MSTed: Return to Glory MSTing by Bryan Lambert Original by Stephen Ratliff Web Site Nine Tags: [SR] [PG] [CASTLE] AUTHOR'S NOTE: There are a number of riffs in this MSTing that take on an additional layer of double meaning or irony "thanks to" the release of Mr. Ratliff's pornfic involving Wesley Crusher and Marrissa. The Return to Glory riffing was done almost entirely before The Horror existed, but the new, suddenly "interesting" riffs are being left in because, well, they're even funnier now. Enjoy! [Season 10 Theme] SOL Bridge. The bots are, as they are wont to do, having a lovely conversation of some sort... TOM: Crow, you'd better start thinking about your career. CROW: Well you'd better start thinking about yours! TOM: No, I'm pretty sure that it's -you- who'd better start thinking about -yours-. CROW: I've done some research into the matter, Tom, and I've discovered that you'd better be thinking about yours. TOM: Maybe I'm thinking of Gypsy. Maybe she'd better start thinking about hers? [Mike enters, tossing a ball in a catcher's mitt] MIKE: Hey, Crow, I found your catcher's mitt. CROW: Yeah? Well you'd better start thinking about yours! MIKE: I don't have a catcher's mitt. CROW: Still... you'd better! Start thinking! About yours! TOM: Maybe it's the Nanites. Perhaps they'd better start thinking about theirs? MIKE: I think you guys have got your Travolton levels up way too high. Lemme hook you up to the e-meter and see. We'll be right back. [Commercial Sign] MIKE: There. That oughta clear out those engrams. Hey, Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise are calling. [Castle Forrester, alternating shots with the SOL bridge. We're all familiar with the drill by now, right? Right.] PEARL: Ah, Nelsciento. Prepare for ultimate pain. Prepare for agony the likes of which this world has never seen. Prepare for... Stephen Ratliff's latest Marrissa Story! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA! [Thunder crashes, wolves howl, ominous organ chords play.] CROW: And... TOM: We're supposed to be concerned because... PEARL: It's a new Marrissa Story! From Stephen Ratliff! Muahahaha? [As before, only about half as much. It was on 8 before, and we need it at about 4 now. Thanks. You're a doll.] MIKE: But it's not Dr. Thinker or anything. CROW: Yeah, after the Doc, and those godawful Buffy stories, getting back to some nice, wholesome, predictable Ratliff seems like a nice change of pace! TOM: Wait. This isn't the porn one, right? PEARL: There's a porn one? CROW: Tom! Shut up! PEARL: Perhaps for another day. No, this isn't the porn one. This is just a dip into pregnancy, negotiations, sibling rivalry, space battles, and persecution of the overweight entitled "Return to Glory". And try to pretend it hurts, just a little? MIEK: We've got Ratliff sign! [DOOR SEQUENCE] >NEW TNG Return To Glory 1/1 [G] (Marrissa Stories) >Author: Stephen Ratliff MIKE: Who's the prolific VU grad with values like your mom and dad? BOTS: RATLIFF! MIKE: I can dig it. >Email: sratliff@runet.edu >Date: 1998/10/29 >Forums: alt.startrek.creative TOM: The elephant graveyard of Trek characters. >Title: Return To Glory >Author: Stephen Ratliff (sratliff@runet.edu) >Series: Marrissa Stories >Parts: REP 1/1 CROW: Because parts is parts. >Rating: [G] MIKE: Guaranteed inoffensive by Jack Valenti and his cheeks. >Codes: TOM: Up, down, up, down, left, right, A, B, Select, Start. > >Summary: The Klingons decide to enter the last Romulan War, and Marrissa >is sent to convince them to come in on the Federation side. Meanwhile, >there is a spy on the Enterprise CROW: Fairly skimpy, even for a Ratliff summary. I'm not sure if that bodes well or ill. >Return to Glory > >A Marrissa Story >By Stephen Ratliff MIKE: So, is this a Marrissa Story? >Start date: Jan 3, 1996 >Completion date: July 13, 1998 TOM: This took two and a half years to finish? Man, if there were some peculiar, omnipotent being controlling our very words and thoughts, I bet he wouldn't feel so bad about how long it, theoretically, would have taken him to make fun of Stevo's little story here. >Prologue > > Once Marrissa Picard became Commanding Admiral Star Fleet, MIKE: All hope was lost. Our only chance was to defect to the Cardassians before it was too late. > the >Last Romulan War moved into a stage of even advantages. Generally >such times are the least likely times for others to chose sides. TOM: However, the second paragraph of a Ratliff story is the most likely place for the first tense problem to occur. > But >even when all things are equal, the potential for something or someone >to chose sides and tip the balance remains. CROW: Is balance-tipping anything like cow tipping. Mike? > For the Last Romulan War, it was the Klingons. CROW: Klingons are master cow-tippers. They consider it a warrior's pastime. > The Klingons >don't often stay out of wars, this one was no different. The question >was which side would they come in on. MIKE: And would they bring a foreign object into the ring? > While the Klingons had been >friendly with the Federation for quite some time, TOM: The Federation wasn't comfortable going beyond heavy petting. > there was a belief >that there was too much contact between the two and something counter >balance that was needed. TOM: You know, after all these years, and all these fanfics, there's something strangely... comforting about that sentence. CROW: Yeah, like coming home after a long trip, finding your apartment broken into, but realizing the crooks left your Genesis CD's untouched. > That belief made the chances of the >Federation receiving aid from the Klingon Empire harder. > But the Romulan Star Empire had an even lesser chance of aid. MIKE: They always practiced "safe treks" >Being historical enemies to the Klingons did not bode well for the >Romulans. That had been overcome before though, the relationship with >the house of Duras being a prime example. TOM: A prime example of mildly interesting political intrigue, unlike what you are about to read. > Whichever side the Klingons joined would win. That was a near >certainty. It only remained to see which side would return the >Klingons to the glory of battle. CROW: However, it would be Peter Cetera who would ultimately teach the Klingons about the glory of love. > >Professor John P. Hereomise III >Chair, Department of History, >University of Essex. CROW: In the future, even furniture will have college degrees! > >Chapter One > > He once was known as Kern, son of Mog. TOM: Half man, half dog? > Now he was leader of the >Klingon High Council. MIKE: They wake and bake every morning! Woooo! > It was a quark of fate that he was chosen to >lead the Empire some eight years before. CROW: Quark of fate? TOM: Well, he does run a casino. > Doctor Bashir had tried to >wipe his memories so he could live with honor after the House of Mog >was thrown out of the Empire. MIKE: [Bashir] Take two bottles of tequila and call me in the morning. > It had worked, for a while. Then when >Marrissa Picard had come to arbitrate the succession after the >unexpected death of Gowron, he'd remembered. TOM: So, Marrissa is medically equivalent to a good whack on the head? CROW: Seems right to me. > It was another of the >Klingon body's famous redundancies. CROW: I present to you... a Klingon with five asses! > He'd brought his brother's house back into the Empire again. TOM: The House of Mogh must be a double-wide. >Worf's valor in battle had helped. As for Alexander, well as a >warrior he was a failure, as a good luck charm he'd had better luck, >and as a diplomat, well he had the best record of any Klingon >Ambassador. MIKE: And as a woman, he was positively scrumptious! > Today, however, would be different. Kern could not speak >for his family today, well except to show pictures of his new >grandniece. That was understandable, CROW: To everyone except the readers... > and since Kern had no child of >his own, and was of an age to be a grandparent, this was expected, >even among Klingon warriors. Sit a group of old Klingon warriors in a >room and watch the pictures of there hopeful little warrior >grandchildren come out. MIKE: This ritual is called "k'mpagh 'Arh", the "circle jerk". > When Kern was younger, he'd thought it was >disgusting behavior for a warrior to be fawning over pictures of >cutely dressed young children. TOM: The Klingon equivalent of the FBI, however, objected to his alternative, and confiscated Kern's computer. > An aid interrupted his reminiscing, "Chancellor Kern, the Council >is waiting." > He grunted his acknowledgment and turned toward the council >chambers. ALL: [singing] To everything, turn, Kern, turn... > Today was the day the representatives of the Romulans and >the Federation would arrive. Soon the Empire would war with one of >them along side the other. MIKE: [gruff] Commas and clear referents are not the way of a true Klingon warrior! > He hoped he would not have to fight his >brother, or attack little Alexis Rozhenko's home. CROW: 'Cause he knew Alexis would kick his scaly Klingon butt. >Four days earlier MIKE: This story has become... unstuck in time! > > Captain Jay Gordon, was not in the best mood. He'd just heard >that his wife was planning to go on another dangerous mission. TOM: Worse, she was planning to return! > She >was in command of Star Fleet. She wasn't supposed to be running into >danger. CROW: Harvey Danger? MIKE: Dirk Dangerous? TOM: Dangermouse? > As he entered his wife's ready room, she looked up from her >seat. MIKE: Those new rectal-ocular implants were coming in very handy. > Normally Marrrissa would have gotten up when he entered like >this and pace while trying to explain herself. CROW: But, you know, she was still sore from the implants. > Normally she wasn't >eight and a half months pregnant. TOM: Still, given Marrissa's apparent attitude toward's contraception, I wouldn't be surprised if it was all that abnormal either. > "You are not running off on some foolish mission to the Klingon >Empire," he said, standing in front of his wife's desk, his hands >braced on its front edge. CROW: Jay, subconsciously acknowledging his intellectual inferiority, adopts one of Brak's poses. > "Oh," Marrissa said, sorting out the PADDs on her desk. CROW: Wait. She's eight months pregnant. Why would she need... oh. Nevermind. MIKE: [chuckling] New Stargazers with wings? > "You are commanding Star Fleet," Jay responded. "You can't be >running around tending to every little detail." TOM: Crushing every little peasant uprising... > "The High Council's debate on which side they will enter the war >on is hardly a little detail," Marrissa replied. "They've got the >third largest fleet in the Quadrant. MIKE: Here's a little tip, Marrissa. Never let your husband know that you're well-acquainted with the size of Klingon "fleets". > Their entry into the war could >tip the balance either way." > "Surely you can send someone else," Jay stated. CROW: Look, Jay. I'm in charge here. You're not. And call me Shirley again and it's off to Rura Pente with you. > "They're aren't that many people in the fleet that command >respect with Klingons," Marrissa began. TOM: And most of those are in the musical theater. > "My father, who is still >recovering from injuries; Alexander and Worf don't have enough rank to >make an impression; CROW: You kuow how Klingons make a good impression, don't you? They use their heads! Heh. TOM: Kill him. > and Rear Admiral Zaxdorn who spent the last four >year heading our joint training program died yesterday." CROW: [Marrissa] And before you even ask, little mister, I was parsecs away when it happened. > "Send Alex, he's more available than you are," Jay replied. >"You're due in two weeks." TOM: So, Marrissa is Jay's senior research project? MIKE: It'd explain a lot, wouldn't it? > "I though this was your professional objections," Marrissa said, >easing herself up from her chair. She walked around the desk to stand >beside her husband. "I have to do this Jay. CROW: [Marrissa] Of all the Jays in the Federation, this is the one I have to do. > This is one case where >no one else can do it for me." > "I know," Jay responded, knowing from her bearing that this was a >lost cause and now attempting to reduce the danger. TOM: Having attempted, no matter how ineffectually, to thwart Marrissa's wishes, Jay prepared himself for the inevitable reprisal. > "I just hate to >see you go off into trouble." He embraced his wife, pulling her close >as her belly would allow. MIKE: Honey, are you sure you're really "eating for five"? > "Who says you aren't coming with me?" Marrissa returned. TOM: [Jay] Um, that was you, on our wedding night, wasn't it? > "Well we can't afford to take a Nova Class starship off the line. >I've seen the reports," Jay said. > "And that keeps you from joining me?" MIKE: Well, that plus raw cowardice. > "Well someone has to command the Enterprise. Clara certainly >can't. Alexis hasn't let her sleep since she was born last week. TOM: This Kids Crew is getting out of hand. Now Marrissa's considering putting a newborn in charge! > And >Alex isn't in much better shape." > "I've got that taken care of," Marrissa smiled. CROW: The new Kids Crew Fat Farm is fully operational. > > Deep in Engineering, down under the port plasma transfer conduit, >a terminal was being used, as it never had been intended to. ALL: [clear throats uncomfortably] > Its user >tapped a long string of codes, and information flowed across the >screen towards a destination that no crewmember should have sent >anything other than phaser bolts. MIKE: Ah, the Wisconsin Dells. > > Jacqueline Marie Picard was working at the computer terminal in >the room she shared with her sister's sister-in-law. TOM: Little sister's sister-in-law, don't you do what your big sister's sister-in-law doessssss... > She'd >technically been off shift for hours, but that never stopped her from >improving the Enterprise Computer's defenses. CROW: Now, the Enterprise's computers spray a foul-smelling liquid from their back end when threatened. > It was a good thing the Computer Security Officer had been at >work. If she hadn't been, the security breach might not have been >caught. As Jackie watched and recorded, the intruder patched up all >the evidence that they had been into the classified data. MIKE: She thought about doing something about it, but technically, she was off duty. > She'd >initiated a trace the moment she'd discovered it, but it wasn't until >two minutes after the hacker logged off that she'd figured out where >they had been working. TOM: They're contacting the Wisconsin Dells! They must be stopped! > A call to Lieutenant Sachs had sent a security team to >investigate, but Jackie knew it was too late. It only remained for >her to inform the Captain. MIKE: And receive her duly meted out punishment. > Her big sister was not going to like this. >And it meant that Jackie would be unable to accompany her to Kronos. TOM: Jackie was a big fan of classical quartets. >Jackie had been looking forward to it for the past couple days, but >now she had something important she had to do. > > Admiral Saavik Jeric entered the bridge of her new ship, her >personal bodyguard, Tillek at her side. CROW: That's a pretty unwieldy name for a ship. TOM: Maybe it's a lot shorter in Romulan. > The Bloodfire was the second >Warhawk class starship the Romulans had produced. MIKE: Warhawk II: Bloodfire. Coming to Playstation this Christmas. > It was just >completed, and Saavik wanted to take it right out into battle. CROW: She was gonna take out Kirstie Alley once and for all! MIKE: This isn't that Saavik, Crow. I think it's an hommage. TOM: An hommage du frommage, if you will. > The >Warhawk had some success already, but an encounter with the Nova and >the Yorktown had forced it to retire from the front for repairs. TOM: But it did get a lovely gold chronometer from the rest of the fleet. >Apparently, Admiral Pasek did not know when to chose his battles. He >did know when to save his own skin at least. CROW: He did not know when to hold them, but he did know when to fold them. > Saavik had studied the martial history of her enemies, especially >that of the Enterprise. She wasn't alone in doing this. TOM: Her and her friends started a spunky club, even. > The Romulan >Naval Academy had a special class in studying the tactics of the >Enterprise and all of her commanders. MIKE: Oh, great. On top of gverything else, Marrissa's become curriculum! > Saavik, however, went further. >She studied back to the naval vessels Enterprise. But it wasn't the >Enterprise that she though her counterparts should have studied. It >was the USS Constitution, a ship still moored in Boston harbor. CROW: By studying the tactics of stationary, retired, ancient floating vessels, Saavik would provide Marrissa with the easy victory that is her due. > The >sailing ship had never been defeated, as a result of sound tactics >on the part of her commanders. The key was to know what you could >safely take. MIKE: In this case, that'd be "refuge hiding in your home port". > The Warhawk class was the equal to the Federation's Nova class. >So Pasek had really been asking for it when he attacked two Nova class >ships without any assistance. TOM: I mean, look at the way he was dressed! > Two to one could be in favor of the one >every once in a while, but not when each of the two starships alone >was of equal strength to the one. TOM: So, the fleets of the many outweigh the fleets of the two? CROW: Or the one. > Saavik didn't care if the Captains >of the two ships where of lesser quality. They'd made it to command >the best ships in the Federation's Star Fleet. CROW: They were movin' on up, to that deluxe starship in the sky. > They could handle >their ships better than Captains who received their posts at the >request of the Praetor; who had no real knowledge of what it took to >command; could. MIKE: You know, using semicolons like that is illegal in 49 states. CROW: [John Henson] Sorry, Virginia! > If she hadn't been the Praetor's youngest sister, she >wouldn't have been in this post either, but the difference was that >she could command. TOM: If an infinite number of nepotists hire an infinite number of relatives, eventually, one of them will be Shakespeare. > The Bridge of the Bloodfire was larger than that of her last >command. In some ways it reminder her of pictures of the Federation's >Galaxy Class starship bridge. CROW: Thereby putting the minimum load on the reader's imagination. > The command chair was a high-backed >chair that could face any part of the bridge. It was done in dark >green leather with thick armrests. The rest of the bridge took its >cue from that chair. MIKE: Leading into a show-stopping musical number! > The other chairs were shorter, but adorned in >the same manner. The bridge rails were green marble, and the >traditional warbird crest was inlaid by the turbolift in the same >marble. TOM: Any questions about other intricate details of Romulan interior decorating can be mailed directly to Stephen. > "The Praetor and the Senate have sent me to command this vessel," >Saavik announced. "I serve the Empire, and this vessel is mine. Is >the crew so loyal." > The bridge crew replied, "Jolan true." MIKE: Which is a Romulan phrase meaning "humor the Captain". > "Then I will expect your loyalty until death parts us," Saavik >concluded. "Bridge Officer, our orders please." CROW: OK, who had the plomeek soup? > A Commander that Saavik identified as Sanok, approached with an >ornate green marble box with a finger print lock. TOM: The Romulans have quite the green marble fetish, don't they? CROW: Well, it sets off their eyes so nicely. > That alone told her >that her mission was important. Only for important missions were >orders hand delivered. She pressed her finger on the lock and it >opened to reveal a single sheet of parchment. TOM: Work at home! MIKE: Make money fa$t! CROW: On Earth, they would've just left it under her windshield wiper. > She read it carefully. >With a sigh she ordered, "Helm, set a course for Kronos, avoiding the >Federation front. Depart when ready. > >Chapter Two MIKE: Second verse, same as the first! > > The Ambassador Class Starship Osaka decelerated from warp off the >port bow of the Enterprise. She was a newer member of the class to >which the fourth Enterprise had been of, and recently upgraded at >that. TOM: By hooking this turbine to the coffins of Strunk and White, we're now able to power Cleveland with this sentence. > She and her captain had been a very successful part of Star >Fleet's First Fleet. Marrissa observed its arrival from the >Enterprise's command chair, a seat she'd been spending less time in >lately. CROW: [Marrissa] Stupid Board of Inquiry hearings! > Running Star Fleet was taking a lot of her time. TOM: At this rate, Marrissa should be going through the "Captain Kirk Desk Job Crisis" around age 29. > "The Osaka's Captain has beamed aboard and is on her way to the >Bridge," Lieutenant Shayna Sachs said from her post at tactical. > "Has their been any luck tracking down our spy?" the Admiral >asked. > "No, Captain," the Security Chief replied. "I've eliminated a >lot of people, but we've still got half of Engineering as suspects." CROW: And the body count rises... MIKE: Maybe "shoot first and ask questions later" isn't the best way to conduct an espionage investigation. > "Well it won't be my concern for a while," Marrissa said, as an >Asian woman in Star Fleet Uniform with Captain's pips entered the >bridge from the forward turbolift. > "Captain Demora Sulu reporting as ordered, sir," the woman said, >standing at full attention. CROW: How cold -is- it on the bridge? MIKE: That's Sulu's daughter, Crow. Show a little respect. > "At ease," Marrissa replied, uncomfortable with the formality. >"Welcome aboard the Enterprise." > "Thank you, sir," Sulu said. > "Drop the formality, Commodore," Marrissa responded. "We've >known each other too long for it." > "Commodore?" > "I'm promoting you as of now," Admiral Marrissa Picard said. MIKE: As the daughter of a famous, on-screen character, rapid promotion is your God-given right. >"For the next two weeks you are taking my place as Captain of the >Enterprise and Commander of the First Fleet." > "Why?" > "Jay and I need to convince the Klingon High Council not to come >in on the Romulan side," Marrissa stated. TOM: We're going to tell them that Romulans have cooties. > "Since we can not afford to >take a Nova Class Starship off the line, we will be borrowing your >ship. Meanwhile, you'll be seeing if a change in command can sow some >confusion among the Romulan Fleet." MIKE: Yep. Just knowing Marrissa's gone will make the entire Romulan fleet all higgledy-piggledy. > "Understood," Commodore Sulu replied. "What happens when they >decide?" > "If they go for the Romulans, the First, Fourth, and Fifteenth >fleets move to cover the Klingon border," Marrissa explained. CROW: The remaining fleets move to cover my butt. >"Admiral Sisko will take over command of the Romulan side of the war >then. If the Klingons join us, as I suspect they will, the Romulans >will probably try to make an immediate plunge into Klingon space, TOM: In fact, I believe it will be a Nestea plunge. >hoping that they will be caught unaware. I want you to come up with a >counter for that possibility." MIKE: A +1/+1 counter? TOM: No, I think she means some Formica to set the possibility on. > "I'll do my best," Sulu said. > "That being done, Computer, recognize Picard, Marrissa Amber, >level Omega Five, code Pulpier CROW: How Marrissa likes her strawberry juice? > Taylor TOM: For Jonathan Taylor Thomas, of course... > David MIKE: For hunky David Boreanaz, the tortured yet oh-so-cute Angel... > Hercules," CROW: Sorbo, Reeves, Disney or Marvel? You make the call! > Marrissa >ordered. "Transfer Command of the Enterprise to Commodore Demora >Sulu." > "The Enterprise NCC-1701-F is now under the command of Commodore >Demora Sulu," the Computer responded. TOM: [Computer] Self-destruct initiated. > "Transfer command of the First Fleet to her as well," Marrissa >concluded. > "The First Fleet is now under command of Commodore Demora Sulu," >the computer finished. MIKE: [Marrissa] You didn't say "Marrissa Sez". > "Before you leave, perhaps an introduction of my new officers >would be in order," Demora asked. ALL: [sigh] MIKE: Still, gotta give him credit. A whole chapter and a half before the first official grand introduction scene. > "Excellent idea," Marrissa replied. "At Ops is your new First >Officer, Lieutenant Commander Alexander Rozhenko. Behind me at >Tactical is your Chief of Security and Second Officer, Lieutenant >Shayna Sachs. Your Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Miles O'Brien >is currently holed away in Engineering. I'd advise not calling him by >his rank though. TOM: He prefers "Hey, grumpypants!" > The Chief is a little peeved at me for reactivating >his commission before he could retire as a Chief Petty Officer. CROW: I thought Marrissa was the chief petty officer. TOM: No, Crow, that's an actual rank. > The >officer trying to sneak onto the bridge from the Fighter Command >Situation Room is your Fighter Commander, Lieutenant Commander >Katherine Lochard. CROW: She's a ninja! > Alex is still looking for his sub in the Ops >position. MIKE: He should try looking for his sub in the ocean. TOM: You sunk my Battleship! > Doctor Johnson is still busy from our last engagement, as >is Counselor Sussex." > "Understood," Demora stated. "Who will be my Exec for the First >Fleet?" TOM: That would be Captain Toonces. > "The Captain of the Excelsior," Marrissa said a twinkle in her >eye. > "You made my Dad my XO for the Fleet?" Demora Sulu replied. "Are >you out of your mind. He'll be second guessing me all the way to >Romulus." MIKE: It's like having your parents drive you to the prom, except with lots more killing. > "So he said," Marrissa replied. "Enjoy. I'll see you in two or >three weeks. Jay should relieve you in two, but I can't guarantee >that Doctor Johnson will let me out by then." CROW: Ah. Doctor Johnson must be the treaty negotiator. TOM: He learned from the master. > Demora Sulu looked up at the ceiling as Admiral Marrissa Picard >exited the bridge. "Is they're anything else that I should have known >this morning?" she asked the ceiling. MIKE: Ceiling, ceiling, on the wall... > "Actually, yes," Lieutenant Sachs replied. "We've got a Computer >Hacker and spy aboard." CROW: [Sulu] I assumed we had a computer. Do you think the hacker and the spy are working together? > "The Ready Room, now," Commodore Sulu said. "Have the Computer >Security Officer and the Chief Engineer report there. "You have the >bridge, Commander Rozhenko." TOM: Are you safe Ms. Rozhenko? Ms. Rozhenko are you safe? > Lieutenant Sachs followed the Commodore into the Ready Room. The >Commodore turned once the door closed, and said. "Lieutenant, I don't >know were you learned how to be a Security Officer, but you don't >blurt out that stuff on the bridge." CROW: I mean, what was that stuff? Looked like green pancake batter with lumps. > Shayna Sachs straightened out and said, "Normally, I wouldn't >sir. But all of the people on the Bridge had been cleared already." MIKE: She shook 'em like an Etch-A-Sketch. > "Very well, but remember that secrecy is one of your best weapons >when dealing with spies and saboteurs," Sulu said. TOM: Surprise, secrecy... ALL: And an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope. > "Understood, Commodore," Lieutenant Sachs responded. > Moments later, the door opened to reveal the Chief Engineer, >Miles O'Brien, and a strawberry blond haired twelve year old girl. TOM: Two of these three phrases refer to the same person. Can -you- guess which two? >The years had been good to the chief. His hair was white at the >temples, but otherwise he looked like he had a fifteen years before >when he had left the Enterprise for Deep Space Nine. TOM: The Picture of Dorian Meaney. > The girl was >saying, "I still think we should restrict access to the warp field >geometry control." MIKE: People keep putting the square particles into the round conduits. > "You do that, and a fourth of my officers won't be able to do >their jobs," O'Brien said. "That's a vital control for warp field >engineers." CROW: How do you expect them to play Tempest without a paddle? > "All the more reason to restrict it," the girl responded. > "You must be the Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander O'Brien," >Demora Sulu interrupted. > "Call me Chief, sir," O'Brien responded. TOM: [Sulu] And you can call me McCloud. > "This is Ensign >Jacqueline Picard, our Computer Security Officer." > "Ensign Picard, pardon me for saying it, but your not exactly >what I expect in your post," Sulu responded, carefully looking at the >young officer. MIKE: Blatant discrimination against the non-potty-trained. So much for Utopia. > "Family trait, sir," Jackie responded. "We Picards tend not to >be what people expect us to be, at least until you get to know us." CROW: ... at which point we suddenly age 15 years, thereby meeting their expectations. > "I certainly didn't expect a child as an officer in such a >position," Demora said. TOM: She don't know Steve vewy well, do she? > "In any case, what is going on with the >hacker." > "Late last night, I was updating the security on the computer >when a hacker got into the strategic database," MIKE: And captured my lieutenant. TOM: STRATEEEEEGOOOOOO! > Jackie explained. >"They stole the planned movements for the First and Second Fleets and >transmitted them off to Romulus. I tracked down their location, and >notified Lieutenant Sachs." > "By the time my officers got there, they were gone," Sachs >continued. CROW: It wuz too late. Ethel'd already been mooned. > "Jackie and I woke up Marrissa and Jay, and began an >investigation." MIKE: We learned that Jay still sleeps with his woobie, sir. > "My sister also changed all the fleet movements, and suggests >that you make additional changes," Jackie finished. > "Do we still have the originals I may need them," Sulu said. TOM: In case I feel like leading the fleet into a Romulan ambush, just for kicks. >Jackie nodded. "Good, how much have you narrowed down the suspects >too." > "We've got it down to 200 officers, sir," O'Brien said. CROW: Which is odd, since our crew complement is only 175. >"Interviews will probably cut that number down significantly, but that >takes time." MIKE: So we just had all 200 shot. > "And during that time, more data can be stolen," Jackie pointed >out. > "Miss Picard, can you try looking for an access pattern that may >provide us will a profile of our hacker?" the Commodore asked. > "I can try, sir," Jackie responded. MIKE: [Jackie, muttering] Even though its a stupid idea, stupidhead. > "Good," Sulu concluded. "I want that hacker found. Get any help >you need, but get them caught. Dismissed." CROW: Hell, get them caught AND dismissed. > > Admiral Saavik was going to Kronos. She'd never dealt with >Klingons before, but that didn't matter to her government. She fit >their qualifications. She was an Admiral. She was related to the >Praetor, TOM: And she had huge... tracts of land. MIKE: OK, Tom Palin, I think it's time for a break. [Door Sequence] SOL Bridge. Servo and Crow are struggling in the center of the desk, pushing against each other. Neither appears to be making much headway. Mike enters from offscreen, munching on a bag of chips. CROW: Ah, Mike is here! Ugh! Let's take a break. TOM: OK... [bots stop struggling] MIKE: What's goin' on? CROW: You see, Tom and I have moved into a stage of even advantages. TOM: Yep, pretty much. The First Robot War is at a stalemate. MIKE: When did you declare war on each other? TOM: Just after lunch. I think Crow assassinated my archduke or something. Anyway, that's not important. CROW: Right. You see, even when all things are equal, the potential for something... or SOMEONE, wink wink, to choose sides and tip the balance remains. TOM: Exactly. The question is, which side will you come in on? MIKE: Me? Why do I have to get involved? CROW: Isn't it obvious? The humans are a great warrior race, full of bloodlust! You could no more resist a war than, say, I could resist a Kim Catrall spread in Playboy. TOM: I don't think you should choose Crow, Mike. I think there's been too much contact between the two of you, and something to counter- balance that is needed. CROW: Yes, but you and Tom are historical enemies! MIKE: No, we're not! CROW: Didn't he whup your hinder at Scrabble last night? MIKE: Hmm... you have a point... TOM: Look, Mike. Whichever side you join will win. It's a near- certainty. It only remains to see which of us will return you to the glory of battle. MIKE: Maybe later, guys. I'm kind of full from lunch and these chips. And anyway, WE'VE GOT MARRISSA SIIIIIIGN! [Door Sequence] TOM: I hate even advantages. MIKE: Hush. The story's starting up again. So. Saavik was related to the Praetor... > and with those qualities, Romulan High Command believed that >her presence would convey the seriousness of the Romulan's interest. MIKE: At the same time, her floppy, red clown shoes would convey a sense of playful whimsy. >It was a good idea but the Federation was already one upping that >message. CROW: With rainbow Afro wigs for everyone! > >Klingon High Council Chambers >Stardate 61813.3 ALL: Tuesday. > > Kern was seated in the Chancellor's throne, awaiting the arrival >the Romulan and Federation representatives. He hoped they had sent >someone interesting. MIKE: Kern's setting himself up for major disappointment here. > The last Romulan and Federation Ambassadors had >both been meek and somewhat dry. Klingons preferred fiery >negotiators. TOM: He wanted to kick the negotiators up a notch! MIKE: BAM! > The first person to stroll into the chambers was the Federation >Representive. Kern smiled at the blond woman whose pregnant form was >stretching the Star Fleet uniform. A blond man was at her side, a >broad sword strapped opposite his phaser. MIKE: Looks like Jay fights for the Middle Kingdom. > "Who comes before the >Klingon High Council?" the Chancellor challenged. > "Marrissa Amber Picard, daughter of Jean-Luc, Commanding Admiral >of Star Fleet, Captain of the Starship Enterprise," Marrissa began. >"Heir to the Planet Essex, winner of the battle of Neptune, hero of >the Seventh Fleet, TOM: Partridge of the Pear Tree, MIKE: Occasional Reader of Dilbert, CROW: Beater of Panzer Dragoon Saga IV, > and I say that any one who doesn't think that >allying with the Federation is good idea is a yellow bellied coward >who should go home crying to his mother." CROW: You know, impending motherhood has really tempered Marrissa's negotiation skills. > "And why should we listen to someone who comes with a >babysitter," Kartog, a young member of the council sneered. "You're >just a Federation pla'tok." TOM: Pla'tok? CROW: Klingon for "coward of the county." > "I suggest you consider withdrawing that insult," Jay said, >drawing his sword. MIKE: I take it back. He's an illuminator for the Middle Kingdom. > "Why should I?" Kartog said. > Kern watched from his seat. He really should have made sure >Emperor Kah'Less attended today. It was going to be a good show. MIKE: In the old-a days, we used ta have-a dis ting called-a vaudeville. > Jay made a quick slash in front of Kartog, and said, "Because >your pants are falling down." > Kartog looked down to discover that his pants sliding down to his >ankles. CROW: Oh, Jay, you nutty funster. TOM: How would you pants a Klingon anyway? Aren't they usually wearing lots of tight leather and armor? > This was his first day on the council. This was not what he >dreamed about. He'd expected to be discussing battles and affairs of >state. Instead everyone was staring at his uncovered bottom. CROW: Even the people in front of him? MIKE: Great. Jay manages to pants the one Klingon who finds underwear "too restricting". > "I challenge you to a duel," Kartog shouted, pulling up his >pants. ALL: THANK YOU. TOM: I wonder if Kartog's parents were big map freaks. > "Not now, we have some important manners to discuss," Jay >replied. > "Understood," Kartog said, trying to recover the remains of his >dignity. CROW: And nothing shows Klingons you've got dignity like backing down from a matter of honor. > "Where is the Romulan?" Kern asked from his throne, still amused >at the young Kartog's display. MIKE: We're learning a lot more about Kern than we really wanted to know. > "Here," Admiral Saavik said, entering the hall. > "And who are you?" Kern asked. > "I am Admiral Saavik Jeric," the Romulan said. "I come to >persuade the Empire to join the Romulan Star Empire in our war against >the Federation, or at least stay out of it." MIKE: A good negotiator always reveals her fallback position in her opening remarks. > "And why should we listen to you?" Kern asked. > "I am the Romulan representative," Saavik stated. "I was sent by >my brother, Praetor Selic, the leader of the Romulan Star Empire. I >think that entitles me to be heard." CROW: No, that entitles cows to be herd. It entitles you to be thrown out on your ass. > "And what battles have you won," Kern asked. "What enemies have >you vanquished?" TOM: Well, I finished Spyro the Dragon last week... > "I defeated Admiral Yawetag of the Renegade Trakce with in a >damaged Warbird," Saavik began slowly, and uncertain. CROW: Ah, her unfamiliarity with backwards names will be her undoing. TOM: At least we know what brand of computer this was typed on. > "I destroyed >the Zacdorn spypost in the Ne'vek system." She began to catch a >rhythm. MIKE: Yes, it's DJ Saavik, with her hip hop smash, "My Victorious Battles". > "The starship Harriman met its demise against my Warbird. >The Federation's First Fleet lost at Star Forts 5, 7, and 13 to my >fleet. The Federation's Fifth Fleet was decimated after I stopped by >Starbase 4." CROW: The Feds probably had stupid adults in command. > "Ah, so you are a warrior, not some mindless bureaucrat, like we >have come to expect from past Romulan Ambassadors," Kern said >appreciatively. MIKE: Ambassador D'l Buurtt's head is still on a pike in front of the Imperial Palace. > "Enough of that, you must be tired from you long >journey, and even Klingon warriors know better than to keep a pregnant >woman on her feet. We'll adjourn until after lunch. MIKE: Some mighty warrior race. Talk for ten minutes, then break for lunch. > Then first the >Federation then the Romulans will have a chance to present their cases >without interference of each other. CROW: So, there'll be none of Marrissa's "nanny nanny boo boo" technique. > Counselor Kartog, my office." > Kern descended from the dais and the meeting broke up. TOM: ...when his pants fell down too! CROW: It's the kookiest High Council ever! > >Chapter Three > > Marrissa was laying back on a recliner with her feet in the air. CROW: Are you guys thinking what I'm thinking? MIKE: Thank God for Stephen's religious background? CROW: Got it in one. >Her husband Jay was massaging them while the two relaxed for a couple >hours. TOM: Say what you will about Jay, but the man's got hands of steel. > Jay's sister Jacquelyn was making lunch in the next room and >the smells of a home cooked meal drifted into the room. MIKE: I wonder what Klingon smoke detectors sound like? > "How do you think I did," Marrissa asked after some time of >silence. CROW: [Jay] Wonderful, dear. Tomorrow you can try shutting up for -two- minutes. > "I think you wowed them as usual, Mara," Jay replied. "I don't >know why you are always so worried. You are doing the best job anyone >could." TOM: "I Married A Sycophant". Tonight on Springer. > "I try, but what happens when it's finally not enough, Jay," >Marrissa replied. TOM: Oh boy. Here we go. CROW: Strap yourselves in for the Great Cosmic Balancing. > "I'm commanding Star Fleet, commanding a starship, >negotiating with Klingons, and to top it all off, I'm going to be a >mother in a couple weeks. MIKE: She brings home the bacon, fries it up in a pan... CROW: And never ever lets Jay forget he's a completely emasculated "man"... > Eventually, something will happen that I >have no control over and should have." MIKE: [Marrissa] Like my bladder, or my homicidal rage. > "Marrissa, as things are there are things you have no control >over," Jay responded. CROW: So far. > "You just have to learn to take into account >that and try not to spread yourself so thin." TOM: Ooh. Faux pas. MIKE: Yeah. Never use that phrase around anyone that pregnant > "I know," Marrissa replied. "I'd really like to take some time >off, and get rid of some of these duties, MIKE: Specifically, spousal duties. > but every time I think I can >do something like that, something happens. I use to have some control >of my life. Since I was ten, I knew where I was going and how I was >going to get there. MIKE: When I was ten, I wanted to either be a fireman, or Batman. TOM: Well, to be fair, you and Marrissa pretty much define the achiever continuum. > Then I got there and I haven't known what I >wanted to do next since." TOM: If it weren't for the mysterious Virginian guiding her destiny, she'd be at her wit's end! > "And when did you meet the goal that you've been working so hard >on," Jay asked, curious. > Marrissa smiled and said, "When I married you." ALL: BOOOOOOO! TOM: Running Starfleet's all well and good, but what this dame likes best is marraige! CROW: Notice, in this scene, Marrissa's barefoot and preqnant? > Jay smiled in return, and moved to sit on the side of his wife's >recliner. "I find it hard to believe that you've done everything just >so you could marry me." MIKE: -Especially- me. > "Not all," Marrissa responded. "Since I was little I wanted to >grow up to command a starship with a handsome young first officer at >my side. We'd have many adventures and a half-dozen children. CROW: Half-dozen? TOM: Ratliff's channeling the ghost of Heinlein. > Though >if I had known how hard pregnancy was, I would have revised the last." > "So I shouldn't expect six screaming children running though our >quarters any time soon," Jay questioned, his hand on his wife's belly. MIKE: Guess it'll be up to little Fetus Amber Flores Picard Jr. to carry on the legacy solo. > "Not unless you have them," Marrissa replied, her hand now >guiding his on her belly. "Our little Sara's active today." CROW: Either they've already named the kid, or, again, we're learning more about Jay than we need to. > "She wants out of her swimming pool," Jay joked. MIKE: Isn't the third trimester a wee bit early for diving lessons? > "Now is not a good time," Marrissa said. "I can just see it. I'm >standing before the High Council. They're just about to announce >their decision, and my water breaks. TOM: More of Jay's fancy swordsmanship, no doubt. > Sara better stay in there until >after they decide." MIKE: If she knows what's good for her. > > Saavik paced in her ready room. Her boots clicking on the green >marble floor. CROW: I prefer a Biq Blue Marble floor, myself. > She had to send a report back to her older bother and >didn't know what to say. TOM: Since, other than a few sentences. nothing's actually happened so far. > The door chimed. "Who is it?" she snapped. > "Centurion Tillek," a deep baritone responded. MIKE: He's the Romulan Bowser. > "Enter," she said. Centurion Tillek had been her personal >bodyguard since she was ten. The burley old man had saved her life on >more than one occasion. CROW: Mostly stuff like keeping her from crossing the street, helping her down the stairs... > He was also her only confidant. As a member >of the Praetor's Guard, he was sworn to keep secret anything that his >changes did. TOM: So, he's either menopausal, constantly revisinq things, or in charge of the Praetorian nursery. > In a climate of suspicion like that of the Romulan >Government, people did not often trust. Saavik trusted Tillek. He >knew a lot about her, and he never told anyone. MIKE: Mainly because his drinking buddies got sick and tired of his stupid Saavik stories. > He was a dying breed >on Romulus. > "Commander Sanok said you were distrait," Tillek said. CROW: He also said you were delicious, delightful, and delovely. > "Yes, Uncle Tillek," Saavik replied. MIKE: Looks like the Romulans are adapting Federation nepotism techniques, big-time. > "I was trying so hard to >act professional and keep my temper, but once the Chancellor started >asking why, I started to lose it. I was actually boasting of my >accomplishments. TOM: I never should have brought up my euchre championship. > You're not supposed to make people feel inferior. >You have to keep your accomplishments quiet and let others discover >them." CROW: Hey. it worked for Our Humble Author. TOM: If Dr. F hadn't discovered Stephen's "accomplishments", we wouldn't be here now. MIKE: Race you to the time machine. > "Little cat, you've never dealt with Klingons before have you," >Tillek remarked. CROW: Little cat? TOM: For the remainder of the fanfic, Saavik will be voiced by the late Phil Hartman. > Saavik shook her head and stopped pacing. "I >thought not. Saavik, with Klingons, the boast is a good way to earn >their respect. MIKE: Right up there with head butts. drinking contests, and pantsing. > Tell me, you were watching Admiral Picard make her >entrance. She's dealt with Klingons almost all her life. How did she >do it." CROW: [Saavik] So you're saying I should get pregnant? > "She drew herself up straight, or as straight as she could in her >condition," Saavik described. "She walked, no she strolled into the >room like she owned it. MIKE: Well, this is Marrissa. She probably will own it by the end of the next story. > She bellowed out her titles and >accomplishments and challenged them to disagree with her. CROW: Big deal. That's how she opens every staff meeting. > One Council >member challenged her and her husband, and they embarrassed him by >making his pants drop." TOM: [Tillek] OK, that's not a great idea to emulate, but the rest is good. > "That must have been interesting," Tillek smiled. > "I barely contained my laughter," Saavik confirmed. CROW: I hear they've started calling him "Chancellor Tiny" > "And how did you make your entrance," Tillek asked. MIKE: Flash pots and a kickin' bass line. > "Not good," Saavik said. "I came in at a dignified pace and said >my speech in a calm tone. CROW: My first sentence took 20 minutes. > I explained our position in a calm manner. >It wasn't until the Chancellor asked why he should listen to me that I >got into what you said the Klingons would respond to." TOM: The bribery, the spankings... CROW: And after the spankings, the oral... MIKE: Lets not go there. CROW: What? It's not that dirty. MIKE: I mean Holy Grail jokes. > "That may still work to your advantage, Saavik. That you were >able to stay calm says a lot about you. I suggest you adopt 'soul of >ice' as your plan." TOM: Be as cold as ice. Be willing to sacrifice your love. > "What about playing to the Klingon sensibilities." CROW: That's an odd phrase. > "Admiral Picard is already doing that. You can not compete with >her long experience with Klingons. CROW: If you know what I mean. TOM: And I think you do. > Her cousin is even married to the >Chancellor's nephew. So try a different tact." MIKE: Tact? Klingons need tact like fish need bicycles. TOM: Ze homophone iss ze Ratliff's vurst enemy. Zee how hiss spellchecker iss helpless to prevent ze homophone vrom pouncink. > "That sounds reasonable," Admiral Saavik mused, taking her seat >behind the desk for the first time. "I just hope you're up to a >little sword fighting. MIKE: Because, frankly, all your reasonableness is starting to piss me off. > I'm going to need something to drain of all >the tensions that are going to occur in the next couple of days." > "Always, Princess, always." TOM: With her uncle? Saavik must be from south of the Romulus-Remus line. > > In Jacqueline Marie Picard's quarters, the Computer Security >Officer was typing up a storm, implementing new security measures. CROW: And giving Climate Control fits. >The room was not what you'd expect from the daughter of a Star Fleet >Officer, in particular, the daughter of the Commanding Admiral >Starfleet. TOM: No trophies, no medals, no Kobayashi Maru collectable card games... > Her bed was unmade, and had a dirty uniform tossed on top >of it. Several pairs of socks and one pair of boots were strewn >across the room. Her work area was cluttered with ROM chips. CROW: Mmmm. ROM Chips. TOM: She gets the good stuff, nothing like the generic-brand RAMchips you feed us, Mike. CROW: She's my new favorite character. > A bowl >of stale corn chips was to the right side of the desk and a half-empty >glass of flat grape soda stood beside it. MIKE: Magnificent! The reader feels like they actually -are- a snack on Jackie's desk. > In short, ALL: TOO LATE! > it was a mess. The young ensign hadn't gotten any >sleep in almost two days. CROW: And Jackie was pretty tired, too. Wink. > Her eyes had circles around them, TOM: Victim of the old "shoe polish on the tricorder" gag. > and she >was beginning to mutter her thinking. "Seventy-four suspects, that's >really narrowed down. CROW: But still too many for her bowling team. > There has to be a way to catch the hacker. >Well they aren't getting anymore data from the classifies if I can >help it." MIKE: Yep. Good luck buying a used dishwasher when Jackie Picard's on the case! > Jackie had done everything she could think of to keep the >hacker from getting any more classified data. TOM: She stored it all on her old Amiga hard drive. It now was storied on a >new server which could only be accessed from three stations on the >bridge, the ready room, her sister's, Commodore Sulu's and her own >quarters, plus a VIP quarters located directly below her sister's >rooms. MIKE: Where any of the ship's guests could read it to help them sleep. > Of course that meant that the Hacker would have to find the >new location first, and the Hacker hadn't seemed to have done that >yet. TOM: Why would the hacker need a new location? The Enterprise's crack security team hasn't found 'em yet. > "Commodore Sulu to Ensign Picard," a woman's voice announced over >Jackie's communicator. > "Jac-, Picard here," Jackie replied, remembering that she was now >the only Picard on board. CROW: Picard, any card. TOM: Is THIS your Picard? > "Sorry, I don't have any more information >on our hacker, Commodore." MIKE: She's been too busy trying to find the enemy's hacker. > "That's not what I'm calling about, Ensign," Sulu said. "I've >just been informed that your father will be arriving tomorrow >afternoon. I thought you might want to know." TOM: What a relief. The Picard shortage on the Enterprise was bordering on chronic. > "Thank you, Commodore," Jackie said, looking at the mess she'd >made in the five days since her older sister, Marrissa, and her >roommate Lynn had left for Kronos. CROW: Wait, I'm confused. TOM: It's simple, really. Jacqueline and Jacquelynn are roommates and sisters-in-law. Jacquelynn is Jay's sister, and Jacqueline is Marrissa's sister. Jacqueline misses Jacquelynn, because Jacquelynn is on Kronos with her sister or her sister-in-law, depending on how you parse the pronoun. CROW: I feel so much better now. MIKE: We now return you to our regularly scheduled Ratliff story. > "I'll let you know if I find >anything more about our hacker." > "Very well, Sulu out." CROW: SULU!!!! I'M TALKING WITH SULU!!!! > Her door rang. "Come," Jackie said, moving to clean up some of >the mess. ALL: [clear throats nervously] > Clara Sutter entered. Her eyes had circles under them, telling >how much her newborn daughter had been keeping her up. MIKE: In the future, everyone will have face-mounted LCD displays. > She scanned the >room, with an amused expression on her face. "I figured someone >should be checking on you, Jackie," Clara said. "This room is a mess, >although I shouldn't be speaking as my quarters are almost as bad." CROW: I want a complete report on the relative messiness of each crewmember's quarters by 0700. > "I've been trying to track down that hacker, but I just can't >seem to find any sign they are still active," Jackie said, placing the >stale chips and flat grape soda in the replicator for recycling. TOM: So, on Star Trek, everyone eats out of the trash bin? > "I >haven't had time to sleep in two days." MIKE: All that hacker inactivity is keeping her up nights. > "Jackie, you don't have to short yourself sleep to do a good >job," Clara said. "Save that for when you have children. TOM: Only expose the young to your sleep-deprivation psychosis. Your commanding officer deserves better. MIKE: Remember, in this universe, odds are those two sets intersect. > In fact if >you don't get some sleep, you are going to be making lots of mistakes. >You'll never capture the hacker that way." > "I guess," Jackie replied, stacking her ROM chips up neatly. CROW: Put 'em in some Tupperware, or they'll go stale. TOM: Or just pass 'em down here if you're not hungry anymore. > "I >just want to do everything well. I have the family tradition to hold >up." MIKE: And her Picard Family Performance Review is in two weeks! > "Jackie, you really want to follow in your sister's footsteps, >don't you?" Clara guessed, clearing off Jackie's bed. Jackie nodded. >"I wouldn't if I were you. Marrissa has always been very driven. CROW: If she sees you as a potential rival, she'll use your intestines for a subspace antenna. TOM: Calling Marrissa "driven" is like calling Akiva Goldsman "untalented". >She's pushed herself very hard to get herself where she is now. She >hasn't always been happy with her life. TOM: Captain, sensors are detecting a massive auctoral retcon off the port bow! > I don't think she really felt >comfortable with herself until just before she married Jay. CROW: And five minutes later, the feeling vanished. > Marrissa >makes a nice goal, but if I were you, MIKE: I'd avoid kicking soccer balls at her. She hates that. > I'd try to learn from her >mistakes." > "Marrissa makes mistakes?" Jackie said, somewhat surprised. CROW: She makes them on purpose, so as not to make others uncomfortable with her perfection. > "Yes, she makes mistakes, just like anyone else," Clara replied. >"She pushed herself really hard. Jay and I were constantly trying to >get her to relax a little. MIKE: But the crowbars just bounced right off of her head. > So, why don't you get some rest? I'll tell >Shayna to keep watch on the system, and when you have a good night's >sleep, I'm sure you'll be able to solve what ever comes your way >then." MIKE: And so, we learn an imnortant lesson. TOM: The only thing keeping the entire Picard claa from attaining perfection is an inability to nap. > "OK, as long as you do," Jackie yawned. > >Chapter Four CROW: This story is moving along rather briskly, considering nothing's actually happened yet. TOM: We're lost, but we're making great time! > > Conducting a multi-media presentation was not something that you >would consider the job of the Commanding Admiral, Star Fleet. MIKE: So we'll forgive Picard for using the Multiple Bars template... CROW: And 28-point Arial... TOM: And his excessive usage of Screen Beans. MIKE: The Office 97 sketch, ladies and gentlemen. >Marrissa was doing it though. She had a large screen displaying >Romulan, Klingon, and Federation space. TOM: This is no time to be playing Risk! CROW: Betcha Marrissa takes Irkutsk. > A holo-projector was ready >for her use. There were examples of Federation shipbuilding. She had >the results of the latest conflicts. MIKE: She was wearing her "power skirt", and had broucht bagels for everyone. > Admiral Picard hoped that she had >everything that the Klingon High Council would need and she was >willing to give to make the Klingons come in on the Federation side. CROW: And we, we intrepid readers, are praying they won't want much. > The Romulan representative wasn't attending this session, and >Marrissa wouldn't be attending the Romulan briefing the later in the >day. Both of them would be attending the dinner that evening though. TOM: But neither of them would be attending the hoedown. MIKE: For detailed information on both Marrissa and Saavik's schedules, consult Appendix ZZ. > The High Council stood waiting for her to begin. "Admiral >Picard," Kern said. "Why should we join your side?" CROW: [Marrissa] I'll give you a dollar and be your frfend > "Why? Well it's only the sensible thing to do," Marrissa began. ALL: And a tasty way to do it. >"On this screen is the borders as of before the war. Now watch as I >move the lines to where they are now." MIKE: Now, all of a sudden, it's PicturePages. TOM: Today, on PicturePages, the Romulan War. Eat Jell-O Pudding Pops. > The borders of the Romulan >Empire suddenly collapsed on the Federation side, moving 20-30 parsecs >from their previous position, judging from the scale of the map. MIKE: See? We're losing! Join us! > A >member gasp at the sudden change. CROW: Now that's just completely filthy. Stephen must be getting some perverted influences in his life. > "I see you are impressed," Marrissa said. "Perhaps you'll be >impressed even more by this lovely highlight film. MIKE: [NFL Films] But for Marrissa Amber Flores Picard and the Federation Packers, there would be. . . another day. > Our first segment >is from the Battle of Star Fort Four. CROW: Home base of F-Troop: The Next Generation. > Involved forces were the >starship Enterprise-F, the Warbirds Ravage, Rage, and Rampage TOM: It's a theme fleet! MIKE: They were later reinforced by the Roughage and the Reportage. > under >the command of Star Fort Four, and a dozen from nearby Star Forts." CROW: Whose names aren't important, since they'll be shrapnel in half a page. > The holo-projector fired up. TOM: While Marrissa shot up. > A large gold and orange planet >appeared with the Nova Class Starship Enterprise coming out of warp in >front of it. MIKE: This image is suitable for framing, or makes a lovely addition to any opening credits sequence. > She released fighters which headed up toward the north >pole of the planet. CROW: That Romulan bastard K'ris K'ringle is gonna pay. > Then the Enterprise began moving around the >planet. A damaged Warbird moved into view. "The first challenge of >the battle wasn't much. TOM: Just the way Marrissa likes it. > The Warbird you see, the Ravage, had been >damaged when the Enterprise-E exploded near it." ALL: Huh? CROW: The Big E is... gone? MIKE: No more emotion chip? TOM: No more saddling up, locking and/or loading? CROW: No more Troi and Riker bubble baths? TOM: I feel better already. > On the screen, the >Ravage was quickly destroyed. Two new Warbirds moved into view. "The >Rage and the Rampage were much more serious opponents." TOM: Good. The Ravage's constant giggling was really getting on my nerves. > The >Enterprise, now pursued by two Warbirds, headed past the Star Fort >before turning up to the North Pole of the planet. A cloud of debris >surrounded the polar region, the remains of the sixth starship >Enterprise and the half-a-dozen Warbirds it had taken with it to her >death CROW: Riker finally found a tactical maneuver suited to his unique philosophy: kamikaze. TOM: Nobody got him. He was the divine wind, baby. > "Unfortunately, the Captains of the Warbirds suffered from an >affliction commanders of Fighter Carriers call Fighteritus. ALL: [boggling, snickering, general incredulousness] MIKE: Fighteritus? TOM: That's gotta be the one. CROW: What "one"? TOM: Come on, I'll explain. [Door Sequence] MIKE: Now, what's this about a "one"? CROW: You're not going all Cuba Gooding Jr. on us, are you? TOM; No. It's like this. Ever since Stephen and Dr. Forrester embarked on their unholy alliance lo those many years ago, Stephen's started throwing one deliberate thing into each of his stories for us to jump on. CROW: Kind of like the Princess and the Pea, only misspelled? MIKE: Ah, I get it. And you're saying this "fighteritus" thing is it. Something he put in on purpose for us to make fun of. TOM: That's my theory, at least. CROW: But wait. We make fun of the whole thing. We have to. It's all bad. What difference does one deliberate, leading straight line make in a Ratliff story? It's like searching for hay in a haystack! MIKE: Maybe it makes him feel better. TOM: Maybe he's just a psycho. I don't know. I don't pretend to understand 'em, I just ride and rope and brand 'em, and I'm pretty sure "fighteritus" is it. CROW: So what do we do with our newfound knowledge? TOM: I don't know. MIKE: I say we just go in there, find out what this so-called "fighteritus" is all about, and let nature take it's course. CROW: Of course you would, Mike. That's the solution involving the least effort. But won't there be some consequence to playing right into the hands of Stephen's dirty little psych-op? TOM: Some consequence worse than actually reading the rest of the story? CROW: Good point. And anyway [lights flash] WE'VE GOT MARRISSA SIGN!!! [Door Sequence] MIKE: [Patronizing] OK, Stephen. What's "fighteritus"? > The >inability to consider fighters a threat." MIKE: Oh, well that makes... huh? TOM: If I'm not scared of the Pope, is that mitreitus? MIKE: And by that reasoning, I was way off base in dealing with my sinusitis. CROW: So, would the inability to consider the letter "b" a threat be "bitus"? > As the Warbirds entered the >cloud, wings of fighters emerged, making passes on the Warbirds who >ignored them and pounded on the Enterprise. TOM: Warbirds don't make passes at fighters who wear glasses. > The fighters and the >Enterprise disposed of the Romulans and returned to the Starbase. MIKE: And now it seems that "writeritus" is the inability to consider giving your battle scenes an exciting climax. > "I had planned on boarding to rescue the crew of the >Enterprise-E, but Admiral Riker had already taken the place," Marrissa >said. CROW: Aw, Riker's not dead? MIKE: Don't worry. He just robbed Marrissa of some glory. I give him another month, tops. > "As we had spotted reinforcements on their way, we loaded up >the crew of the old Enterprise and prepared to warp out of there. TOM: They were gonna make like a Rigellian banana, and fission. >Unfortunately, we had a some company arrive before that." MIKE: So I hadta whip up a big-a pot-a spaghetti. > A dozen >Warbirds moved into view, cutting off the Enterprise's escape route. >"With our route cut off, I did the sensible thing, CROW: I got my ears bobbed, my skin dyed, and prepared to change sides! > I went though >them." The Enterprise's defector dish opened fire TOM: Hey, Crow, you were right! CROW: I wouldn't have called Marrissa a "dish", though. > and the Star Fort >exploded as the Enterprise plunged into and through it. "They chased >us back into Federation space where the Endeavor under Captain Chelsea MIKE: Yes, coming soon, it's "Endeavor Under Captain Chelsea", the first story in Ratliff's new "Marrissaverse After Hours" series. >Crusher, and the medical ship Pasteur under Captain Beverly Picard >assisted us in destroying them. TOM: Oh, good one, Doc. MIKE: I guess the Hippocratic Oath is expendable when a TV show cameo is on the line. CROW: First, eat hot phasery death! Then, if you've got the time, uh, do no harm or something. > "That was a nice opening battle, but it was just an opening," >Counselor Kartog >stated. TOM: Don't worry, Mappy. If it's a heapin' helpin' of poorly thouqht out starship combat you're looking for, you've come to the right place. > "Yes, that was just a prologue," Marrissa smiled. "The next >battle I'm showing you is the Twenty-Second Battle of Earth. CROW: Taking place approximately 1 minute after Oog learned that sticks break skulls real good. > Involved >are the Federation's Second Fleet, under then Captain Geordi La Forge; TOM: And the cameos pile up like Romulan corpses... >several uncommissioned starships, including the Yorktown; the Fighter >Carrier Stargazer; and the Defiant under Vice Admiral Sisko. CROW: They promoted Brak's brother again? MIKE: No, "Sisko". You know, he used to be Hawk. TOM: The feather-head guy from Buck Rogers is Brak's brother? Small universe. > The scene opened with the Second Fleet in orbit above a quiet >Earth. Suddenly dozens of Warbirds decloaked, opening fire on Earth >directly. TOM: Instead of what, bank shots? > The Second Fleet sprung into motion, CROW: [singing] Oh, the most wonderful thing about Second Fleets is, I'm the only one. Yes, I'm... the only one! > shields raising, >phasers and torpedoes firing. "The attack was entirely unexpected. >We've since installed better sensors, which should prevent a >reoccurrence. MIKE: Probably. We think. Still, if this goes badly, call before you ambush us, OK? > During the initial bombardment, the United Federation >Congress, President Inno, and Star Fleet Headquarters, all vanished >under disrupter fire. CROW: While important targets escaped unscathed. TOM: Of course, this creates a vast power vacuum just itching to be filled by former Next Generation crew members. > By the time the Second Fleet pulled the >Romulans away from Earth, four hundred million people were dead." MIKE: Four hundred thousand descendants of Brannon Braga were mobilized to find contrived ways to bring them all back to life. > The >Second Fleet inserted itself between the Romulans and Earth, and >pushed them back. CROW: They've been taking lessons from Mills Lane. > The scene shifted to the red planet, as Marrissa said, "Meanwhile >above Mars, the Romulans planned to attack and destroy Utopia Planeta TOM: The triple-breasted whore of Eroticon Six? >Yards and all the ships being built there." The view focused on a >complex of space docks with ships in various states of completion in >them. "Commander McBroom, who commanded the yard CROW: He used to sweep out the ready room on the E-D. That's how he got this important command post. > sent all that were >able into action." Ships moved out of the docks, including a Nova >Class Starship, the Yorktown. "The attack on Mars was not successful. TOM: Our half-built fleet trounced those fully-equipped Romulan aggressors! >In fact, Star Fleet Intelligence says that the Romulan Command calls >it an unqualified disaster." MIKE: And I understand you brought a clip with you, Marrissa? > Partially finished, but not toothless >starships faced off against a lesser number but complete warbirds. CROW: In another exciting game of Family Feud! >The warbirds lost, as the uncommissioned and unfinished Starships >darted though and around the Romulan formation, sowing beads of >destructive torpedoes and lances of phaser fire among their foes. TOM: Someone call Doc Smith's estate, pronto. > "The Second Fleet wasn't having as much luck," Marrissa >acknowledged as the scene shifted back to Earth. The ships of the >Second Fleet appeared battered and were missing several of their >number. MIKE: Due to the Federation's ravenous appetite for tempura. CROW: And "tempural" anomalies? > "They had taken as many as they had lost, but there were more >Romulans." CROW: Take all the Romulans you want, but eat all you take. > An Excelsior class starship blows up, taking a warbird >with it. TOM: And creating a temporal tense warp. > "However, the Romulans didn't have reinforcements. >Starfleet didn't have the usual kind either, at least not in any time >that would matter." CROW: The Fourth Nerf Fleet was en route, but they wouldn't be much help. > Twenty old starships, whose markings were >familiar to the council, they'd learnt about these ships' proud >histories in school, moved into view. TOM: It's the USS Clumsy Comma Phrase, come to save the day! > The Enterprise-A, Kirk's last >command; MIKE: Even the old ships gotta have their cameos! ,the second Hood, veteran of no less than two dozen conflicts; CROW: And, judging from the name, Starfleet's only uncircumcised starship. >and the Enterprise-C, scourge of the First Cardassian War, were just >some of historic ships going into battle for the first time in years, >in some cases decades. TOM: But thanks to the tactical genius of Admiral Granpa Simpson, not a single life was lost. > "They may have been old, but they made a >difference." CROW: Frank Miller's "The Dark Civic-Minded Five Returns". > The old ships joined the fray, causing the Romulans to >rearrange themselves as the next ships came into view. MIKE: [Old Schoolmarm] I said single file! Single file! Tommy Ravage, you get to the principal's office right now, mister! > "The Fighter >Carrier Stargazer chose to enter the battle from behind the moon. A >tactic that served it well." TOM: Let's just sit here and admire the beauty. CROW: "Enter the battle from behind the moon. " MIKE: Straight lines that pure and innocent are rarely seen outside of captivity. CROW: Take only pictures, guys, and leave only footprints. > The Stargazer, Marrissa's father's first >Command, and a former post of the young lady came out from behind the >Moon, its phasers firing, a halo of fighter surrounding it. TOM: Ah, the glory, the majesty, the traditions expressed through four hundred and sixty two consecutive comma phrases. > "The >Defiant took an interesting arrival." MIKE: And turned it into a festive centerpiece, perfect for entertaining! CROW: Mike, nothing in this story is "perfect for entertaining". > The Defiant appeared as if it >had came right out of the closed doors of the Starbase. She raced >though the Romulan fleet leaving a strip of scored hull on each >Warbird she passed. CROW: He shoots, He scores! > "The Utopia fleet, having finished off it's opponents, finished >the battle," Marrissa said. TOM: The half-finished Finnish fleet finished its foes and flew to France to finish the fight. > The uncommissioned Starship Yorktown MIKE: ...annoyed that it wouldn't be receiving a share of the battle's proceeds... > and >its companions moved in pushing the remnants of the Romulan attack >force away from Earth. ALL: Push 'em back! Shove 'em back! Waaaaaay back! > The projection faded. > "That attack must have severely damaged the Federation," Kern >stated. > "Not as much as one would have thought," Marrissa replied. CROW: [Marrissa] Since I and every TV cast member and ship survived. > "We >only lost twenty ships. As for the damage to Star Fleet's command >structure, well, we had a lot of unnecessary structure, building in >redundancy. TOM: Unnecessary non-Picard structure. > I had a fully functional staff that I haven't changed >yet, serving me by the end of the day. MIKE: Thanks to my Kids' New Galactic Order clubs. > It also gave a good motivation >to our officers when I launched the next campaign." TOM: "Join us or die." > "A good victory is always good for moral," an old council member >stated. CROW: Apparently, the Klingon Aesop. > "The next set, is probably the first time I've deliberately set >out to lose," MIKE: [Pee-Wee] I meant to do that CROW: Again, not the most convincing argument for Klingons. "We lose on purpose! Join us!" > Marrissa began as a diagram of section of the >Romulan/Federation boarder came up. "The group of Star Forts Nine, >Five, Six, and Twelve were tough. TOM: Since only two of them were actually near each other. MIKE: Wacky Romulan numbering schemes. > Each of them reinforced the others >when they were attacked. TOM: Five million tons of spinning support group, all alone in the night. > So I first made a run down the line, hitting >them as I passed, engaging them in battle with the eye to taking as >many ships out of contention as possible with as little damage as >possible. MIKE: And it's bold, innovative tactics like that that make Marrissa the treasure she is. > Then I detached Captain Hikaru Sulu of the Excelsior with >five ships, making a hit and run attack on Nine, CROW: Score one more rollicking success for the Cameo Brigade! > as Captain Demora >Sulu of the Osaka and five other ships did the same with Six. After >waiting until Five and Twelve sent reinforcements to their distressed >counterparts, I hit Star Fort Five, which is between Nine and Twelve." TOM: Monty Python's Star Trek: Return To Glory! > "The attack was easy," Marrissa said. "We had some nice little >tricks up our sleeves. MIKE: [Bullwinkle] Maybe it's time I got a new hat. > Commander Wesley Crusher, First Officer of the >Endeavor, TOM: And pan-dimensional boy-god, > had installed a phased cloaking device on his ship. He took >his ship right into the Star Fort's main repair bay and uncloaked. MIKE: Travelers, strangely, are big on "peek-a-boo". >When his boarding parties beamed into the station, the Romulans were >totally unprepared. CROW: No paper hats, no cake, no Romulan Ale... > To make matters worse, my Computer Security >Officer joined them, taking the computer over in quite a short time." TOM: It was an iMac, so it didn't weigh much. > "The footage I'm about to show you was obtained from Star Fort >5's computers," Marrissa stated. "I'm sorry about the quality of the >images, but it was the best I could find." MIKE: They hadn't installed 3D acceleration, so Half-Life runs like crap. > A control room overlooking a large repair dock appeared on >screen. The dock was empty, but the room had two officers in it. TOM: There are exits to the north, west, and southeast. CROW: GO WEST MIKE: Life is peaceful there. CROW: I knew there was a reason you got fired from Infocom. > As >the footage began, a Nebula Class Starship, the Endeavor appeared in >the bay, fading in. The Romulan officers ran toward the console, >intending to sound the alarm. TOM: Security, we have a Level One Wheaton Alert in the repair bay. > Six Starfleet Officers beamed into the >room. Quick phaser shots stunned the Romulans before the alarm could >be sounded. "As you can see the initial boarding when very well," CROW: But then Wesley rolled over and went to sleep. >Marrissa commented. "The next step was to take the computer core." > Wesley led a formation down a hallway, with a girl with >strawberry blond hair in a protected position at the center. MIKE: The boarding party would gladly give their lives for one of Marrissa's Elite. >"Commander Wesley Crusher lead the team," Marrissa said. As they >headed down the hallway, his team stunned the Romulans as they came >into view. Rarely did the Romulans get a second shot. TOM: Can't blame Stephen for this. That's pretty much every infiltration shown on Trek. > "The fast pace >he set enabled them to get deep within the Star Fort before the >security forces caught up with them." MIKE: Sounds like Wes'd be hell as a first date. > The view shifted to a camera by a guarded room. The security >team came around the corner and opened fire. CROW: The funny thing is, they didn't know the enemy was there. That's just SOP on Romulan ships. > These guards got off a >dozen shots, stunning one of Wesley's team. The two guards were >stunned after a brief firefight and the young girl moved to access the >controls by the door. MIKE: Maybe she'll pull an R2-D2 and access the power junction by mistake. > "The girl you see here is my little sister, >Jacqueline Picard," Marrissa said. "She was instrumental in making >this plan work." TOM: This is still the plan to lose on purpose, right? MIKE: Speaking of Jackie, anyone seen the "capture the hacker" subplot? CROW: I'm sure it'll get dug out of the couch cushions soon enough. > Jackie worked for a moment, then her eyes sparkling, >she turned toward her brother, and made a grand presenting gesture >toward the door as it opened. CROW: Open, sez me! MIKE: Not many authors would put phrases like "her eyes sparkling" into their commando raids. CROW: Tom Clancy would. > Inside a half dozen Romulan Computer >Technicians were slumped over their consoles, apparently taken out by >their own computer defenses. TOM: They're just fried from playing "Bust-A-Groove" all night long. > Wesley's team made a quick check of the room, securing the >Romulans before letting his little sister come in to the room and take >over the controls. CROW: I bet she picks Shorty. > The view faded to the Commanding Admiral of the >Star Fort, who was saying, "I demand you withdraw your troops >immediately. If you don't I will destroy this base with your troops on >it." MIKE: And kill Wesley. Talk about an ineffective threat. > Marrissa's voice responded, "Go ahead." > "Computer set self-destruct," the Admiral ordered, placing his >hand on a nearby panel. "Authorization, Sivisc Primus Command Delta >One Four One Destruct." TOM: If he'd just used 10-10-Sivisc Primus Command Delta One Four One Destruct, he'd save up to 50%. > The Romulan Computer responded in a deep bass, "Insufficient >authorization." The image faded. MIKE: Barry White disapproves of self-destruct. > Marrissa smiled, saying, "That gentlemen, is how to take over a >Star Fort without damaging a single circuit. CROW: Yeah, but what are the odds the Klingons have a CS major in K'virginia to make sure their plans go off flawlessly. TOM: And what the hell happened to losing on purpose? > I'd show you more hand >to hand footage, but we have a problem with cameras surviving those, >and the Romulans seem to prefer to use their disrupters instead of >their hands. CROW: Well, unless their hands can produce powerful beams of energy that'll shake your sorry ass apart, molecule by molecule, I'd say that's a smart choice. > They are singularly lacking in the unarmed and sword >combat skills, a shame in a most challenging enemy." CROW: And they can't tiddly-wink worth a damn, either. > "We've seen you battles, but what about your ships," Kern asked. TOM: Weren't those the ships -in- the battles? MIKE: Kern's not the sharpest bat'leth in the cabinet. >"I've been hearing my niece bragging about how well the Enterprise >performs, and all we've seen are a couple snips of battle. I want to >see a whole workout on that ship." CROW: Preferably with everyone in tight spandex. TOM: And lift, and stretch! Feel the Kern, ladies! > Marrissa smiled. "I can do that." The Nova class Starship >Enterprise appeared via the holographic projector. It was still >its docking bay over Mars. MIKE: It's America's Most Shocking Candid Starship Videos! > A quick circuit of the ship was made >before the picture changed. "The Nova class Starship Enterprise was >the second Nova Class off the line, and the seventh of her name. CROW: Starfleet: the most forward-thinking hidebound traditionalists in the galaxy. >Currently there are three Novas in service, the Nova, the Yorktown, >and the Enterprise. A fourth, the Lexington, is due to be >commissioned in a month." MIKE: They had to stop at four, though. Spanish planets thought the ships "wouldn't go". > The Enterprise was now moving in space, >shooting off phasers and torpedoes at targets, all of which were hit. CROW: Specifically, the other three Novas. >"Capable of at least warp 14 on the Clara II scale, MIKE: Oh, Stephen, you forgot to name Marrissa's chair after one of your characters. Wouldn't want to leave a single inanimate object unscathed. > she has 36 phaser >banks, 5 torpedo bays, and a compliment of 500 fighter craft." TOM: "Boy, those 500 fighter craft sure are pretty." > A >squadron of fighters, 49 in all, launched from the forward bay, and >took up a formation around the ship. MIKE: Pointing inward, weapons locked. > "The ship can separate into two >parts. The saucer section is capable of landing and taking off, >unlike that of the fifth starship Enterprise." CROW: Which was just capable of landing. Sort of. > "I remember that," Kern commented. "Tell me, has anyone let >Counselor Troi pilot a ship since then?" MIKE: She's an empathic half-alien psychologist. However, as a former TV show character in a Ratliff story, command is inevitable. > "She's now Captain Troi of the Hawaii," Marrissa responded. "I >don't think any of the Enterprise's former staff has let her take the >helm since then, but she's got her own ship now, and if she wants to >pilot it, well it's her court-martial when it crashes into a planet." ALL: Wah wah wah waaaaah! TOM: [Dumb] Heh... women drivers. > The High Council laughed at the comment. CROW: Thereby avoiding vaporization. TOM: When I say Marrissa killed at the Improv last night, I mean she -killed- at the Improv last night. > "Seriously, is there anything else you'd like to know?" Marrissa >asked. MIKE: Why Timmy threw his clock out the window, perhaps? TOM: Or what you think about airplane food? CROW: Ooh! Tell us how white people dance! > "I do not think so," Kern said. "You've stated your rather >strong position, and given us lots of good reasons to support your >cause." MIKE: And that's the bottom line, 'cause Stone Cold Steve Ratliff said so. > Kartog interrupted, "I for one, would not mind fighting at the >side of your Enterprise or any of those Nova Class ships. They are >truly, swords of honor." TOM: No, truly, they're big honkin' spaceships. MIKE: They're only "swords of honor" in Kartog's twisted little Freudian metaphor world. > "I will be sure to pass your compliment on to their designers and >crews," Marrissa said. > "He-hem. As I was saying, you've said everything we need," Kern >said. "I will see you at tonight's banquet." TOM: You could say you'll be... the guest of honor. Muahahaha! > "Very well," Marrissa said. She gathered up her stuff and exited >the room. CROW: Gripping "stuff-gathering" action! >Chapter Five TOM: ... is alive! > Once again Marrissa and Jay were relaxing in the VIP quarters. >"So how do you think you did?" Jay asked. MIKE: "I stated my rather strong position, and given them lots of good reasons to support my cause. Weren't you listening?" > "I'm worried, Jay," Marrissa replied. "Kern's dismissal was >really curt. CROW: Well, to be fair, you just would not shut up. > I don't think he wants join the war on our side. If the >Council Leader can't support us, then we are a lost cause." TOM: Apparently, Kern is suddenly eager to kill his relatives. MIKE: Can you really blame him? > "He's in a really hard spot," Jay replied. MIKE: "Right between my shoulder blades. Would you get that?" > "He has relatives in >Star Fleet, but he has to appear undecided until he has a consensus. >You know how hard that can be with Klingons." CROW: Appearing undecided? They're handling it pretty well so far. > "Well at least Counselor Kartog seemed to be in favor of us," >Marrissa said. TOM: After Jay's pantsing, why wouldn't he be? > "I knew there was a bright spot," Jay said. "You'll never guess >who came to relieve the Osaka's Chief Medical officer." MIKE: Commander Rolaids? CROW: Ten to one it's another cameo. > "Who?" Marrissa asked. "And more importantly why?" > "It seems that Doctor Beverly Picard decided that since her >husband had recovered, it would be advisable to make sure you got the >best of care when your time came," Jay replied. TOM: [G'Kar] You're time has come and gone! It's our turn now! > "She gave the CMO a >runabout ride to Risa and a four week pass." MIKE: And put the rest "on account". > "I bet Doctor Minizo liked that," Marrissa said. "Although I'm >not sure I can stand time under Mom's care." CROW: [Beverly] Now bundle up before you go into battle. You'll catch your death! And don't run with that phaser, young lady. You'll vaporise someone's eye. > "Is there something wrong with the good Doctor?" Jay asked. > "You know my father has said that all Starship Captains should >take a course on how to escape from Sickbay?" > "I have heard." TOM: And I have flock. Is this scene over yet? > "Well, its necessary because certain CMO's care so much about >their patients that they are never let out of the Sickbay until every >molecule is back in the right place," Marrissa said. MIKE: Ah, of all the elements of Classic Trek to adopt and keep alive, we chose "captains hate medical care". > "And your mother is one of them," Jay concluded. > "Yes." CROW: This story is closed-captioned for the hyperbole-impaired. > Jackie Picard was sleeping peacefully, her body having decided to >take all the sleep it could while it could. ALL: Aaaah! MIKE: I hate it when the subplot sneaks up on us like that. > A smile graced her face >and a wisp of her strawberry blond hair had gotten caught in her >mouth. TOM: Violin music swells, the lens goes all soft-focusy... MIKE: And another young character is inadvertently sexualized. > Her room was a lot cleaner than it had been in weeks, thanks >to Clara. The image was shattered at 0700 hours, when suddenly the >computer began playing "Stars and Strips Forever." ALL: [burst out laughing] CROW: Demi Moore IS John Phillips Sousa IN "Stars and Strips Forever". MIKE: That does it. I'm swearing off spellcheckers for life. > Jackie woke up and jumped out of bed, rubbing her eyes. >"Computer, turn off alarm," she ordered. "Give me a summary of any >computer security notations since 1700 hours yesterday." TOM: Well, there was a D# around 2 a.m... > "Attempted hack into desert database by Ensign Gomez," the >computer began. "Logged off, notation sent to Doctor Johnson." CROW: He hacked into the desert on a Trojan horse with no name. > "You'd think he'd give up trying to get around his diet by now," >Jackie muttered. MIKE: Starfleet actually grew out of the Center for Science in the Public Interest. > "Attempted access to Flight plan database. Allowed by Lieutenant >Sachs. Attempted access of old secured database, trace route failed. >Summary of data obtained by trace route saved to secured log. List of >possible terminals for access sent to Lieutenant Sachs and Ensign >Picard. End Notations." CROW: Whatever the hell -that- meant. > "Computer, how long until my father arrives?" Jackie asked. TOM: "Wait 'Til Your Father Gets Home: The Next Generation." > "Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard is scheduled to arrive in 2 hours >35 minutes." > "Just enough time to get ready. MIKE: When Picard comes back, everyone put on their bald caps and bury the Statue of Liberty up to her neck. > Any messages?" > "One, from Nicholas Rene Picard, USS Sovereign." > "Message summary?" > "Dos and Don'ts when Dad arrives." TOM: It's the 24th century, and co-workers still haven't stopped forwarding wacky e-mail. > "Save message, and remind me of it in an hour." > > Admiral Saavik was ready for her presentation. ALL: Aaaah! CROW: Plot whiplash! Where's my neck brace? I wanna sue. > She did not know >if she could win. The Romulans were not winning the war. If the >Klingons came on the Romulan side, they would win. If the Klingons >joined the Federation side, the life span of the Romulan Star Empire >had dropped to a few months, if not weeks. TOM: I think they're qiving too much credit to a bunch of bumpy-headed worm-eaters, but it is the story's premise, I guess. > The set up was the same as it had been for the Federations >presentation. The members of the Klingon High Council were gathered >awaiting her words. Kern spoke up, "Convince us." MIKE: And try to keep it under three days. > "I'd give you highlight films," Saavik began. "But, those can be >altered. CROW: Hint hint, nudge nudge, cough Marrissa's got Photoshop cough. > So I'll start with how the Romulan Star Empire planned to >win, before you announced your intention to join the war. MIKE: These were our stupid plans. They didn't work. Join us! > I'm sure my >honorable adversary, her royal highness, Admiral Marrissa Picard, has >been most through in explaining the current situation." TOM: That's diplomat speak for "Boy, would that skank EVER shut up?" > "You've no doubt heard of what the Federation calls the Battles >of the Star Fort Line. It is that set of battles, which the Romulans >won all but the last two, which gave us the opening we needed." CROW: The Star Fort Line. Destined to share a place in history alongside the Maginot Line, the Bottom Line, and the Fishing Line. > She pointed to a Star Fort with a Star Fleet Insignia as its >indicator. "This is Star Fort Five, recently taken by the Federation. MIKE: Pesky graffiti artists. CROW: Be on the lookout for a nerd carrying a can of gold spraypaint. TOM: Still, at least it doesn't say "I was captured by a bunch of kids." >To get to it, the Federation must run a gauntlet of our lines. CROW: Romulan needs food, badly! > We >believe that we can close off that path, destroying all the ships on >their way to the Starbase. TOM: I sure hope Marrissa's taking notes. > With that done, three of the Federation's >Fleets will be cut off from the rest of them. We will then attack and >destroy the Federation's forces from that point on their lines up to >the Klingon border." CROW: "Unless, of course, some bizarre, improbable event leads to our entire Empire being subjugated by a pregnant woman. But what are the odds of that?" >Chapter Six MIKE: Because every once in a while, putting up a signpost to your abrupt scene changes is a good thing. > "We've got to get that spy," Jackie said, as she looked over the >list of suspects that Lieutenant Sachs and Commander O'Brien had >narrowed down while she was sleeping. TOM: Nothing like a nice nap to provide plausible deniability during your pogrom. > There was just 31 left. CROW: One for each flavor at Baskin-Robbins. > When >she finished skimming it, she looked up and said, "These are all >certainly capable of hacking into the system. Ensign Gomez has been >trying to get around his diet restrictions for weeks." MIKE: [singing] All wheat patty on a sesame bun; I love the taste too much, can never stop at one... > "Could he be the spy?" O'Brien asked. > "I won't rule him out," Sachs said. "He did have the >opportunity." CROW: Plus, he's a big fatty-fat-fatty, and we hate him. > "Gomez just wants a chocolate dipped vanilla ice cream cone," >Jackie said. "It's how I know it's him. Doctor Johnson has put him >on a diet and prohibited ice cream. MIKE: 400 years in the future, and the big obesity cure is "hands off the Chunky Monkey, Porkins." > Since the day he got on that >diet, I've been catching him every night at 1800 hours ordering the >same forbidden treat. TOM: For God's sakes, already, lay off Gomez! CROW: Hasn't the poor guy suffered enough without you stalking him? > I log him off, send him a lecture, and then >remind myself why I can't have the same treat." MIKE: Because you're living in some weird, crypto-fascist anti-dairy pleasure-denying hellhole? Just a guess. > "That's right, you're allergic to vanilla," Shayna said. TOM: Then this story should turn her into one giant hive. > "Yeah, the one thing nobody else is," Jackie stated. "It's so >hard to turn down everything with it in. It just looks so good. Oh >well, at least I can have chocolate." CROW: Yeah, until Jackson Jefferson Jingleheimer Johnson has another psychotic episode. TOM: Then Jackie'll be the one pounding on a console at 1800, sobbing as she reads a stern food lecture from another of the ship's culinary busybodies. > "You know, if the spy thought we had gotten the wrong person and >weren't looking for another, we might be able to catch them," O'Brien >commented, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand. MIKE: Guess its time to have ol' Gomez publicly executed on trumped-up charges. For the good of the Federation and all. > "You mean we arrest someone and make it look like we've found >them," Shayna commented. "Not a bad idea, any suggestions?" CROW: Yeah, one. Stop borrowing plot points from "Matlock". > "I have one," Ensign Jackie Picard said. "At 1800 hours tonight, >I think Ensign Gomez will be getting an unexpected dessert." TOM: Oh, man... poor Gomez. MIKE: His only crime was loving too much, in a world he never made. > "Sulu to Ensign Picard." > "Go ahead." CROW: "I heard you were gonna relentlessly torment Fatty Gomez. Can I help?" > "The Sovereign has arrived." > "Thank you, Captain." Jackie said. "I'll meet my father in >transporter room 1. Picard out. If you all will excuse me, I've got >a father to greet." MIKE: "And I pray to God I don't smell ice cream on his breath." > > Marrissa and Jay, along with Jay's sister Lynn returned to their >quarters after the Klingon banquet. Jay was somewhat drunk, which was >to be expected. . MIKE: I'd be surprised if Jay didn't have a hundred dollar a day coke habit. TOM: I would. MIKE: Really? TOM: Yeah... no money in Trek, remember? > This was a Klingon banquet after all. Marrissa and >Lynn had avoided the bloodwine. Marrissa pleaded Doctor's orders, and >Lynn was not of age. CROW: That blows, man. I'm old enough to fight, and die, in your little Romulan War, but I'm too young for bloodwine. > "Jay, what was that stuff they served us?" Lynn asked, as they >took seats on the couch. "It was still moving." MIKE: "Moving"? Lynn's got a bigger emotional attachment to food than Gomez. TOM: Not you too, Mike. CROW: Yeah, lay off Gomez. > "Gagh," Marrissa replied, looking up at the ceiling. CROW: Murray! The ceiling needs painting! > "One of the >staples of the Klingon diet. It's suppose to be served while it's >still moving. TOM: If I hadn't nailed that gagh to the plate, it would have muscled up to the edge of the table, and... voom! > There is an old Klingon saying, 'there is nothing worse >than half-dead gagh.'" MIKE: Better half-dead than half-Red! > "Yes there is," Lynn said. "Living gagh." TOM: George Romero's "Night of the Living Gagh". > "You may be right," Marrissa replied. "I see you enjoyed the >blood pie though." CROW: New Hostess Blood Pies. > "It kinda tasted like cherries," Lynn said. "But I can't see how >a Klingon restaurant would make money. It's awful food." MIKE: That never stopped TGI Fridays. > "Then perhaps you would like to sample the food of Germernus VI," >Jay said. TOM: Their entire cuisine is based around tofu. > "Cook's creed, the longer it's in the pot the better. They >seem to be there proof behind that old rhyme, 'some like it hot, some >like it cold, some like in the pot, nine days old.' CROW: Thank God for that. I was lying awake nights worrying about that just being a hypothesis. > The last time I >had to eat there, the banquet hall looked like someone had put the >food on the table and left it to rot for a month." TOM: Kind of like Mike's kitchenette. MIKE: OK. I'll do the dishes after the experiment. TOM: Getting rid of two things that stink in one fell swoop. > "Don't remind me," Marrissa said. "Did you see how the Romulan >Admiral looked at the food. She didn't know what to think." CROW: Anybody else get the impression that Stephen wrote big chunks of this in class, right before lunch? > "Just like the first time anyone tries Klingon," Jay said. "I >remember the first time you tried it. I don't think you ate more than >a bite of each food. MIKE: Except for the strawberry gagh. > "I was seven years old and a very picky eater, Jay," Marrissa >replied. CROW: Unlike Gomez. Hell. Now you've got me doing it too. > > >Chapter Seven > TOM: In which our heroes relate glorious tales of sammiches they have known and loved. > Commodore Sulu, Commander Rozhenko, and Ensign Picard gathered in >Transporter Room. MIKE: The evocative Ratliffian scene-setting at work again. > Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard and his son Nicholas >were due to come aboard. All of them were in Dress uniform. Behind >the console was Chief O'Brien, in regular duty uniform. CROW: This Fall, from Playmates. MIKE: And the sheer effort of calculating the odds of all these cameos occuring naturally causes the ship's computers to explode. The end. > "The Sovereign signals that the Commanding Admiral is ready to >beam aboard," O'Brien said. > "Beam him aboard, Chief," Sulu said. CROW: He's getting better. Two shots at a "Beam him a broad" joke blown to hell. > Jean-Luc Picard and his son materialized. The Fleet Admiral wore >a black and gray formal jump suit, not standard issue. TOM: Ah, something from the Space Tommy Hilfiger collection. > His son wore a >navy outfit, reminisce of late twentieth century British navy dress >uniform. MIKE: Fresh off his tour with the Space Village People. > Jackie was of the private opinion that it looked nice on >Nick. TOM: Tom was of the public opinion that the word "thought" would have come in pretty damn handy in that sentence. > "Welcome aboard, Admiral," Sulu stated. > "Thank you, Commodore," Jean-Luc said. > "This is my acting First Officer, Lieutenant Commander Alexander >Rozhenko," Sulu introduced. > "I'm familiar with him, he and my oldest daughter are childhood >friends," Picard said., MIKE: [Picard] But let's not have that stand in the way of a brisk round of mutual introductions. Let's all give our ranks again. > "How is the new baby, Alex?" CROW: Only a Lieutenant, sir. We're very disappointed. > "Alexis finally slept though the night last night," Alexander >said. > "Lieutenant Commander Miles O'Brien is our Chief Engineer," Sulu >said. TOM: You may remember him from the years you served together on the Enterprise. > "Still running the transporter after all these years, Chief?" >Jean-Luc said. CROW: Everyone else in the Ratliffverse has upward mobility coming out of their pores. What's Miles' problem? > "Your daughter drafted me, sir," O'Brien said. > "So I heard," Jean-Luc said. MIKE: Caught him just short of the Canadian border. > "And of course you know my Computer Security Officer," Sulu said. TOM: [Picard] Probably, but why don't you introduce us just to be on the safe side. > Jean-Luc Picard looked up and down at his daughter. CROW: [wolf whistle] > Jackie had >spent some time preparing for her father's arrival. MIKE: Rehearsing safe conversation topics, memorizing Marrissa's latest exploits... > Her strawberry >blond hair was up in a intricate and tight braid, held in place by two >of her sister's silver combs. TOM: It's a Mobius braid. > Coupled with the Star Fleet dress >uniform, he hadn't seen Jackie so dressed up since her first >communion, some four years before. MIKE: Amazing what a difference 500 years makes. Wear a Trek uniform to your communion these days and you'll probably get excommunicated. > With a twinkle in his eye, he replied, "I don't believe I know >this young lady." CROW: After all, we haven't been introduced yet. > Commodore Sulu, having been in this situation during her career, >stood back and watched. TOM: [Sulu] I'm going to tell my grandkids about -this- introduction! > Nicholas stepped up, "This can't be my sister. At least not >Jack." ALL: YOU DON'T KNOW -JACK-! > "And why not, Nicki?" Jackie said. MIKE: Darling Nicki? CROW: Let's not go there. > "No circles under the eyes, no grape soda stains on the uniform," >Nicholas said. TOM: ... no hands, throttled tightly around my neck... > "And she was suppose to be handling a security breach >of some sort. That can't be my younger sister." CROW: She's a Changeling! Get her! > "Nicki, I'm two years older than you, and I'm not the only person >in Computer Security, just the highest ranked," Jackie replied. TOM: Nicki's the Changeling! Get him! > "You probably act like it though," Nicholas said. MIKE: Fight! Fight! > "That will be enough, Nicholas," his father said. "I assume >you've been doing well under your sister's command." TOM: If that's not a startlingly Orwellian turn of phrase, I don't know what is. > "Fine, father," Jackie said. "I assume Nicki has been keeping >you from exhausting yourself." MIKE: I've heard kids'll do that to a marraige. > "I've been trying, but he doesn't make it easy," Nicholas said. CROW: I walk in on them, and he just keeps on going, vowing to top his best "Kobayashi Maru time". > "Your brother has an annoying habit of appear just when I'm in >the middle of something and stopping me," Jean-Luc said. MIKE: And the analogy just keeps getting ickier. > "If I didn't >know better, I'd say he has been taking lessons from Wesley." TOM: So now Weasely's using his pan-dimensional powers to stop his mom and Picard... MIKE: I think this needs to stop now. My lunch containment field's at 15% > "And who says I haven't," Nicholas said, pulling a white rose >out, seemingly from the air. He handed it to his sister, who sniffed >it. CROW: Hello Siegfried! TOM: Hello Roy! > "Fresh from the Sovereign's hydroponic's bay?" Jackie asked. > "Only the best for my favorite sister," Nicholas said. MIKE: But enough about Marrissa. Take the damn rose. > "Commodore, if you will show me to my quarters... I have a >feeling that my children need to do a little catching up," Jean-Luc >Picard said. TOM: So do the readers. What happened to the plot again? > "Very well, Admiral," Sulu said, as she lead him out of the >transporter room. "I assume since you are on the Enterprise, you are >returning to duty as Commanding Admiral." CROW: Or are you just a pretentious, pan-galactic Merlin Olsen? > "Not until Marrissa goes into labor, that was our deal," Jean-Luc >Picard said. "I get time to recover, and she gets time to try her own >plan, which as you can see, is working quite well." TOM: What plan?!? CROW: Waddling around the Klingon homeworld, showing highlight films and listening to her friends whine about food? > > Nicholas Picard looked around his sister's room. It was neat. >That wasn't like his sister. CROW: So... Jackie's messy? TOM: I think that's the trope he's trying to pound through our skulls, yes. > When the two were seven and five, their >father had been assigned to a new Starbase near Tholian Space. MIKE: For those of you anxiously awaiting your Return To Glory, our warehouse is backordered and we'll notify you when it's in stock. > For >six months, the two had to share a room. Nicholas's side was always >clean. Jackie's side's had been only as neat as required to pass her >father's inspection. CROW: Jackie Lemmon and Nicholas Matthau in "Grumpy Old Cadets". > "Let me guess, fast pre-inspection clean up," Nicholas said. > "Of course," Jackie said, walking over to the replicator. "Your >usual poison, pipsqueak." > "I'd hardly call it poison, Jack." Nicholas said. "So how is >life as an officer?" MIKE: Oh, the usual things all officers go through... like puberty. > "Orange Strawberry Bannana juice, one ice cube; grape soda, third >crushed ice," Jackie ordered. TOM: I bet after a couple of years of incredibly picky ordering habits, Starfleet replicators just snap and start spitting out high-grade heroin. > "Exhausting. I didn't realize how much >work is. I've got three programmers and one programmer analyst under >me. CROW: I can see why she's exhausted. > That means handling duty schedules, performance reviews, and >personality conflicts." > "So your dream is turning unto a nightmare?" Nicholas said, as he >and his sister sat down on her couch. TOM: Nick goes right for the conversational jugular! > "Not quite," Jackie said. "I'm just learning that it's a lot of >hard work too. How is your dream coming?" MIKE: [Nick] Well, Troi's just taken off her bra... > "Aunt Marie seems intent on making sure Rene and I know every >little detail about the vineyard," Nicholas said as he sipped on his >juice. TOM: Wanna know the X, Y, and Z coordinates of the 4,097th bunch of Reislings? "I've tended the vines. We've help repair the bottler, you >know that thing's three centuries old. I've studied how the weather >effects the wine, and what can effect the growth of grapes. MIKE: And I -still- can't get that guest shot on "Spencer Christian's Wine Cellar". > The way >she pushes us, I'm almost glad for the vacation." > "So it's become a nightmare." CROW: Man, the Picards make the Bundy's look like the Flanderses. > "No, I just need an escape every once in a while. Rene visits >his mother's horses, I visit my relatives in Star Fleet," Nicholas >said, swirling his juice in his glass. TOM: That oughta take him about a year and a half. > "Well, you do have better taste," Jackie said. > "I don't know, I think his are better looking," Nicholas said >finishing his drink. MIKE: Oh, Jean-Luc? Joan Crawford on line two. Something about you getting some family counseling, pronto. > "Nicki, you better rephrase that," Jackie said, picking up a >pillow. TOM: And setting it to "Vaporize". > "Why Jack? Can't stand the fact that a horse looks better than >you," Nicholas said. His eyes flashed with mischief as he moved to >stand so the room's round table was between him and her. CROW: Knocking over Lancelot's glass of mead and spilling it in Guenivere's lap. > "Nicki!" The pillow was launched with deadly accuracy. It >impacted Nicholas on the face. It slid down into his arms. TOM: It gasped softly as his hands caressed its contours. > "I do not believe throwing pillows is proper behavior for Star >Fleet Officers," Nicholas said, moving to hold the purple pillow in >his right hand. MIKE: Consider yourself on report, Ensign DeeDee. And get out of my laboratory. > "I'm your older sister, I can hit you with a pillow any time I >want to," Jackie said, picking up the other pillow from the couch, and >moving to throw it. CROW: I think this pillow fight's gotten more setup than the entire Romulan War. > Just as she released it, her own face was hit with Nicholas's >pillow. Hers missed him. "And as you little brother, I'll be sure to >return the favor." TOM: If they both announce they're not left-handed, I'm outta here. > The two began to circle the table pillows in hand. Occasionally, >they'd throw at each other. However, each exchange ended with them >once again circling, pillow at the ready. Some time during the >exchange, their father entered. Neither noticed. MIKE: They were busy carving "I WAS BEATEN BY MY SIBLING" in each others' flesh with rusty razors. > Jean-Luc Picard observed his children at play. It wasn't >something he was able to see often. Jackie and Nicholas tended to act >more grown up than they should. It was probably the example of their >much older sister that did it. CROW: Gee, you think? TOM: Be gentle. It's a consequence in a Ratliff story. It's probably frightened and lonely. CROW: Which reminds me... there's something I want to show you guys. [Door Sequence] SOL Bridge. There's a large flipchart easel type thing with a diagram on it, screen left. Crow stands in front of it with a pointer.] MIKE: What's up, Crow? CROW: I'm noticing a trend in recent Ratliff works. A terrifying and disturbing trend with implications that stretch far beyond our little satellite. I call that trend "characterization retcon". TOM: Sounds serious, buddy. What is it? CROW: Let me give you a hypothetical example. Let's say, hypothetically, there's a person named Mellie. Now, Mellie is a babe. MIKE: Crow, this doesn't make any sense. CROW: It doesn't have to, Mike. This is a hypothetical example. Now, Mellie is a babe. And this "Mellie", let's say she meets up with some other being, say, an "Odie". Odie is also a babe. TOM: You mean the dog from Garfield? That doesn't make any sense either. CROW: Not the dog from Garfield, and again, it doesn't have to make any sense. It's a -hypothetical example-. Now let's say that when these two babes meet, chaos spreads throughout the known universe. MIKE: Crow, that makes even LESS sense than it did before. CROW: IT'S A HYPOTHETICAL EXAMPLE! HYPOTHETICAL EXAMPLE! What part of the phrase "HYPOTHETICAL EXAMPLE" don't you understand, meat puppet? MIKE: OK, OK, Crow, calm down. Fine. Mellie is a babe, Odie is a babe, they meet, chaos erupts, none of it makes any sense, hypothetical example, stop caring. Is that pretty much the gist of it? CROW: Right. Now, flash forward a couple of weeks. Tom has a realization. TOM: Is this my cue? CROW: Duh. TOM: Right. Hey, Crow, that doesn't make any sense! MIKE: Tom... hypotheti... CROW: [Interrupting] Let the bot speak, Mike. TOM: As I was saying... [glares at Mike] That doesn't make any sense. Two babes meeting isn't nearly enough to cause chaos to erupt on a universal level. CROW: Hey, Tom, you're right! Now, Mike. At this point, you agree, don't you, that I'm pretty much screwed? Here I am going on about babes and chaos, and it's pretty much unworkable. It doesn't make any sense. What should I do? MIKE: Admit it's a hypothetical example and move on? CROW: WRONG! I use the power of "characterization retcon" that I learned from Ratliff, and now explain that the chaos was in fact actually caused by the meeting of THREE babes, Mellie, Odie, and Jen, and it was actually always like that all along forever and ever even though I never mentioned it before and anyway maybe I'll go back and rewrite my hypothetical example so that Jen was there all along and I'll erase the older version so it never happened. [deep breath] There. See? TOM: Wait, Crow, are you implying what I think you're implying? That Ratliff... MIKE: No, it can't be. It's too horrible to even consider that Ratliff... CROW: I'm afraid so, guys. Stephen Ratliff has a promising career ahead of him. As a DC Comics editor. MIKE: Nooooooo! [Lights flash] CROW: Even worse: We've got fanfic siiiiign! TOM: The horror... the horror. [Door Sequence] > But Jackie was only twelve, and >Nicholas ten. A little bit of play was expected of them. Of course, >running around Jackie's quarters throwing pillows was not really >acceptable behavior, but he would let them get away with it just a >little longer. MIKE: Before forcing them to engage in play-type behaviors duly approved by God, The Queen, and Marrissa. > Jackie's next throw missed her little brother and hit her father >instead. She didn't notice, since she was dodging Nicholas's throw. CROW: Yet another incident of "friendly fire" in Marrissa's happy Starfleet. >"Jacqueline Marie Picard, what did I tell you about throwing things >inside of your quarters," Jean-Luc Picard said with mock seriousness. >Both siblings turned toward their father. Their expressions were of >false innocence, seemly pasted on their faces. MIKE: Real emotions are for the enlisted men! > "Don't do it," Jackie replied, hiding the other pillow behind her >back. "But, I'm not under your roof any more." > "Think again Jackie," Jean-Luc said. "As Commanding Admiral, all >starships are under my roof." CROW: And therefore my surveillance of female officers' sonic showers is completely justified. > "But father, you are currently relieved of duty for medical >reasons, and our older sister holds that position until you return," >Nicholas contributed. TOM: [Jean-Luc] Goddamned barracks lawyer! I should have you shot! > "You do have a point," Jean-Luc said, as Jackie scored a direct >hit in the face with her pillow. Jean-Luc Picard responded quickly, >capturing his daughter and picking up the girl in his arms. "And you, >young lady should have known better. Now what should I do with you?" MIKE: Put her down, end this scene, and get on with the plot? > "Dad, you're not suppose to lift heavy objects," Nicholas said. > "Did you just call your sister heavy, Nicholas?" Jean-Luc said. >Nicholas nodded. "You're not suppose to comment of a woman's weight, >young man. Even if she is a little heavy." CROW: She's a much better hacker than Ensign Gomez. MIKE: Who? TOM: Ensign Gomez. He's from the "Non-Jackie's Quarters" part of the story. You remember. "Fatty". > "Daddy, I'm not a little girl that you can carry to the swimming >hole and toss in when her temper gets out of control," Jackie said. > "You have grown some," Jean-Luc said letting her down. > > The Klingon High Counsel returned to the main chamber after an >extensive debate in an executive session. CROW: Hi. I'm the plot. Remember me? Hope you enjoyed our little pillow fight interlude. Now, more Klingons talking. > Admiral Saavik, Admiral >Marrissa Picard, and Captain Jay Gordon stood waiting. Emperor >Kahless headed the procession, taking his place in the ceremonial >throne. MIKE: He'd had a big ceremonial burrito for lunch, you see. > By recent tradition, he would not speak on policy maters. >That was for Chancellor Kern to handle. The Counsel filed in behind >the Chancellor who took up station to the right of the Emperor on a >slightly lower dais. CROW: The Chancellor was exactly 1.28 meters to the right of Emperor Kahless, who was positioned exactly 1.28 meters to the left of the Chancellor, only .32 meters higher up, making the Chancellor nearly one third of a meter lower than Kahless. > Kern waited until all the council was in place before announcing, >"It is the uncontested decision of the Klingon Empire that we join the >war, effective immediately. MIKE: Wait a second... this is it, guys! CROW: What do you mean, "it"? MIKE: The Klingon decision. The whole point of the story. The fate of the galaxy rests on the very next sentence Ratliff writes! TOM: That's it? Here? Now? This is all there is? One more sentence, and then it's all denouement? MIKE: Yep. Brace yourselves, guys. The story's dramatic peak is coming up... right... NOW! > We have chosen to enter the war on the >side of the United Federation of Planets. MIKE: There. Marrissa won. > The Romulan representative >will be given 24 hours to leave the Empire. If at that time they have >not left the bounds of the Empire, they will be considered a hostile >vessel of war." TOM: If, however, they do make it out of the Empire in time, they will still be considered a bunch of pointy-eared doodyheads. > "Understood, honorable council leader," Admiral Saavik said. CROW: [Saavik] (cough) (cough) Dumbass! (cough) >"But know this, you decision will be the undoing of the Klingon >Empire." Saavik turned and left the chamber." MIKE: Taking her extraneous quotation mark with her in a show of disgust. > "Admiral Picard, let us plan our strategy so our entry may be one >of great impact," Kern said. CROW: That's the single most pompous come-on line in the history of the universe. > It wasn't more than five minutes later, that the Osaka >interrupted the meeting with a frantic call. TOM: MAYDAY! MAYDAY! WE HAVE A WARP CORE BREACH! DO YOU HAVE ANY GREY POUPON! > "Osaka to Admiral Picard >and Captain Gordon. We've got a fleet of at least forty Romulan >warbirds lead entering the system." MIKE: Lead? They must be Starfleet Battles miniatures! Sound the alarm! > "I have to return to my ship," Marrissa excused herself. "I >suggest you call for all the ships you've got. If this is anything >like what they did with us, we've got a problem. Picard to Osaka, two >to beam directly to the bridge." CROW: It would be undignified to have Marrissa waddling slowly to her command chair, I suppose. > The two Star Fleet Officers dematerialized. The council quickly >moved to get to their own commands. MIKE: Except for Kahless, who, well, wasn't quite done on the Ceremonial Throne. > > On the bridge of the Osaka, Marrissa moved take a seat in the >command chair. A twinge of pain crossed her face. "Ops, send the >following message, channel two, 'It's Friday,'" she ordered. TOM: Hooray! An ultracompetent, oversexed, adult Heinlein female is here to save the day! MIKE: Don't get your hopes up. It's probably just a dumb code phrase loosely inspired by Kirk's "By The Book" thing in Wrath of Khan. > "But sir, it's Tuesday," Ops said. CROW: [Ops] Which means you owe me for that hamburger, Marrissa. Pay up. > "I know," Marrissa said. "Jay, I need a tactical overview of the >system." Jay handed her a PADD. "Thanks. Put the Romulans on >screen." CROW: Any tactical overview is dramatically improved by actually including your enemies. > A fleet of over seventy Warbirds appeared. "How did all those >ships get this far into the Klingon Empire?" Jay wondered. TOM: And how did they cram all of that graham? > "Chancellor Kern is hailing the Romulans," Ops announced. "He's >asking them why. No reply from the Romulans. He's ordered the >Klingon third fleet to attack." MIKE: Yeah. I bet the first and second fleets are back at homeworld, making sure Kern has his scaly, ridged, bureaucratic hinder covered. > "Take us in, CONN," Marrissa ordered. "Ops, same channel, 'no >unlucky number.'" CROW: Lovely. Marrissa spends two days in "intense" negotiations on the Klingon homeworld, and the only intrigue in the entire story comes from Marrissa's goofy coded message to set up her prearranged, preordained victory. > > As the Romulans began engaging the Klingon Fleet, to the Romulan >rear, another fleet appeared. It was not a Romulan one. MIKE: It was not a Klingon one. TOM: It was not a Gorn one. CROW: It was not crewed by buxom, naked women. MIKE: It was not made entirely of creme brulee. > These ships >all bore Star Fleet Insignia. It consisted of an even hundred Defiant >Class vessels. TOM: AKA The Defiant One...Hundred. CROW: AKA Defiant Ex Machina. > As the Defiant Class vessels opened fire, an >announcement came over channel two. "This is Vice Admiral Benjamin >Sisko on the USS Defiant commanding the Thirteenth Fleet, reporting as >ordered, sir." MIKE: Hey, Sisko! It really -is- Deus Ex Machina. CROW: Guess Stephen won't be able to sell -this- story to Pocket Books for a tidy Prophet. > Seventy Romulan Warbirds, one Warhawk Cruiser verse the eighty- >one ships of various classes of the Klingon Third fleet, the hundred >ships of Star Fleet's Thirteenth Fleet, and the USS Osaka. It wasn't >exactly a fair fight. TOM: Just the way Our Heroine likes it. Overwhelming odds, easy massacre. > Now if Star Fleet had only had the Osaka, then >the Romulans would have had a chance. In fact, they probably would >have won. However, they were sandwiched between the Klingons and Star >Fleet. It was not a pretty sight. MIKE: Geez, Steve. No need to rub it in. The Romulans are screwed. We get it. Move on to the rampant bloodletting so we can find out what happened to poor Ensign Gomez. > > While the Osaka wove in and out of the edge of the battle, >Marrissa grimaced in pain. "Jay, I think I better head to Sickbay," >she stated. > "Why?" Jay said, his attention on the viewscreen as the Osaka >dove toward another warbird. CROW: Jay was confused. His wife usually reveled in the spray of green blood, rapidly crystallized by the cold vacuum of space, that accompanied each of her horribly lopsided victories. > "I think I'm going into labor," Marrissa said as a contraction >over took her. MIKE: The USS Contraction was one of the new, faster Uterus class starships, and easily outpaced the Osaka. > "What!" Jay said. "You aren't due for another week." > "I know," Marrissa said. "I better get down there." > Jay helped his wife up and toward the turbolift. "Commander >Masato, you have the bridge." he ordered before the turbolift door >closed. CROW: And so, the circle is complete. TOM: Out of death, comes new life. MIKE: Out of implausible coincidence, another Marrissa Story draws to a close. > >Chapter Eight MIKE: Home stretch, guys. TOM: Great! I can't wait to find out what happens with the battle, and with Marrissa's pregnancy, and the Klingons... > Commander O'Brien and Ensign Picard overheard the conversation in >Engineering from his office. TOM: ...ah, crap. We've switched subplots again. > It was the usual quiet chatter around >the main situation monitor. Of course the chatter wasn't on the usual >subjects. MIKE: WHO IS ENSIGN SOZE?!?!?! > Usually one heard about the officer's children, or where >the Captain and First Officer had been caught lately. CROW: In other words, alternatingly boring as hell or incredibly revolting. > "Did you hear about Ensign Gomez?" TOM: I heard he's fat. > "I heard he got caught hacking." CROW: I heard he's a big fat hacker. > "Probably was trying to that ice cream cone that Doc Johnson >prohibited." MIKE: 'Cause he's fat. Gomez can't stop eating ice cream. He's like a big fat ice cream eating machine. > "I don't know, Security has been looking for someone rather hard >lately." CROW: And Gomez isn't hard, he's soft. Because he's fat. And he can't stop eating ice cream. > "Nah, Gomez doesn't have the personality of a spy." TOM: His personality's more of the big fat ice cream eating type. And he's a fatty boombalatty. > "And like you're such a good judge of character." MIKE: Yeah, I remember when you said Gomez wasn't fat. How wrong you were. > "What's that suppose to mean?" CROW: Are you saying I'm fat, like Gomez? Take it back! > With that, Miles O'Brien entered Main Engineering. "That's >enough folks, we've got a ship to run. Ensign Dooley, what's the >status of the repairs on the aft starboard third phaser array?" TOM: "The repairs are fat... I mean..." > "Finished sir." > > Jean-Luc Picard was enjoying a nice cup of Earl Grey. It was >nice to have some free time every once in a while. MIKE: Celebrate the moments of your life, Jean-Luc. > Commanding Admiral >Star Fleet was a ten year appointment, and he was only in his second >year. Already the demands of the job had gotten to him on occasion. CROW: That one time, with the phaser rifle, and the clock tower... best we forget that. >So the injury was not a totally unwelcome event. He did hate to spend >so much time recovering, but it had given him time to get to know his >son a little better. TOM: Of course, Nicholas could never mean as much to Jean-Luc as his 1/8 size clone of himself... Mini-Pi. > Nicholas had always been good at getting him to >relax. The boy seemed to know just when he needed a break. MIKE: That's when Nick would break Picard off a piece of that Kit-Kat bar. > Now his daughter Jackie however, that girl, though he loved her >dearly, could drive him distraction. She was constantly getting into >things that a girl her age shouldn't. CROW: Like her dad's primo collection of Venusian hard-core VR porn. > She'd snuck into classes at the >Academy on a wide range of subjects, skipping regular school to do so. TOM; Those wacky Picards. Even when the troublemakers cut classes, it's to attend more difficult classes. >After several incidents of the young girl being taken back to her >school after bringing herself to the attention of the instructor with >a question (who more often than not admitted that the question was a >good one) MIKE: Well, except for John Houseman. He always ripped her a new one. > and being returned to her school, Jean-Luc had given up, and >put her on a course of independent study. Several Academy >instructors had volunteered to teach her, much to Jean-Luc's surprise. TOM: Baldy's really kind of thick, isn't he. It takes him a whole two hours to figure out Q's little time travel conundrum, and that's WITH lots of hints, and now, he's still caught off guard by the incredible probability nexus that surrounds his female offspring. >She had only been seven when he'd given up. Now she was twelve and he >worried about her getting interested in other things too early, like >boys. She was like her older sister Marrissa. CROW: Attracted to ineffective wussyboys and willfully ignorant of even the basics of contraception? > They may not have >shared any blood, but the two were too alike sometimes. Both liked to >push the bounds of the expected. Marrissa had turned out fairly well, >but he still worried about Jackie. MIKE: Marrissa still might decide to just devour her on a whim. > His thoughts were interrupted by a sound coming from a nearby >wall. Someone was opening in the wall. TOM: He could hear the whirring of the opener as it went to work on the cans of beans. "Damn Jeffries' Hoboes," Picard thought as he sipped his tea. > He had been briefed about the >spy on the Enterprise, and knew of his daughter's plans. Jean-Luc >Picard had been a Starship Captain for more than four decades. Such >people are very rarely caught totally unprepared. MIKE: This, however, was one of those times. Ergo, Picard wet 'em. > So when the computer >panel began displaying classified data, he was ready. Having a >daughter who spent her early years taking everything apart had it's >uses. Two presses upward, and the cover was off. CROW: Steve's really got some serious "allocation of positional information" issues, doesn't he. > His rank bar was >placed precisely across a small section of contacts. A shower of >sparks went off. The panel wouldn't be used for quite sometime. Some >movement was heard in the jefferies tube behind the wall. TOM: It sounded like the Hokey Pokey, done in full Klingon armor. > Then out in >the corridor, a yelp. A familiar yelp. It was Nicholas. > Out into the corridor, Jean-Luc ran, heedless of the fact that he >had no weapon. Nicholas was being held by a male vulcanoid in >Engineering yellow. A phaser was pressed to his head. "Stay right >there Admiral, unless you want this boy hurt." MIKE: Well, he's not Marrissa, so, you know, fire away. > "What do you want?" Jean-Luc asked. "It's not like you can get >off this ship." > "That's exactly what I intend to do," the spy said. TOM: [Picard] "Oh... well, never mind then." > At that Jackie came around the bend, her phaser drawn. "And how >are you going to do that?" she said. "I've notified Security. >Lieutenant Sachs won't let you go anywhere. And if you just happen to >steal a ship, Commodore Sulu won't let you go much further, Ensign >Silvok, if that is you real name." CROW: "Silvok"? Of course that's not his real name. What kind of pseudonym does it take to make Security suspicious, anyway? "Catchme Imaspy"? > "I don't think they'll want me to harm the Admiral's son," Silvok >said. "And it is my real name." CROW: Liar. > "It's a shame then," Jackie said. "Too bad you don't have a >creditable threat." > "What do you mean, I've got a phaser to your brother's head!" >Silvok said. MIKE: "Yeah, but I don't -like- him." > "He does have a point," Jean-Luc said. TOM: "Dad, you're NOT helping here." > "Well, that's a phaser stolen from armory panel number fifty >five," Jackie said. "All phasers shipboard have an automatic disable >circuit. The ship is currently programmed to disable phasers not held >by authorized personnel. Currently, that's only security personnel >like myself." MIKE: Would you like me to explain any more of our secret security procedures to you, Mr. Spy, or do you want to surrender? > Silvok moved to take Nicholas into more physically threatening >position, but that was the opening Jackie needed. She fired. It >caught the spy in his left shoulder. He slump, then fell to the >floor, unconscience. CROW: Well, duh, he's a Romulan spy. Of course he wouldn't have a conscience. > "Thanks Jack," Nicholas said, rubbing where the phaser had been >pressing into his head. > "You're welcome, Nicki," Jackie said. "Jackie Picard to >Security, I've captured our spy. Please send some officers to take >Ensign Silvok to the brig." MIKE: Think we should let Fatty Gomez off the hook? TOM: Nah. Let him stew. It'll be good for his giant waistline. > "Jackie, is there really such a control in phasers," Jean-Luc >said. "I don't remember one." CROW: "Of course, most days I can't remember my own name... didn't I have some tea?" > "There is a power level restricter, but nothing that specific," >Jackie replied. "But Ensign Silvok was an Warp Engineer, so I didn't >think he'd know much about hand phaser design." TOM: Of course, he was also a ROMULAN SPY, so maybe that little pillow fight with Nicholas bugged you more than you realize. > "You mean you risked my life on a bluff," Nicholas said. > "You can't argue with success," Jackie said, as four security >officers arrived to take Ensign Silvok to the brig. CROW: Well, you can argue with -stupid- success... > "Oh really?" > "Nicholas, don't hit your sister." ALL: Waaaa waaaa waaaa waaaaaaaaaaa.... > In the Osaka's Sickbay, Doctor Beverly Picard was preparing to >deliver her second grandchild. Marrissa had been an almost model >patient. MIKE: However, any minor imperfections would be ignored and glossed over for the safety of all present. > She did plainly want it to be over with, but she hadn't made >any threats on her husband's anatomy, and in Doctor Picard's >experience that was a good sign. CROW: Mr. Ratliff? I've got Bill Cosby's lawyers on Line 2. > "Jay," Marrissa said between contractions. > "Yes Marrissa," Jay replied. TOM: Also between contractions, which was odd. MIKE: Maybe he had some of Kahless' burrito. > "We're never doing this AGAIN," she said as a contraction took >her. TOM: "Screw the author's hangups. I'm going on the pill!" > "One more push hard, Marrissa," the Doctor said. Moments later >after two hours of pushing and grunting, little Sarah Alara Picard was >born. She cried loudly as the doctor took her to clean her up. CROW: Now, now, have a little patience, Sarah. We can't have you getting the Kobayashi Maru test seat all messy. > > Soon Marrissa was laying in recovery, her daughter in her arms, >and Jay holding her in a protective embrace. "She's beautiful," >Marrissa said, staring at the little baby girl sucking at her breast. BOTS: AAAAAAAAH! MIKE: Now, now, it's perfectly natural part of... DEAR GOD! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! > "Just like her mother," Jay said. > "Jay." > "Yes Mara." > "About what I said earlier, forget it," Marrissa said. TOM: Contraception is for the proles. Let's breed like rabbits! > "What did you say earlier?" Jay said, kissing his wife. > "Oh, and Jay, next time I have to leave the bridge, stay and >finish the battle." CROW: Yeah, it's not like you had any real part in this beyond the donation of your seed. > >Orders of the Day, Star Fleet Command. >Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard resuming command. MIKE: But... for how long? For.... how long? >Commodore Demora Sulu promoted to Rear Admiral and reassigned to take >command of the newest Nova Class starship, the Lexington and the >Twenty-First Fleet. CROW: Interesting literary device, using the promotion of Sulu's daughter to bookend your story. > >The Excelsior, the Lake Superior, and the George C. Scott reassigned >from the First Fleet to the Twenty-First. Captain Hikaru Sulu to >serve as Executive Officer of the said fleet. TOM: The old man under the young woman. It's just like Hollywood. > >The Georgia, the Damocles, and the Scott Jamison to join First Fleet. >Commander Masoto assigned as Captain of the Osaka. MIKE: So, as epilogue, Stephen moves the pushpins around on his homemade, wall-size "Map Of The Future Federation", and tells us about it. > >Captain Jay Gordon promoted to Commodore and assigned Command of the >First Fleet, per recommendations. Admiral Marrissa Picard placed on >maternity leave, one month. CROW: By which point her daughter will be totally self-sufficient and ready to take command of the Fifteenth Fleet. >Commendations issued, Battle of Kronos: Admiral Marrissa Picard; Vice >Admiral Benjamin Sisko, commanding Thirteenth Fleet; Captains Leedson, >Harrison, and Duncan of the Monitor, Merrmac, and Dreadnought >respectively; Commander Shinji Masoto, First Officer, USS Osaka. MIKE: It's like the SAT's. Medals:Starfleet Officers::Fish:Shamu >Commendations issued, Battle of Star Fort 16: Captains Savek and >Tassadar of the George C. Scott and the Swiftsure. CROW: Was that even in this story? TOM: I don't think so, but this stuff's gotta get taken care of somewhere, right? MIKE: Yep. Can't let your fictional characters go without their fictional medals. >General Watches: Warhawk Bloodfire, escaped from Battle of Kronos. >Expected to be damaged. Capture if possible. Be on the look out for >any new Warhawk class vessels. A mine field has been discovered near >Star Fort 12. Indications of other mining activities have been >spotted. Please report any signs to Admiral Epperly, acting head of >Star Fleet Operations. CROW: Oh, I get it! Stephen's trying to show us that despite the vast, cosmic events going on around us, there's still a lot of mind- numbing, tedious detail to be remembered. > >End General Orders from Commanding Admiral Star Fleet, aboard USS >Enterprise. MIKE: And now, the specific orders. >Epilogue TOM: You mean, "Even More Epilogue". > Admiral Marrissa Picard spent the next month getting to know her >new daughter. TOM: Assessing her. Testing her. Ensuring she was worthy to carry the name. > Her husband took over command of the Enterprise and the >First Fleet. Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard spent the time on the >Enterprise, with his children, commanding the fleet. CROW: Sending out general orders by the metric buttload! > The addition of the Klingon Empire sped the end of the Romulan >Star Empire. The attack on Kronos insured that only it's complete >surrender and end would end the war. TOM: I think at this point, Ratliff's just taunting us by using the word "end" over and over and over again without actually ending the story. > The Klingons would except no >less. In that month that she was off, the noose tightened on the >Romulans. MIKE: Slaughtering Romulans... while Marrissa stays at home? Heads will roll. > When Marrissa returned to duty, the Federation and the Klingons >were ready for the final blow, the capture of Romulas and Remus. It >was hers to lead, in our finial volume of the last Romulan War, After >the Storm we'll tell that story. CROW; Tune in next week for another exciting installment of "True Stories of the Starfleet Patrol"! >Professor John P Hereomise III TOM: Here, omise! Here, omise omise omise! >History Department Chair >Professor of late 24th Century History >University of Essex. MIKE: He's a real specialist. He covers July, 2399 to December, 2399. > >Appendix > >Cast in order of appearance: (positions in order of obtaining them) TOM: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the 54th annual Stephen Ratliff Memorial Name and Rank Parade! >Name Rank Position >Marrissa Picard ADM Commanding USS Enterprise NCC-1701-F > Commanding First Fleet > Commanding Admiral, Star Fleet CROW: It's really a beautiful day for a parade here in sunny Virginia, Tom. And here's our first float, heading up the parade, as she does every year, it's Marrissa! >Kern son of Mog Gen. Chancellor of the Klingon High Council >Jay Gordon CPT Executive Officer, First Fleet > Adjutant to the Commanding Admiral > Commanding Officer, USS Osaka > First Officer, USS Enterprise NCC-1701-F MIKE: The Kern float's a little small this year, but budget cuts in the Klingon Empire limited them to just the one rank. Luckily, the lavish Jay Gordon float follows closely behind! CROW: Impressive. Where DID they find that many bland, pastel flowers? >Jacqueline Picard Ens. Computer Security Officer, USS Enterprise >Saavik Jeric Adm. Commander of the Warhawk Bloodhawk >Sanok Cdr. First Officer of the Warhawk Bloodhawk >Shayna Sachs Lt. Chief of Security USS Enterprise > Second Officer TOM: It's always nice to see these young, wholesome ladies waving to throngs of cheering passersby. >Miles O'Brien LCD Chief Engineer, USS Enterprise >Demora Sulu Com Commanding USS Osaka > Commanding USS Enterprise > Commanding First Fleet CROW: And making their triumphant return to the Name and Rank Parade this year, it's the Trek Cameo Marching Band! >Tillek Cent Admiral Saavik's personal bodyguard and > old friend >Kartog Cons Member of the Klingon High Council MIKE: And as he's done so many years before, Kartog delights us all by dropping his pants and mooning the crowd. Way to go, Kartog! >Jacquelynn Gordon Ens. Officer USS Osaka, sister of Jay >Beverly Picard Adm. Chief of Star Fleet Medical > Chief Medical Officer, USS Osaka >Jean-Luc Picard FAD Commanding Admiral Star Fleet (on medical > leave) >Nicholas Picard son of Jean-Luc and Beverly Picard (age 10) TOM: And last, but certainly not least, it's the acrobatic magic of The Flying Picards! MIKE: Well, it's been another great year for the 54th annual Stephen Ratliff Memorial Name and Rank Parade. On behalf of my fellow commentators Thomas Servo and Kathie Lee Crow, I'd like to wish you and yours a very happy Marrissa Story. Good night, and Ratliff bless. >-- >Stephen Ratliff CS Major, Radford University. >sratliff@runet.edu Radford, Virginia 24142-7496 >rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc's polite target. Marrissa Stories Author >http://www.cs.runet.edu/~sratliff/ >http://www.cs.runet.edu/~sratliff/FAQs/ FAQ Maintainer for ASC. >http://www.cs.runet.edu/~sratliff/ascindex/ Index Maintainer too. >also at: http://archive.nu/ >"Put down the pencil. Put down the pencil, Mr. Russell." -- Dr. Wychoff, DS9's Shadows and Symbols CROW: Pull that .sig over, son. You're seven lines over the legal limit. [Door Sequence] SOL Bridge. Crow has a fake womb strapped to his abdomen. Servo has a pair of Spock ears stuck to his head, and is wearing a green smock type thing. Gypsy stands behind Crow, a plastic sword in her mouth. MIKE: What's all this about now, guys. TOM: The First Robot War, remember? We're still at a stage of even advantages, and the fate of the satellite hinges on who you side with! MIKE: Oh, alright. State your cases. CROW: I am Crow T. Robot, gold-netted vixen, captain of the load pan bay, maintainer of the bottle cap collection, and heir to that leftover pastrami in the fridge. And I say that any Mike who doesn't side with me is a big doodyhead! MIKE: Hey, watch it... GYPSY: Stand back, buster, or I'll pants you! MIKE: OK, OK... TOM: I am Tom Servo. I am the son of a preacher man and my brother ain't heavy, he's the Praetor. I destroyed 4,000 Yllabian Space Guppies just the other day playing Defender II on that cool compilation pack. You know, the one with Joust 2 on it? MIKE: So you are a warrior, not some mindless bureaucrat. I like you. TOM: Side with us, or we'll throw our fleets against your phasers until we're all dead! CROW: I like to lose on purpose! MIKE: Enough! You are both pathetic excuses for warriors. I declare that the First Robot Wars have been won by Gypsy! GYPSY: Hooray! TOM: What a ripoff. You'll pay for this, Nelson. Know this. Your decision will be the undoing of this satellite. GYPSY: Oh, bite me, Tom. MIKE: What she said. Anyway, the Adults Crew are calling. [Castle Forrester] In the background, Observer and Bobo are both bent over large trash bins. The sound of vomiting can be heard throughout the entire scene. PEARL: Wow, he really did write one. "A Different Path". Marrissa... Wesley... related... pregnancy... pink... [sound of retching increases] PEARL: Make room, guys, I'll be over there in a second. [shudders] As for you, Nelson, this little cakewalk was nothing compared to what... urp... what... what... [Pearl runs over to garbage cans] [END CREDITS] MSTing By: Bryan Lambert Original By: Stephen Ratliff Special Thanks To: - The Elite HGI Proofreading Squad, aka Jen Corley, Jamie Plummer, and Mike Crasso - The makers of the Palm III and QED, which allowed me to riff on the road. - The makers of "PocketRogue" for the Palm III, which delayed the release of this MSTing by several months. - Fatty Gomez, for making us laugh about lunch. Again. Mystery Science Theater 3000 and all associated memes are the property of Best Brains, Inc. and are used without permission. Star Trek and all its associated memes are the property of Paramount, and are used without permission. The rest of the original story is Stephen's, and is used with permission. Everything else is mine. For a slightly different take on the MSTing experience, visit the new home of MST-Homegame at http://homegame.org. You'll be glad you did.