Away From Home 2 - The Away Mission
MiSTed: "Away From Home, Book 2: The Away Mission"
Group MiSTing by Mike Barklage (editor)
Petrea Mitchell
Todd Gilbert
This is a continuation of the MiSTing of "Away From Home" by Stephen Ratliff.
If you have not read part 1, I strongly suggest that you do so before reading this.
As always, comments are welcome. Please send e-mail to barklage@ucsu.colorado.edu.
I will forward your notes to the other two writers, Todd and Petrea.
6...5...4...3...2...1...*...
[Mike and the bots enter the theater.]
CROW: Exhibit R: Stephen Ratliff wore one of those Tor Johnson masks for Halloween in 1983!
MIKE: That's enough, Crow.
> Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
> From: sratliff@ruacad.ac.runet.edu (Stephen Ratliff)
> Subject: Away From Home Message
> Date: Fri, 31 Mar 1995 01:50:47 GMT
>
> Message from the author of Away From Home.
TOM: Your author is away from home. Please leave a message.
> Away From Home's first section (the Field Trip) having been
> completely posted, I now turn to it's second section, the Away Mission.
> For those of you trying to keep up with my story's time frame,
CROW: ...I would recommend a severe beating.
> The Field Trip occurs at the end of season 5. The Away Mission occurs before
> Generations, and after All Good Things and my story Who Q? Where Q?
TOM: So it's a few years later, then.
MIKE: Any bets on whether Marissa's first period is over yet?
> Note to the archivist : The Parts of The Away Mission will be labeled
> starting with 11. An interlude will be part 8 and parts 9 and 10 do not exist.
CROW: It's Ratliff's version of the 18 minute gap.
> ______ Stephen Ratliff
> _-' . .`-_
> |/ / .. . ' .\ \| Radford Unversity Student
> |/ / ..\ \| (Sophmore)
> \|/ |: . ._|_ .. . | \|/ email:
> \/ | _|_ .| . .: | \/ sratliff@rucs2.sunlab.cs.runet.edu
> \ / |. | . . .| \ / (perfered) or
TOM: "Perfered"? Ratliff can't even spell his own .sig right!
> \||| . . . _|_ .|||/ sratliff@ruacad.ac.runet.edu
> \__| \ . :. .|. ./ |__/
> __| \_ . .. _/ |__ home address:
> __| `-______-' |__ 5249 Lakeland Drive
> -,____ ____,- Roanoke, Va 24018
> ---' `---
>
>
> From: sratliff@ruacad.ac.runet.edu (Stephen Ratliff)
> Date: Tue, 11 Apr 1995 17:31:59 GMT
> Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
> Subject: Away From Home parts 9-11 The Away Mission parts 1-3
MIKE: And "Away From Home" sweeps the double-header over "Away Mission"
by scores of 9-1 and 11-3!
>
> . S T A R T R E K |part| | | | | |
> . THE NEXT GENERATION |----| () | () | () | () | |
> . Away from Home |9-11|/&&\|/&&\|/&&\|/&&\| |
> . Book Two : |----| ## | ## | ## | ## | |
> . The Away Mission |1-3 | $$ | $$ | $$ | $$ | |
> . by Stephen Ratliff ==============================
CROW: Four voodoo dolls and a blank? I think that pays 20 to 1.
> Chapter One
> ~~~~~~~~~~~
TOM: *sigh* Here we go again. <to others> Good luck, guys.
> Commander William T. Riker was on his way to Engineering when
> Marrissa caught up to him and called out, "Commander Riker."
MIKE: But he wasn't sure who she was addressing.
> "Yes, Lieutenant," Riker said as Marrissa pulled along side.
CROW: Pardon me, would you have any Grey Poupon?
> "I've been meaning to ask you why I haven't been on one of your away
> teams yet," She asked. "According to the Computer I am the only one who hasn't."
TOM: Maybe because you're 12 and not a real officer?
> "I never thought I would be this close to 100% away team
> parceapation," Riker commented.
MIKE: <Riker> I've got to start excluding more crewmembers.
> "Refresh my memory, what are your qualifications, Lieutenant."
CROW: <Marrissa> For one, I can spell "participation"...
> "I'm seventh in the phaser accuracy ratings," Marrissa replied.
TOM: Out of 1400 of the "best" officers in Starfleet. Right.
> "Commander Data list me as a specialist in Trakce and Feudal culture.
MIKE: ...but not grammar.
CROW: That's nice, but we're in Vulcan space right now.
> You are the only pilot on board with higher ratings."
TOM: No wonder they keep losing shuttlecraft.
> "I will keep you in mind," Riker said.
MIKE: <Riker> ...but I won't select you.
> "Why did you come to me? Surely your father could have asked me to take you on a mission."
CROW: <Marrissa> He could have, but he's dead, DEAD, *DEAD*!!!
> "Two reasons, one I prefer to avoid having my father intervening
> on my behalf," Marrissa stated.
TOM: <Marrissa> ...except when I don't get my way.
> "And two it looks better on my record if if I ask for more and different duties."
MIKE: Bet it doesn't look so good when she gets turned down.
> "Be careful you don't take on too much," Riker said. "You can only do so much."
CROW: You can only save one universe at a time, sweetie.
> "I'm not stupid," Marrissa said.
TOM: <Marissa> I'm mental, not stupid.
> "I carefully check my schedule
> before asking for any duty. It keeps Counselor Troi off my tail."
ALL: <clear throats>
> "Good idea," Riker replied.
MIKE: <Riker> I wish Counselor Troi was on *my* tail...
> "By the way who are the people
> above you in the phaser ratings and how did you get up their so fast?"
CROW: By using the phaser.
TOM: <evil Marrissa voice> Now you die and we *all* move up in rank!
> "Data is number one followed by, Guinan,
ALL: Guinan?!
MIKE: So *that's* why there are never any brawls in Ten Forward.
> Worf, yourself, my father, Doctor Crusher
ALL: DR. CRUSHER?!
TOM: I'm quickly losing my faith in the competence of this crew.
CROW: You had faith?!
> and myself," Marrissa informed.
> "I didn't realize that the Doctor was so high in the rankings," Riker commented.
MIKE: <Riker> For some reason, that turns me on.
> "The Doctor and I have been working on improving our phaser
> rankings," Marrissa said.
TOM: I stole some stuff from Sickbay and she's been hunting me down ever since.
> "So that's your self-improvement project of the month," Riker remarked.
CROW: <bored> Uh huh... uh huh... <quiet> oh please, God, get her away from me!
> "Last months, this months is putting up with insulting ensigns," Marrissa said.
> "Why?"
MIKE: <Riker> Why not just punch their lights out?
> "They keep calling me Risa," Marrissa said with an under-tone of
> frustration. "Their are only two people alive who can call me that."
TOM: And they're both dead.
> "Is their a name you liked that people use to call you?" Riker inquired.
CROW: Yes, I like "Your Holiness".
> "My natural father use to call me Princess," Marrissa mused.
MIKE: And he called himself King Ludwig.
> "Mom use to think it was funny for some reason."
TOM: But Mom was never the same after the accident.
> "Interesting, by the way who are the people who can get away
> with calling you Risa," Riker asked.
> "The Captain and Jay," Marrissa replied.
MIKE: Weren't they an old band from the 70s?
> "Jay? Why him?"
CROW: He has certain... pictures.
> "I am not going to answer that."
> "I could order you to."
> "You wouldn't DARE."
TOM: ...to stay off drugs.
MIKE: <Marrissa, menacingly> You know what happens to people who get in my way!
> Then the red alert lights went on and the Computer announced,
> "RED ALERT, RED ALERT, Commander Riker, report to the Bridge, Lieutenant
> Picard, report to the Bridge, RED ALERT."
CROW: Everyone else have a capuccino. They can handle it.
> Captain Picard was in command, Data at Ops, Worf at Tactical and some Ensign at CONN
TOM: Ensign Throwaway, perhaps?
> when Marrissa and Commander Riker arrived on the
> bridge. "Marrissa get a PADD from my Ready Room," Captain Picard said.
MIKE: Make it "Imzadi." I didn't like "The Siege."
> "We have need of your Trakce expeirance."
> As Marrissa entered the Ready Room, Riker said, "Trakce? We
> haven't heard from them in years."
TOM: Yeah, but the foreshadowing was pretty thick.
> As soon as Marrissa returned to the bridge Captain Picard said,
> "We are on our way to the planet Dublin. We have received a distress
> call from them. Mr Worf, replay the message."
> "Aye, sir"
MIKE: That's a pretty inocuous message.
> The image of stars rushing by was replaced by a youthful
> colonial administrator. He began, " This is the planet Dublin, We are
> under attack by an unknown ship." (brief picture of yellow Trakce ship.)
CROW: <administrator> See?
TOM: It's a Vogon ship! Note how it hangs in the air in the same way that bricks don't.
> "It has overwhelmed our defenses and landed on the planet. They are
> kidnapping our children.
MIKE: <administrator> And if word gets out that an undocumented alien is
watching my kids, I'll never be re-elected!
> Please re...." The message became static.
TOM: Re...turn your library books?
CROW: Re...hash old plots?
MIKE: Re...write this fanfic?
> "We will arrive in 5 minutes," Captain Picard said. "Marrissa,
> why would they be taking children."
> "Either One, obtaining slaves, Two looking for a puppet ruler," Marrissa said.
TOM: *snicker* Um, yeah, that makes sense.
> "The last ins unlikely
CROW: <Marrissa> ...since I just made it up.
> but we shouldn't discount the possibility."
MIKE: Maybe they're simply taking hostages?
> "Thank you Marrissa, take Conn," Captain Picard said.
TOM: <Ensign> But sir...
CROW: <Picard> Get out of that chair, damn you! My little princess will fly the ship!
> "Captain, since they are on the planet, multiple away teams with
> our best phaser accuracy people are in order," Commander Riker suggested.
MIKE: Yeah, forget diplomacy in a hostage situation. Just open fire.
TOM: And how *convenient* that Marrissa just raised her phaser ranking.
> "Agreed, Three teams lead by yourself, Data, and Worf," They
> quickly moved to the turbolift. Captain Picard opened his mouth to
> object to Marrissa's inclusion on the team.
MIKE: Umm... what inclusion?
CROW: This plot point left as an exercise for the reader.
> However a quick glare from Marrissa silenced him.
TOM: I wonder if she's related to Charlie X.
> It was not wise to oppose Marrissa's career ambitions.
CROW: <Marrissa> I will dominate you all! Even you, Daddy!
TOM: <hums "Shades of Shadow">
> Commander Riker's away team was forming up in Transporter Room
> One. "Remember our objective is to rescue the children," Riker said.
MIKE: <Riker> Oh yeah, and to shoot stuff.
> "If I am unavailable, Lieutenant Picard is in command due to her
> expeirance with this race.
TOM: And her complete lack of experience with away missions.
> Ensigns Lochard, Henderson, and Diral, you are our back up.
ALL: grumble grumble bitch grumble grumble captain's daughter grumble...
> Commander Riker, Marrissa and four yellow shirts took position
> on the transporter platform, phasers drawn.
CROW: The laundry's back, and it's ready to kick ass!
> "Entergize," Riker ordered.
MIKE: No, no, that was Ratliff's *first* story.
> The Away team beamed down in a low walled garden. The Yellow
> Trakce ship was just about 50 yards away on the other side. Suddenly
> purple energy bolts shot out from behind the low wall surrounding the Trakce ship.
CROW: <sobbing> But it says up there that the wall is surrounding
the *away team*, not the ship, and, and--
MIKE: <hugs Crow> Shhh, it's all right, Crow.
> The Starfleet officers dove for cover behind the blue gray stone wall.
TOM: Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to beam directly in front of their phasers.
> Chapter Two
> ~~~~~~~~~~~
> The Away Team was pinned down behind the low garden wall.
CROW: Last time, on "Away From Home."
TOM: Just their luck: they try to hide behind it and it falls on them.
> "Damn Commander Riker said after missing a shot badly.
MIKE: <Riker> How could I have missed Marrissa at this range?
> "Watch your language, Commander," Marrissa said, taking a quick
> and surprisingly accurate shot at the Trakce, stunning one. "You shouldn't
> swear in front of children, or so Doctor Crusher keeps telling the Captain."
CROW: <Riker> Oh, shut the f--k up.
> "I'll try to remember that," Riker said, taking an even less successful shot.
MIKE: <Riker> Jeez, has she got a personal force field or something?
> "May I make a suggestion?" Marrissa asked.
TOM: <Marrissa> That phaser points the other way, numbnuts.
> "Go Ahead," Riker said, looking at Marrissa.
> "We have a fifteen meter long wall and we are only using about a
> fifth of it," Marrissa began. "If we spread out a ..."
CROW: Oh, you mean like this: " . . . "?
> At that moment she was interrupted and enveloped in a swirling purple transporter beam.
> "Damn," Riker cursed as Marrissa disappeared.
MIKE: <Riker> Hey, no fair! I called dibs!
> "Spread out, move after each shot.
TOM: This way, we'll be more like ducks in a shooting gallery!
> Marrissa matterailized, phaser drawn, on transporter platform in
> a medium sized red room,
CROW: She's in the White House?
> A Trakce with red and white hair ribbons was standing behind the console.
> Two more Trakce with red and gray ribbons were standing guard over three
> human children. Marrissa quickly took out the Trakce behind the console
> followed by the gray ribbons.
MIKE: ...while the Trakce, once again, did absolutely nothing.
TOM: <Marrissa> Three more! I'll have the Jonestown Life Achievement
Award in no time!
> "Who are you?"
CROW: <raspy voice> I'm Batman.
> a young red-headed girl of about ten years of age
> asked after the two gray ribboned collapsed beside her and the other tow children.
TOM: Sadly, Marrissa mistook her hair for a ribbon and shot her.
> "Lieutenant Marrissa Picard or the Federation Starship
> Enterprise," Marrissa said.
MIKE: I'm not sure which. I don't think I'm a starship, though.
> "Who are you?"
CROW: <raspy voice> I'm your worst nightmare.
MIKE: Okay, that's enough.
> "Heather O'Brien," the little girl said. "You can't be a
> Lieutenant. You're too young."
TOM: Well, you can't be an O'Brien. You aren't Irish-Japanese enough.
> Moving to the console Marrissa continued," That seems to be a
> common comment, but if you work hard enough and long enough you can be anything.
MIKE: Oh, she's a Republican.
> Hum-um, this is surprisingly simple.
CROW: Alien consoles in an unknown language? No problem!
> Heather would you take a message to the Enterprise for me?"
> "Sure, but how am I going to get there?" Heather asked.
TOM: <Heather> 'Cause we're in a transporter room and all and I don't see any way...
> "If you and your friends get on the transporter pad I'll arrange
> a tour of the Federation Flagship," Marrissa replied.
MIKE: <Heather> Big deal, I wanna see the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota!
> "What's the message?" Heather inquired, mounting the platform.
CROW: "Prepare to be destroyed."
> "Ross, beam down were you came from.
TOM: Huh? Who's Ross?
CROW: If that's Ross from "Catching Trouble," I *will* see him die here.
> Marrissa is taking on the enemy, which follows," Marrissa said.
MIKE: The enemy is following Marrissa?
> "Now repeat it back."
TOM: <Heather> "Marrissa wants to die in a blaze of glory."
> "Ross beam down where we came from. Marrissa is taking on the
> enemy, which follows" Heather repeated as the two other children mounted the platform.
CROW: Now say it with feeling.
> "Good, entergizing," Marrissa said. The children disappeared "Now I wait."
MIKE: I wonder how many *days* it'll take for the Trakce to notice that
three of their crew are dead.
> Meanwhile in transporter room 1 the sudden materailization of the
> children lead to them being welcomed with phasers drawn.
TOM: Fortunately, the children died quickly and painlessly.
> Ross quickly motioned his fellow security officers to holster their phasers.
>Welcome to the Enterprise, children," he said.
CROW: Smoking or non-smoking?
> "I have a message from the Lieutenant," Heather announced.
> "Yes?"
> "Ross beam down where we came from. Marrissa is taking on the
> enemy, which follows," Heather recited.
MIKE: <Ross> What the hell does *that* mean?
> "Transporter Room One to the Bridge," Ross Lochard said.
> "This is Captain Picard."
TOM: <Picard> I *am* the Bridge!
> "Marrissa just beamed some children on board," Ross informed the Captain.
CROW: We eat well tonight!
> "They say that she wants reinforcements and that she is sending
> some Trakce up. We will need more security and some one to look after the children."
MIKE: I'm sure Troi isn't doing anything important.
> "Beam down, I'll make sure everything up here is taken care of. Picard out."
TOM: I give up. I've got no idea where anyone is or where they're going.
> "Beam us down," Ross said as he joined Henderson and Diral on the transporter disks.
CROW: No fair, yours is a Bernoulli.
> The three some matterailized on the Trakce Transporter disks in the
> room Marrissa was in. "Ross, Ensign Henderson, Ensign Diral," Marrissa
> said, motioning toward the three prone Trakce. "Put these Trakce on the
> platform. The Enterprise could use some prisoners."
MIKE: They would really spruce up the place.
> They quickly got to work placing the Trakce on the plat form and
> beamed them up. Marrissa then noticed a nozzle near the ceiling of the room.
TOM: Hey, this isn't a shower, it's AAAAUUGH...
> Below it on the wall was a set of buttons. The first was labeled with a red circle.
CROW: So they're in the red-light district?
> The second was a red line above a red button.
MIKE: It says, "Push here for 1, 2, 3, or 9".
> The third a red line with a green circle below.
TOM: Ah, the international symbol for "bad fanfic."
> The fourth button was a red box with two green circles in it.
CROW: Beware of cheesy matte effects?
> Below all for buttons was a green bar with a green light in it.
> Marrissa took out here tricorder and scanned the wall.
TOM: <Marrissa> Looks like Brady Bunch wallpaper.
MIKE: Next, she scanned a sandwich.
> Meanwhile Ensign Lochard was examining the panel by the door. he
> was trying to figure how to open the door.
CROW: Lochard's not exactly long on brains, I guess.
> "Lieutenant I thing I have figured out how to open the door," he said.
MIKE: <Lochard> There's a doorknob!
TOM: These people have been spoiled by doors you just walk at.
> "Take up positions," Marrissa ordered.
CROW: Assume the position!
> Marrissa and Ensign Lochard took one side and Ensigns Henderson and Diral the other. "Now."
MIKE: They broke into a spontaneous dance number.
> Ross pressed a bottom by the doors did not open.
TOM: <Marrissa> Ross, remove your hand or I tell my dad!
> Instead an alarm went off and the over the intercom came the message that when
> translated said, "Intruder Alert. Enemy in the transporter room."
MIKE: Wow, all that because Ross touched Marrissa's hinder.
> The panel went blank a did the transporter console. "Great,
>just great," Marrissa said.
CROW: <Marrissa> I'm being sarcastic. Can't you *tell*?
> "Lieutenant Picard to Enterprise." A nasty
> static came over the communicator. "Great trapped in the transporter
> room in a minute some one will probablely break down the door."
TOM: If you're in that much trouble, might I suggest, oh, BEAMING OUT?!
> Then Marrissa noticed that her panel was still lit. Proceeding across the
> room she said, "Could they be so stupid?"
MIKE: Well, aliens are only as smart as their creators.
> "Stupid?" Ross inquired.
CROW: <Marrissa> What did you call me?
> "I think this panel is intruder control," Marrissa said. "It's still
> working. If it is designed well it should lock the door before it releases it's gas.
TOM: But since they're stupid, who knows.
> However I don't think Sulfur oxide in this quality is going to make more than
> a stink. Especially since their is only 20 milliliters of it in here."
> "Then lets do it." Ross said.
MIKE: As soon as we figure out what the hell you're talking about.
> "Not so fast Ensign," Marrissa said. "I think the first one is
> this room only. The second is this room and the corridor and the third
> just the corridor. The fourth appears to be all the ship exception of two
> rooms probablely here and the bridge. The green bar is most likely a
> clean up device."
CROW: <Marrissa> Or it could be the ship's self-destruct sequencer. I'm not sure.
> "May I suggest the fourth?" Ensign Lochard said.
> "Agreed, we need to disable as many as we can," Marrissa said, pressing
> the fourth button. An red outline appeared around the button, and the green
> light inside the green bar turned red. An heavy object hit the door.
TOM: So the ship's intruder controls are all in the transporter room? The
place most likely to have intruders??
CROW: <giggling> Aren't plot conveniences great?
MIKE: Judging by those last two sentences I'm willing to bet Ratliff has an
entire editing cycle completely devoted to adding adjectives.
> "Apparently it worked," Ross observed as the red outline disappeared.
TOM: Since the battering ram just hit the door and everything.
> "Now to see if I can clear it up," Marrissa said. She pressed
> the green bar. The light turned yellow. After a minute the light
> turned green and the door opened.
> Marrissa turned around and saw the Trakce in the doorway. His
> yellow hair was drawn back with a red and a gray ribbon. The alien's
> eyelid's were open but his eyes were rolled back revealing a violet ball.
CROW: Hey, when I said they had croquet balls for brains, I didn't know!
> Marrissa scanned him with her tricorder and said, "Oh, No, no life signs,
> He's dead." Falling to her knees she continued, "What have I done?"
TOM: <Elmer Fudd> I killed the wabbit...
> Chapter Three
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
>
> "What have I done?" Marrissa repeated, on her knees next to the dead Trakce.
MIKE: After kill #374, Marrissa finally begins to show remorse.
> "Lieutenant, I am detecting three Alien life signs in a room ant
> the end of the corridor," Ensign Ross Lochard said. Marrissa was
> silent. "Lieutenant? ... Marrissa snap out of it."
CROW: Stop feeling guilty, it's just a dumb old alien.
> Marrissa shook her head to clear her mind and got up.
TOM: <Marrissa> Well, let's get rid of all that nasty guilt. There! I'm all better!
> "What was that Ross?"
CROW: <Ross Hagen> Chili peppers burn my gut!
> "I have detected three Trakce life signs at the end of the corridor,"
> he replied. "In addition I read a hundred human life signs on the deck below us."
MIKE: Sounds like they're ripe for a peasant revolt.
> "Any additional Trakce life signs?" Lieutenant Marrissa Picard asked.
> "No, sir," Ensign Ross Lochard replied.
TOM: So this Trakce invasion consists of, like, 6 aliens?
> "Then lets get to those remaining Trakce," Marrissa replied.
CROW: <Marrissa> I find I like killing.
> "Ensign Lochard lead the way, Henderson guard the rear.
MIKE: <Marrissa> Keep Ross away from me, Henderson.
> Oh and Ross..."
> "Yes Lieutenant," Ross responded.
> "Don't call me sir," Marrissa said. "I'm half your age.
TOM: <Ross, bitter> Don't remind me, SIR...
> Call me by my rank or my first name please."
CROW: Or don't call me at all.
> Moments later the four officers were outside the closed bridge
> doors. "Do you think you can open this one, Ross," Marrissa asked.
> "With out the alarm please."
MIKE: Jeez, you don't have to be so snotty about it.
> "Yes Lieutenant, this door only has one button," Ross Lochard replied.
TOM: Then he should be able to figure it out much quicker.
CROW: <Ross> It's marked "3000 VOLTS - DO NOT TOUCH." Should I touch it?
> "Then Diral, Henderson, you go in first," Lieutenant Picard ordered.
MIKE: You're in no danger, you have real names.
> "Ross and I will follow. Don't allow anyone to press a button. Ross open the door.
CROW: <Ross> But, uh, I have to press a button.
TOM: Speaking of which, let's get out of here.
[They leave the theater.]
1...2...3...4...5...6...*...
[SoL. Gypsy is alone on the bridge. An alarm starts beeping.]
GYPSY: Huh? Unidentified object at close range... Cambot, give me Rocket #9!
[Switch to Rocket #9. A teddy bear is floating all alone in the night.
It's wearing a read and blue baseball cap and some sort of baseball
shirt. As it tumbles towards the camera, one can make out "J. S." on
the front of the shirt and "BABEARLON 5" on the back.]
[SoL]
GYPSY: Aww... poor little guy! Hang on, I'm coming out!
[Rocket #9. The bear hits the camera with an audible <whump>, then gets
pulled away to the side.]
[SoL. Gypsy isn't there; Mike and Tom wander in.]
TOM: ...it was just a fluke, I tell you. The Flyers are going all the
way this year, no ifs, ands, or buts!
[Gypsy comes in and drops the bear on the counter.]
MIKE: Gypsy, what's this?
GYPSY: It was floating by and hit Rocket #9.
TOM: <as Mike picks up the bear> Geez, Gypsy, do you have bring in every
piece of space junk that floats by us?
MIKE: Yeah!... He's kind of a cute li'l guy, though. <He and Tom start
playing with the bear>
[Crow comes in, carrying a pile of papers.]
CROW: Okay, Tom, I will *prove* to you that the Rangers can [sees bear] OH MY GOD!!
MIKE: What is it, Crow?
CROW: <panicked> Mike, where did that thing come from???
MIKE: Gypsy brought him in. <to Tom and Gypsy> What do you think we should call him?
GYPSY: Um...
TOM: How about Alvin?
CROW: We've got to get rid of it!
TOM: Why, Crow?
CROW: There must be a crossover field nearby! If we don't get that bear
off the ship, anything could happen!
[Mike and Tom look reluctant. Gypsy seems to be lost in a world of her own.]
CROW: Besides, it could be carrying some mutant space virus or something.
MIKE: Yaaah!
[Mike runs off-screen; sounds of machinery are heard]
MIKE: <returning> Phew! That was a close one.
[The teddy bear floats past the SoL's window]
TOM: Aww... there he goes. <slight sniffle>
MIKE: It's okay, Tom, he's going back to join his own. <sees something
startling in the window> Hey, what's that??
[Mike, Tom, and Crow move to the window. Gypsy still looks occupied. Mys-
terious lights flash from outside, but the viewer can't see the source.]
CROW: Well, what do you know!
TOM: What the-- but that means they--
MIKE: Then she would--
CROW: But he can't--
MIKE: Then what about--
[The lights die down. Mike, Tom and Crow turn away from the window.]
CROW: Wow. This changes everything!
TOM: Yeah, we probably weren't supposed to know that until season 4 at least!
MIKE: After seeing that, I'm just glad we got rid of that bear.
GYPSY: Jeffrey.
[pause]
OTHERS: Huh?
[Another pause, then alarms and sirens go off.]
MIKE: Never mind, we've got Ratliff sign!!!
6...5...4...3...2...1...*...
[They enter the theater.]
TOM: Babearlon 5, indeed.
> On the Red Bridge of the Trakce ship, the Captain was sitting in
> his chair in the aft port corner of the bridge.
TOM: Hey, can't a guy have a little privacy here?
> In the front of the room two officers manned a console going from wall to wall. The Captain
> wore two red ribbons. The left one wore a red and a green ribbon. The
> right Trakce wore a red and a blue ribbon.
CROW: You know, Stephen, we just DON'T CARE ABOUT THE FRIGGIN' RIBBONS ANYMORE!!
MIKE: Hey, calm down, Crow.
> The Bridge also boasted a brig in the starboard aft corner.
TOM: Ah. The ship was designed by committee, I see.
CROW: Think of all the heckling the captain must get.
> Suddenly the door opened up. The Starfleet Officers burst into
> the room. "Hands up," Marrissa ordered her phaser pointing at the leader.
MIKE: <Eliot Ness> I got you now, Capone!
> The Trakce hands went toward the ceiling. "Now slowly back away from those consoles."
TOM: Now do the hokey-pokey and turn yourself around.
> When all the Trakce were out of reach of the consoles Marrissa
> ordered, "Ensign Lochard search them."
CROW: And be careful, they're sensitive. Itching powder kills them.
> Ross Lochard approached the seven foot tall alien. Holstering
> his phaser, he began patting him down.
MIKE: <Ross> Say, do you work out?
> From the alien's back he removed a sword.
TOM: ...and gave it back to the guy who'd stabbed him.
CROW: There can be only one.
> On his waist three spikes of some type were removed.
MIKE: And his pants were headed for the floor!
> The same process was repeated for both of the other Trakce.
> "Now that you gentlemen have been disarmed, I'd like you to take
> a seat over there in your bridge brig," Marrissa Picard said.
TOM: Sure, the bridge brig was a bad idea, but it does save on set design.
> "Please go slowly and remember that all of the Starfleet personal are in the top
> ten percent of phaser rankings on the Enterprise."
CROW: Uh... so your average Starfleet crewmember is better than 90% of the
Enterprise crew?
MIKE: That sounds about right.
> The Trakce took seats in their own brig and Marrissa began her
> speech, "Now gentlemen, some introductions since I didn't have time
> earlier. I am Lieutenant junior grade Marrissa Amber Picard, CONN
> Officer on the Federation Flagship USS Enterprise.
TOM: You know, she's awful damn proud of that "Flagship" thing.
> My father is the Captain of that ship. These are Ensigns Lochard, Henderson,
> and Diral Security Officers on the same ship." As she said each name she gestured
> to each officer.
MIKE: Hellooo...
TOM: Hellooo...
CROW: Hellooo...
ALL: HELLO!
> "You are in big trouble," Marrissa said. "As a Starfleet officer, I must
> arrest you on the following charges; One hundred four counts of Kidnapping.
> One count of Kidnapping a Starfleet Officer, namely myself, One count of leading
> an UN-provoked attack on a Federation member world,
CROW: The U.N. provoked the attack? I *knew* it was a conspiracy!
> and on count of violating landing regulations."
TOM: The most serious crime of all!
MIKE: Marrissa Picard: Junior Parking Nazi.
> "I have nothing to say," The captain said.
CROW: I want my lawyer.
> "By the way how do you turn off your jamming device?" Marrissa
> asked. "I'd prefer not to start pressing buttons. I might just hit the
> wrong button and kill your crew."
TOM: <Marrissa> I'm just stupid enough to do it, too! I'm a danger to
myself and others!
> "I have nothing to say."
> "You should know that she has done it before," Ross commented as
> if it was a common everyday thing.
MIKE: <Ross> Yeah, Marrissa pretty much slaughters indiscriminately...
> The red and blue ribboned Trakce spoke up," Five in Four up on my console."
CROW: Orgy at his place! Woo!
> "Thank you," Marrissa said.
TOM: <Marrissa> ...wuss.
> "You shouldn't have said that," the Trakce leader scolded his
> crew person. "Now we must die."
MIKE: <German accent> Now is the time on Sprockets when we die!
> Meanwhile behind the garden wall, Commander Riker had finally
> found some time to check in.
CROW: <Riker> Well, errands are done, but I still have to pick up the dry cleaning...
> "Riker to Enterprise ... Riker to Enterprise. Damn. Riker to Data."
> "Data here."
TOM: <Data> I'm right next to you.
> "My communication with the Enterprise has been cut off," Riker said.
> "My communication suffers the same fault," Data's voice said.
MIKE: Do you think there could be a connection?
> "I'm pinned down behind a garden wall," Riker informed.
CROW: That's the last time *I* try planting tulips!
> "A couple of Trakce are firing on us from behind a wall surrounding their ship.
TOM: So Marrissa kills about 200 Trakce in a matter of minutes, but Riker
can't handle *two* of them?
> Lieutenant Picard has been beamed away by the Trakce. Inform
> Worf and the approach the vessel from the other side.
MIKE: <Data> Have you been drinking, sir?
> Meanwhile on the bridge of the Enterprise, Captain Picard was
CROW: ...thinking how nice it would be to have a brig handy.
MIKE: Let it go.
> considering what he was going to do to say to his daughter when she
> returned -- if she returned. His leading idea at present was
TOM: "Go back and try again."
> to confine her to her room until the next century.
ALL: <cheer and applaud>
> He did not like not being able to keep an eye on Marrissa. Not that he did
> very often, but lacking that ability was a little unnerving.
MIKE: <Picard> I know she's out there... somewhere... plotting against me...
> "Captain Transporters and Communications are jammed," the tactical officer said.
CROW: <Picard> Okay, I can't beam down. What about the *rest* of the crew?
> Make that next thousand years, Picard thought. "Picard to Engineering.
> "Engineering, Ensign Clara Sutter here."
> "Clara? Where's Laforge," Picard asked.
TOM: This is a Ratliff story, sir. All regulars are either missing or ineffectual.
> "Clara's voice returned, "He's in Sick bay with plasma burns and a broken hip.
MIKE: It was another one of those random explosions in Engineering.
> He left me in command of Engineering."
CROW: He must have been seriously delirious.
TOM: I hope she isn't going to play Bob Seger and dance around in her underwear.
> "Can you find a way around this jamming field" Picard asked.
> "Give me three minutes."
MIKE: <Clara> ...and then give me three more minutes. I really have no
idea what I'm doing!
>
> Chapter Four
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~
> "Just how are you going to die?" Marrissa inquired the Trakce Captain.
CROW: Well, first the electrochemical activity dies down, then...
> "Like this," he replied touching the bracelet he wore on this left
> arm. A high pitched squeal was heard and all the Trakce vaporized
> inside their uniforms.
TOM: Jeez, too bad they couldn't point those things at other people.
MIKE: I think Jack Kavorkian made those bracelets.
CROW: At least they didn't vanish with an audible ping.
> "Great, this mission will get me court-marshaled yet," Marrissa said dejectedly.
ALL: <cheer and applaud again>
TOM: Honey, you passed that stage a *long* time ago.
> "Permission to speak freely Lieutenant?" Ensign Lochard asked.
> "Granted," Marrissa intoned.
> "I have seen no court-marshaled offense," Ross Lochard said.
MIKE: <Sgt. Shultz> I know nothing! NOTHING!
> "If anything your conduct has been the model of correctness and quick thinking.
CROW: Way to suck up, Ross.
> So forget about a court-marshal which will not happen and do
> what you do best ... Command Lieutenant."
ALL: <sucking noises>
TOM: <Marrissa> You're just hoping I'll forget you touched my bottom.
> "Aye, Aye, Ensign," Marrissa said, a glimmer of laughter visible
> for a second in her eyes.
MIKE: And then, back to the usual gleam of madness and depravity.
CROW: <Marrissa> I'm in it for the kicks!
> At the system's analyst table in Engineering, Clara was working
> on bypassing the jamming field of the Trakce.
TOM: I bypassed your artery, now live, dammit, LIVE!!
> Suddenly she shouted triumphantly, "Yes!"
MIKE: Yahtzee!
> Then more calmly she continued, "Engineering to the Bridge."
> "Bridge, Captain Picard."
CROW: This is no time for card games!
> "Captain, this is Clara. I've solved the communications
> problem. You should be able to contact the away teams now. Transporter
> should be up in about ten minutes."
TOM: It just hit the snooze bar.
> "Thank you Clara, Bridge out."
> "Lieutenant Watson,
MIKE: ...the game's afoot.
> you're in charge until I return," Clara
> said. "I'll be in Transporter room 3. Clara Sutter to Shayna Sachs,
> report to transporter room 3."
CROW: <Shayna> Awww, but I just got to level 34 on Mario!
> Meanwhile back on the planet, the Trakce had stopped firing on
> Commander Riker's Away team.
TOM: They finally took pity on him.
> Commander Riker was puzzled.
MIKE: Why am I not surprised?
> Then his communicator chirped
CROW: ...like a mutant hellbeast.
> and said, "Captain Picard to Commander Riker."
> "Riker here."
TOM: Riker there. Riker everywhere.
> "nice to hear you again, Commander," Picard said from the
> bridge. "I hope you can tell me more that what Marrissa relayed though
> a bunch of kid's a half an hour ago."
MIKE: He's been shooting and missing for half an hour?!
> "I'm glad to here that Marrissa's safe," Riker responded. "I
> was worried about her."
CROW: It was a private joke between him and the captain.
> "Personally, I wouldn't call trying to take over an Trakce ship
> safe," Picard returned. "Now what is going on down there, Commander?"
TOM: Well, we put a larger bulb in the E-Z Bake oven, and we should have
cake in 5 minutes.
> "I've been pinned down in a garden since we beamed down," Riker said.
MIKE: <Riker> I've been crying like a girl, sir.
> "Data reports the capture of a dozen Trakce, three by his team,
> the rest by Worf's"
> "Good, Commander.
CROW: <patronizing voice> Good Commander! Now sit! Stay!
> Clara's working on the transporter now. Is there anything you need?" Picard enquired.
TOM: <Riker> I want some pudding.
> "Freshly charged phasers would nice," Riker said.
MIKE: Happiness is a charged phaser.
> "Did you say Clara's working on the transporter?"
CROW: Note to myself: find reason to stay on planet.
> "Commander La Forge was working on the communications array when
> he lost his grip and fell into a plasma transfer conduit," Picard informed Riker.
TOM: That ship is an OSHA nightmare.
> "Doctor Crusher says he broke his hip and of course has massive plasma burns.
MIKE: You know, he sounds pretty blithe about the whole thing.
> He won't return to duty for another week. On his way out of Engineering he moaned,
CROW: "Beware of the dwarf."
> 'Clara you are in charge.' So we now have a eleven year old acting Chief Engineer.
TOM: And I'm just the captain, so I can't countermand his order.
> Enterprise out."
> "Data to Commander Riker."
> "Riker here, go ahead, Data."
CROW: <announcer> Non-stop communicator action!
> "Commander, the Trakce we captured have vaporized leaving their uniforms behind."
MIKE: It's the Wacky Disintegrator, from Whammo.
> "Thanks for the information, Data," Riker said. "Communication
> with the Enterprise has been restored. Report in. Riker out."
TOM: <fashion reporter> Yes, this fall, reports are in, while Rikers
are way, way out!
> Back on the Enterprise in transporter room 3, Shayna was
> standing behind the console while Clara worked on the circuits.
CROW: This'll be the best Homecoming float ever!
> "Try number 4076," Clara announced.
> "OK." Shayna said. A transporter teat object (TTO) was on
> beamed out and back in.
TOM&CROW: TEATS! TEATS! TEATS! <etc.>
> The TTO was blacked and smashed in.
MIKE: Ah, it's the Rodney King model.
> "I don't think we have it right yet." Shayna walked over and removed and replaced the TTO.
CROW: TTO was always my favorite of the Jackson Five.
> "That's an understatement," Clara said, changing some circuits. "Try number 4077."
ALL: <hum M*A*S*H theme>
> "Beginning beam down," Shayna said after returning to the
> console. The new TTO dematerailized. "Beaming back." The TTO
> rematerialized in perfect shape.
TOM: It's been working out.
> "Yes!" Clara exclaimed. "Let's get Commander Riker his fresh
> phasers," Clara said placing five phasers on the transporter pad.
CROW: Get him a six-pack of Schlitz while you're at it.
> "Entergize."
> The phasers disappeared.
MIKE: That'll happen.
> Meanwhile back on the Trakce vessel Marrissa was theorizing,
TOM: Uh-oh, look out, she can B.S. with the best of 'em!
> "I don't think the Trakce was telling the truth," Marrissa stated. "All
> the active system buttons we have seen were boxed in. Her console,
> which is defiantly a communications console,
MIKE: It *dares* you to communicate.
> has only one such button.
> Four in Five up is not it." Marrissa pressed the button which was boxed
> in. The box disappeared.
> The Trakce computer announced, "Modified jamming field off."
CROW: Man, alien technology is *easy*! It speaks English and everything!
> Marrissa smiled," Lieutenant Picard to the Enterprise."
> Her father replied from his bridge, "Enterprise, Captain Picard.
> It's nice of you to report in yourself."
TOM: Oh, is the great Marrissa Picard going to report in?
> "Sorry Captain, but the more you use anything the more likely
> they are to block it," Marrissa said.
CROW: Huh?
MIKE: It's like Murphy's Law, except really dumb.
> "I have captured the Trakce ship.
CROW: <Marrissa> It was really simple, too. All I needed was a super-soaker.
> Unfortunately, the Trakce Captain chose to vaporized himself and his crew
> before submitting."
TOM: I guess the leather scared him.
> "Beam up as soon as the analyst team from Engineering arrives,"
> Captain Picard said. "Clara called, she has to delay her dinner with you.
MIKE: So he's a captain *and* an answering service!
> She is acting Chief Engineer until Commander La Forge recovers."
TOM: Or until he wakes up and realizes his horrible mistake.
> "How is Engineering taking being under the command of a eleven
> year old acting ensign who is a daughter of a junior ensign in the warp
> field mechanics department," Marrissa asked.
MIKE: About the same as people who talk in run-on sentences like this one
and the one that you just said which is to say pretty bad.
> "I expect that Engineering will book Counselor Troi this week," Picard said.
CROW: Oh, yeah... buck-a-chicka-wow!
TOM: She's got a great act. She does this amazing trick with her--
MIKE: That's enough, Tom.
> "I also expect a report from you by tomorrow morning.
CROW: What is Picard's obsession with reports?
> Oh by the way, I promised those children you beamed up that you'd give
> them a tour of the Enterprise when you returned.
MIKE: Think she'll use the phrase "Flagship"?
> Enterprise out."
TOM: So... what happened to the hostage situation, anyway?
>
> Chapter Five
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~
>
> While awaiting the arrival of the Engineering Analyst team,
> Marrissa suddenly remembered, "The children! Ross scan to see if those
> children are still here."
MIKE: Good call, Servo.
CROW: <Marrissa> Oh yeah, the stupid hostages we were sent to rescue.
Lucky we didn't gas 'em.
> "Confirmed."
TOM: <Ross> However, they are all dead.
> "Lieutenant Picard to Doctor Crusher."
> "Crusher here."
> "I just captured the Trakce ship and I think it would be
> advisable for you and Counselor Troi to beam down," Marrissa suggested.
MIKE: And when Marrissa suggests, it's an order!
> "The deck below me has a hundred children that the Trakce captured."
CROW: So group therapy is probably called for.
> "I'll be right down. Crusher out."
TOM: Crusher is out! Hulk Hogan retains the WWF championship!
> When Marrissa finally returned to the Enterprise, Captain Picard
> and the three children she had rescued were waiting for her.
MIKE: ...with baseball bats.
> "Worried Dad?" Marrissa asked.
CROW: <Picard> Sure, now that you're back.
> "Most certainly not" Captain Picard denied unconvincingly.
TOM: That Patrick Stewart is such a lousy actor.
> "These children have been waiting for their tour. When you come by the
> bridge be ready for battle stations.
MIKE: <Picard> I feel like destroying something.
> I just discovered that the Beta shift is overdue for a drill. I really should
> speak to Commander Riker about it."
> "I can't wait to see Troi in action," Marrissa said.
CROW: Oh, wow...
MIKE: Crow...
CROW: What? I wasn't gonna say a word!
TOM: <oblivious> See, the Betazoid commands the Beta shift.
> "She should know somethings up when you ask for volunteers to command a shift
> on a ship wide broadcast. May I suggest Romulans?"
MIKE: No thanks, I just ate.
> "Excellent idea, Lieutenant," the Captain said. "I believe your
> tourists are getting antsy."
> "Then I better get going," Marrissa replied. "Follow me."
>
> Entering the turbolift with the children Marrissa asked,
> "Heather will you introduce me to your friends. Main Engineering."
> "This is my little brother Corey, and his friend Sam Lynch,"
CROW: He's the comic relief.
> Heather said indicating first a read headed boy, then a blond one.
TOM: Yes, this season's hot new hair color will be Times Roman!
> "Nice to meet you Corey, Sam. My name is Marrissa Picard, just call me Marrissa."
> "Shouldn't we call you by your rank?" Corey asked.
MIKE: <Marrissa> No, I don't like "Stinky".
> "No, you aren't a member of the crew or even my Kid's Crew," Marrissa replied.
CROW: <Marrissa> You are inferior to me in every way.
> "Plus I'm only twelve and a half years old."
> "You're not much older than me and you are a Starfleet Lieutenant!" Corey exclaimed.
TOM: It doesn't make much sense to us either, kid.
> "Just wait until you see who is in charge of Engineering," Marrissa said.
MIKE: And Macauley Culkin is our head of security.
> The turbolift doors opened and Marrissa lead Heather, Corey, and
> Sam into Main Engineering. Clara was standing by the Warp core yelling up it.
CROW: <goofy voice> Let's watch the gruesome result as Clara sticks her
head in the warp core!
> "Mr Barclay, I want that system diagnostic done by 1500 hours and
> a report on my desk a hour later."
TOM: <Barclay, distant> But you don't have a desk...
MIKE: Oh, this'll help his confidence, being ordered around by a pre-teen.
> Marrissa put her finger by her nose,
CROW: ...and blew snot all over the deck.
> indicating that they should
> be quiet. She then went to the replicator and ordered a plate of cookies
> by punching in the code. Marrissa then crept up behind Clara and placed
> the tray below her left wrist.
TOM: Uh oh! They're on a collision course for wackiness!
> Almost reflexively Clara picked up a cookie and bit into it.
MIKE: And then saw half a worm waving at her from what was left.
> "Eating on duty, Ensign?" Lieutenant Marrissa Picard barked.
ALL: Woof! Arf! Arf!
> Then more smoothly she continued. "You owe me three credits."
CROW: But that's not fair! Marrissa's the one who gave her the cookies!
> "I'll pay you we I get off duty," Clara replied. Noticing
> Heather, Corey, and Sam she asked, "New recruits?"
TOM: Fresh meat.
> "No," Marrissa replied. "These are the children I rescued from
> the Trakce. Heather O'Brien, Corey O'Brien, and Sam Lynch.
MIKE: Miles and Keiko have been busier than we thought, apparently.
> Dad ordered me do give them a tour before they return to the planet's surface."
CROW: A taste of the good life, then back to the slave pits.
> "I guess its time for the two minute tour of Engineering then," Clara said.
TOM: Only two minutes?
CROW: Well, it *is* a small set.
> "Follow me. This is the Master Situation Monitor ..."
MIKE: <Torgo> ThE MAsTeR wOuLDn'T aPpROve oF SitUAtIoNs...
> When Marrissa and her charges enter the bridge via the battle
> bridge turbolift Counselor Troi said, "Marrissa, the Captain wants to
> see you in his Ready room."
TOM: <Marrissa> But I haven't finished showing these spies all our secrets.
CROW: Hey, that'd be a fun plot twist.
MIKE: Yeah, but this is Ratliff. No plot twists allowed.
> "Thank you Counselor," Marrissa said "Would you give my friends
> here a tour of the bridge while I see what my father wants." Marrissa
> entered the ready room.
TOM: <Troi> Well, this is, uh, the bridge.
> A couple minutes later she returned and said, "The Captain has
> ordered the following rotations, Ensigns Martin, Laternize and
> Lieutenants Anton and Felix, the Captain has some duties in his ready
> room which better suit your talents.
MIKE: He needs to do a scene with some acting in it.
> Heather O'Brien take CONN, Corey Ops; Sam, aft stations."
CROW: <jaw hangs open>
TOM: <laughing> What?! Okay, they're little kids, they've never been on
board a starship until now, and they're going to take control of the
Battle Bridge?
MIKE: <kid voice> Do you know how any of this stuff works?
TOM: <ditto> No. Just keep pressing buttons until something blows up.
> The exchange of places was made with Marrissa taking tactical.
CROW: Duh... not... sense... making...
MIKE: <grabs Crow> Snap out of it, buddy!
> "Marrissa why are you amused?" Counselor Troi asked.
TOM: <Marrissa> Oh, the idea of kids in control of a fully armed battleship
just cracks me up!
> "You will find out soon enough," Marrissa smiled.
CROW: <Marrissa> You will die soon enough!
> Over the intercom Captain Picard announced, "Commence Bridge Battle Drill."
MIKE: Insert another 25 cents.
> "Romulan Warbird De-cloaking directly ahead," Marrissa announced.
> "Raise shields and hail them Lieutenant," Troi replied.
> "No response, They are powering their weapons," Marrissa responded.
TOM: What a surprise, this being a *battle* drill and all.
> "Ready phasers and photon torpedoes ..."
CROW: And get me a real crew!
>
>
>
>
MIKE: Yes?
> From: sratliff@ruacad.ac.runet.edu (Stephen Ratliff)
> Date: Fri, 14 Apr 1995 18:35:10 GMT
> Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
> Subject: Away From Home part 14 The Second Interlude
TOM: Ah. The second book is over, I see.
CROW: Ratliff's stories don't really *end*; they just kind of taper out.
>
>
> Away From Home part 14
>
> The Second Interlude
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
>
> Marrissa almost got her full Lieutenancy after the Away Mission.
> The only thing that stopped her was the six month time between promotions rule.
MIKE: And a sudden attack of sense in the Starfleet command structure.
CROW: Holy cow, Ratliff's a boy scout!
TOM: That would explain a *lot*.
> Ross Lochard became a Lieutenant junior grade upon Marrissa's recommendation.
MIKE: Well, hey! Sucking up to your boss *does* pay off!
> He also began dating Ensign Katherine Szustakowski.
CROW: That's great, but WHAT DOES IT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING??
> Clara Sutter spent a week as acting Chief Engineer.
TOM: Nobody was smart enough to replace her, I see.
> Most of Engineering came to Counselor Troi that week with feelings of inadquitcy.
CROW: ...after they found out that Clara had a bigger--
MIKE: CROW!
> Shortly after her tenure as Chief Engineer, Clara published and article
> in the Cochran Technical Journal titled "Mathematical analysis of Possible New
> Warp Power Asymptotes."
TOM: At that point, her chances of being cool were ruined for life.
> Since not many people looked up the biographical listing on Clarrissa Ann Sutter
> of the USS Enterprise record it was well received.
CROW: ...by the three people who read it.
> The Enterprise itself crash landed and was declared unsalvegable.
MIKE: <giggles> What... just like that?
CROW: Could this have something to do with having so many *kids* in charge?
TOM: Uh... nurk... AAARRGH! <his head explodes, Mike grabs him>
> While waiting reassignment the crew of the Enterprise was bombarded by the media.
CROW: Oh, so it was *reporters* who destroyed the Enterprise!
MIKE: <waving smoke away from Tom's head> Tom? Tom, speak to me!
> Of particular interest to them was Marrissa, due to her rank and age.
MIKE: And her one-time friendship with O.J.
CROW: Hey Mike, is Servo okay?
> In fact she become the media darling of Starfleet until they began getting on her nerves.
CROW: *They* began getting on *her* nerves?
> The Trakce however still wanted a child for their plans.
MIKE: So they decided to adopt.
TOM: <woozily> Oooh, lookit the pretty pixels.
> Unfortunately for them, for them third time is not a charm.
CROW: Now *there's* some subtle foreshadowing.
MIKE: Come on, we've got to get Tom out of here.
TOM: Duuuhhhhh.... daaaaaaaaiiiiiuuuurrrrr....
[They leave the theater.]
1...2...3...4...5...6...*...
[SOL. Servo is sitting on the counter. His head is broken and smoke
billows out of it. Mike is intent on trying to fix Servo while Crow looks on.]
CROW: So, Mike, that's the end of another "book?"
MIKE: <distracted> Yep.
CROW: Was there any dramatic tension in there?
MIKE: <again> Nope, just a meteoric rise through the ranks.
CROW: Ah, like a Clancy novel.
[Tom begins to move his head back and forth slowly.]
TOM: Snxbble grnklph... dhdkhcvwefs... qwertyuiop...
MIKE: Tom, speak to me, buddy!
[Tom swivels his head faster than before.]
TOM: WOOP WOOP WOOP! YAAHH!! <stops swivelling, pauses> What happened?
MIKE: You fizzled out on us towards the end, there.
TOM: Oh yeah. I remember... the Enterprise exploded for no reason,
or something like that.
CROW: <nervously> Yeah, I wonder what the heck he was talking about.
MIKE: Well, he was obviously referring to "Star Trek: Generations".
TOM: Huh?
CROW: <whisper> Uh, no, Mike...
MIKE: Yeah, the Enterprise blew up at the end of the movie.
TOM: "Generations"?
CROW: <harsher whisper> MIKE!
MIKE: You remember, don't you? The final union of old generation and
next, in which Kirk and Picard team up in the Happy Ribbon to
stop Dr. Soran?
TOM: Oh yeah... "Generations." Now I remember. Thanks, Mike. <pause>
NNNYYYYYUUUUUAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGHHH!!!!
[Servo's head explodes not once, not twice, but THREE times. He
collapses on the counter and doesn't move.]
MIKE: Holy cow!
CROW: Great going, Mike. Servo had to go through months of intense
therapy after seeing "Generations", and he had *just* gotten
to the point where he could watch "Tekwar" without babbling
incoherently, when YOU come along and ruin EVERYTHING.
MIKE: Jeez, I'm sorry, Crow, I didn't know...
CROW: I only hope he can be helped after this latest setback.
MIKE: I'm sorry, I really had no idea...
[Buzzers and lights go off.]
MIKE: AAAHHHH! WE GOT FANFIC SIGN!
TOM: Urk.
T O B E C O N T I N U E D
Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its characters and situations are
copyright of Best Brains, Inc. This is a work of fanfiction and
is not meant to infringe on that copyright. Likewise, Star Trek
in all of its many forms is a bloated franchise copyrighted to
Paramount. This MiSTing is *not* a personal attack on Stephen
Ratliff, however much he may deserve it. It is meant in fun and
games and shouldn't be taken seriously.
Stay tuned for the, uh, fantastic conclusion of this extremely LONG
MiSTing, "Away From Home, Book 3: Chasing Marrissa."
> A transporter teat object (TTO) was on beamed out and back in.
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