had been
freed from Borg influence, when those infernal alarms started ringing.
"OH NO!!!!" The three of them exclaimed, as they involuntarily ran for
the theater doors, "WE'VE GOT MOVIE SIIIIIIIIIIGN!!!!!"
Seven looked after them with a puzzled expression. From inside the
strange door, she heard someone yell "IT'S TOH-CHA!!!!" Curious about her new
surroundings, she wandered about the bridge. After a bit, she
discovered what looked like an old fashioned periscope. Wondering about its
function, she pulled it towards her and peered inside.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
DEEP SPACE NINE - SECURITY OFFICE
Pearl, Bobo and Observer sat in nervous silence as Odo, chief of
security for Deep Space Nine, regarded them with something between amusement and
contempt. This unnerved Pearl a bit, since this was *her* usual
attitude towards others.
"So," he finally drawled in his gravelly voice, "You three are replacement
crew from the Enterprise. Funny, they usually tend to attract a
somewhat higher caliber of personnel. So, tell me," he said, leaning forward and
squinting at them a bit, "How exactly did you rig the tables at Quark's?"
"Rigged?!?" Observer exclaimed in offended tones. "Now see here, just
what are you implying?"
"I think you know," Odo replied coldly. "The odds of hitting that many
wins in a row at Dabo are astronomical beyond belief."
"Hey, you're so smart, no-nose," Pearl said with some bravado, "Why
don't *you* tell *us*, hmmm?"
The changeling's face registered annoyance. "That's what's strange -
all I could find - other than your friend's rotten bananas - was rigging
equipment that belongs to Quark."
"Wait a second," Pearl yelled, out of her chair and nose-to-almost-nose
with Odo. "That little wombat?!? You're tellin' me that we're being held
because the *house* cheated? What kind of penny-ante Mickey Mouse space station
are you running here, anywho?"
Odo stared at her for a moment, then slowly walked back around his desk.
"Granted, Quark has a lot to answer for, but it isn't *Quark's* honesty
being called into question today." He sat lightly in the chair and
picked up a PADD. "Let's start with this so-called ship of yours, the U.S.S.
Waits. I checked with Starfleet - the only ship to ever bear that name
was a light cruiser which retired from active duty and went to the breakers
over 80 years ago."
"Ahhhhhh, yeah," Pearl replied. "That's what they're supposed to say.
It's a secret ship."
"Mmm-hmm. And there's no record of a 'Commander Pearl Forrester' listed
either. Or are you a secret commander, as well?"
"That's exactly right. You're pretty bright for a - a - whatever you
are."
"I can't tell you how much that means to me," Odo sneered. "Now, as for
you two," he said, turning to Observer and Bobo, "I can't even tell what
species you are. What's your home planet?"
"I, ah, I am from, ummmmm, let's see, ah," Observer said triumphantly,
"I am a resident of Branegaius III."
"I see. And what's the purpose of this - this organic construct you
carry around?" he asked, indicating Observer's brain-in-a-bowl.
Observer thought for a second. "It's a symbiote. you know, like those,
oh, what are they, Thralls or Thrills or whatever they call themselves these
days."
The Constable stared skeptically at him for a moment, then turned to
Professor Bobo. "And what about you?"
"I'm from Earth," Bobo said simply. "Can I have my rotten bananas
back?"
"Maybe later," Odo said. "You don't look like anyone I've ever met from
Earth. In fact, you look more like some mutant, hornless mugato."
"Well, thank you," Bobo said, preening. "I try to stay groomed."
"What part of Earth are you from?"
"Oh, the ruins of New York City."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You know - big statue on its side, they finally did it, darn them all
to heck, et cetera, et cetera."
Odo snorted, then leaned forward to glare at the trio. "Something here
doesn't smell right."
"Oh, that's probably just me. I have this horrible rash on my -"
"Booboo, shut *UP*!!" Pearl hissed.
"I'm not entirely sure what sort of game you people are playing here,"
Odo said caustically, "But I'm going to get to the bottom of it! And when I
do..." The changeling's reply was cut off as his communications board
beeped. "Odo here."
"Constable," one of his Bajoran officers said, "I have a message
incoming from Enterprise for you - screen only."
"Put it up," he said. He read it through carefully. Then, just to make
sure, he read it again. Finally, he looked up at the trio with a
vaguely irritated and disappointed expression.
"Well," he said finally. "It seems you have some support from your
ship. The Kids' Crew captain has vouched for you."
"The little sno- uh, I mean, the sweet girl came through for us?" Pearl
exclaimed. "YES!!!" She chortled as she high-fived Observer.
Odo snorted. "'Kids Crew' - bah! Whose bright idea was that?!?"
"Oh don't be a sore loser," Pearl chided him. "So we're free to go,
then?"
"Sorry," he said, smiling that insufferably condescending smile again,
"Lt. Robinson has requested you remain here. She and the Enterprise's acting
chief medical officer are coming to collect you shortly."
"Oh," Pearl said, disappointed to not be able to return to the game
tables.
Time seemed to drag on as they waited for Robinson and Dr. Picard. Odo
sat and glowered at the others. Pearl and Observer talked in hushed tones,
while Bobo simply ate his bananas. Shortly, the doors opened, and a
tall, bald black man walked in. "Constable, how are our guests?"
"Fine, Captain, but I think they're a bit anxious to be on their way."
"Commander Forrester?" he said to Pearl in a deep, sonorous voice. "I'm
Captain Benjamin Sisko, station commander."
"Uhbu - uhbu -"
"Pearl?" Observer said. "For heaven's sake, close your mouth. Or at
least don't drool so much."
Pearl kept staring at him for a moment, before finally remembering to
breathe. "Wow, what a hu- I - I mean, how do you do!"
Sisko blinked. "Very well, thank you. I'm here to release you to your
shipmates. Lieutenant? Doctor?" Lieutenant Melissa Robinson stepped in the door, looking extremely nervous.
"Now, Pearl, don't say anything..."
But she couldn't help herself.
The person standing behind Melissa was hardly Dr. Beverly Howard Crusher
Picard. He was a tallish man, with a huge shock of brown hair and a
bushy mustache, both cut through with a streak of white. The green spectacles
matched the bright neon green coat he wore over a standard Starfleet
medical uniform. "Ah," he said, "So glad you could join us!"
"CLAYTON?!?!?" she bellowed.
He smiled evilly. "Exactly!" He walked over to Pearl and leaned into
her ear. "I think you're going to like it here, ma - there are so many new
worlds to conquer!" And he laughed a chilling laugh.
After a moment, Pearl joined him.
What does the return of Dr. Clayton Forrester bode?
What will Marrissa and Shayna do on the planet?
What will Torgo's recording reveal?
What can Picard and company do to survive?
What is the air speed of an unladen swallow?
All this and more in the next pulse-pounding chapter!
Chapter 8: Collisions
by Melvin Pollack
Melissa Robinson guided the MADS through the door. "These wacky
crew members of mine," she shouted to Sisko and Odo. "Always referring
to their duties in cliched Mad Scientist form. You just have to love their
sense of humor...."
She watched the door close, then spun around to face the MADS.
"Are you out of your minds?" Robinson whispered sharply. "Cheating at
Dabo! Running loose and telling people the first stupid things to pop
in your heads! Shouting how you'll take over the Universe! What's next?"
"Oh, the Universe take-over attempt," Dr Forrester replied. "You
know, the gloat, the ingenious plan, the evil laugh...."
Robinson gave Dr Forrester an icy stare. "If I didn't need your
input on multidimensional space aspects, you wouldn't have even been
brought out of cold storage. As for your pathetic attempts at being
evil, don't even try it."
"Really, I refuse to take this from an 18-year-old hack of a
human," Observer replied. "The way you shout is annoying. You realize
that you are an ameoba to me."
Robinson, deciding to use the diplomatic methods outlined in the
Kids Crew manual, punched Observer in the nose. "Ameoba that, pal!
Now, why don't we all go back to the ship and.... Where's Bobo?"
"Well, I'm not sure," Pearl said slyly. "Something about using
Docking Pylon 2 to recreate King Kong." She smiled as Robinson screamed
and ran to the nearest turbolift. "Write when you find work!"
Dr Forrester shook his head. "Now that Miss Mannerless is gone,
we can get down to business."
"Clayton, how did you even get here. How did you...."
"Plenty of time for that later, Mom. We need to make plans. For
I, Clayton Forrester, have figured out a way to bend reality to our own
desires. Mwa, ha ha. I'm a naughty boy...."
"Wait a second," Observer interrupted. "You mean to say that
YOU'RE responsible for all the dimensional shifts and time loops?"
"Well, not quite," Dr Forrester admitted sheepishly. "That, I had
to outsourse."
[SOL]
Seven of Nine continued to peer through the electron microscope.
"So you're responsible for the recent changes in the space time
continuum."
"That is correct," Ned replied. "We used the Duex ex Machina
machine to piggyback onto that wierd entities signal. The one named
after a letter. Every time he jumps to another dimension, we are capable of
shifting the time space continuum. The coincidence fields are also in
major amounts of flux."
"Why?"
"Unknown. It is also unimportant. Our increased control is what
is important."
"But why tamper with complex dimensional fields? Besides
attempting to assimilate another race, I mean."
"We can use these fields to achieve our goal of conquering the
universe. But mostly, it's just for kicks."
"This universe takeover is unacceptable" Seven replied.
Ned thought about this for 12.3 microseconds. "This method of
communication is inefficient. We can speed our conversation by linking
to your internal nanite probes."
Seven thought about this. It would be nice to be part of a
collective again. And this method of conversation was woefully
inefficient. "Very well, I accept."
[DS9 - Arboredum]
Robinson shook her head. "Will you get down from there?"
"Be right down!" Bobo replied. Robinson watched as Bobo let go of
the top of the tree and dropped onto his back on the hardwood floor.
"Ow, right on my rash. I should have landed on my stoumach."
"Never mind that," Robinson said as she helped Bobo to his feet.
Sitting on a nearby log, she motioned for Bobo to do the same. "What am
I going to do with you?"
Bobo sat down next to her. "Just give me a banana, a tree and a
laboratory. That's all I ask out of life."
Robinson smiled and touched him lightly on the arm. "Are you sure
that you don't need anything else."
"Well, I also need rash ointments and tick sprays...."
"I don't understand it," Robinson said. "Every other sentence,
you say something disgusting. And part of me finds you so repulsive."
She moved closer, until their lips almost touched. "So why does the
other part find you so attractive?" she whispered.
With that, they began to kiss passionately.
[Stargazer]
Mike watched the film for what seemed like the 200th time. "I
don't get it. One second, the ship is standing still. The next second,
it's surronded by energy. And the next second, it's destroyed without
the slightest energy trace." He paused as the turbolift doors opened. "Oh,
hi Gypsy. If we could only figure out what that energy field....
GYPSY!?! What are you doing here?"
"Never mind. I figured out what caused the ship's destruction.
It was a coincidence nova wave, caused when you and Marrissa shook
hands."
"Wha.... Huh?"
Gypsy shook her head. Why did she have to work with *men* of all
creatures. "Look, think of luck and coincidence as a substance that
affects luck. If you manipulate the substance, you control luck. And
if you seriously disturb it, you can cause a ripple effect that causes this
substance to jump out of its dimensional barriers and manifest itself as
an energy wave."
"But you said it was caused by.... our meeting?"
Tom looked up. "I get it. Let's look at what we know about
Marrissa. She was brought into command by a fluke, and suceeded because
Gul Dukat forgot that you might need a fleet to take over the planet.
Since then, she's advanced through quirks on the other side such as
sensor disruption, cloak failures, undermanned staffs.... In short, she is one
lucky bastard."
"You're half right," Crow responded. "Notice I'm not saying which
half."
"Now, let's look at Mike. He was knocked out and shot into space,
forced to watch bad movies, and ultimately sent well into the future.
This is the highlight of his life, when we study his professional
career, not to mention his social life...."
"Hey, hey...." Mike responded.
"The point," Tom continued, "is that an extremely unlucky man met
an extremely lucky little girl at a time when the Universe was in flux."
"I get it," Crow said. "Sort of like a cold front meeting a warm
front."
"And the resulting storm destroyed the ship," Mike finished.
"That sucks."
[Camping Planet]
Riker looked at the SOL above him, wondering what horrors his
captain was facing. He was also trying to ignore the superhippie who
had decided to call off his evil robot and become friends.
Riker was dragged out of his thoughts by Calypto, who was bounding
toward him and Troi. "Now that we're all cool buddies and such, I would
like to give you these precious gems." He handed a handful of clear
crystals to Troi. "These crystals are given to show appreciation.
However, I doubt that you would be farmiliar with such gems...."
"Oh, cubic zircona," Troi responded. "How.... nice."
"Now that we've done the special gem offering, you should join me
in a "joint relationship" joint. Hee, hee. I love saying that."
"Uh, thanks," Riker responded. "But I don't want to...."
"Then you are undeserving of my special gems!" With that, Calypto
knocked the gems out of Troi's hands and onto the ground.
Suddenly, Ensign Hawke came running up toward them. "Sirs, in the
van. I just found something very interes...." He stopped talking and
started screaming as he slipped on the gems and fell down a deep
crevice.
Troi screamed. "Oh, my God. They killed Ensign Hawke."
Riker marched right up to Calypto. "You bastard!"
"You dare show non-love emotions to Calypto, liason of the
Stones? I'll show you. Shazzam! My people will now cut off all the
non-essential power to your station for a period of 30 seconds. That
includes the theater, the lights, the nanites, Seven of Nine, the
communicators, the life support systems and the coffee pot."
Riker looked back at the station. How could his crewmates survive
without coffee?
[Tsebaara City]
Marrissa Picard walked into her room at the Hilton, with Shayna in
tow. The common room had a television set, and a couch facing it about
6 feet away. Directly opposite to it, Jay Gordon sat. Alexander sat 2.5 ft
to his left, and Patterson Supra sat 2.5 ft to his right. Martin Sussix
sat on the floor, 2.5 ft in front of Patterson. Clara Sutter sat
approximately 4.33 ft away from Martin, following a line that made a 30
degree angle to a line parrallel to the TV screen.
Marrissa walked up to Clara. "Are you enjoying yourself?"
Clara nodded. "Absolutely. I'm sitting on Alexander's lap."
Marrissa rolled her eyes. "What are you watching?"
"Oh, some show about three guys who watch bad movies and make fun
of them. We just put in on," Jay answered. "Anyway, they stopped
watching the movie because of some blackout. Now, they're waiting for
the lights to come on."
Marissa listened to them banter for a bit. "Are these guys trying
to be cool? Get a load of the guy with the English accent. He talks
just like my father." She paused as recognition began to set in. "He sounds
like dad, too."
Suddenly, the lights turned on to reveal the faces of the three
guys who had been making fun of movies. Marrissa almost fainted,
grabbing a side of the couch. "DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
To Be....
