From: "Chuck" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.vs.starwars Subject: [FICTION] Arr: The Final Frontier Date: Sat, 26 Jan 2004 11:22:40 -0600 Arr: The Final Frontier, Part 1 by Chuck Sonnenburg and Scott Gordee The Confederation Starship USS Arr hung over the alien world the same way that bricks don't. It soared through its orbit smoothly, its gracious curves glistening in the sunlight in a decidedly un-brick-like manner. On the bridge, Captain Buck Random, commander of this vessel, completes their latest mission involving contact with an alien race. For a change, there had been little bloodshed. "And we hope the high priestess understands that it was all just a big misunderstanding. On our planet commenting on a woman's physical appearance is considered a polite compliment." "No it's not," Armstrong grumbled. "Shut up, I almost have big-ass convinced." He threw his hands in frustration as the screen switched from the angered alien to a view of the planet. "They've cut the transmission, craphead," Bambi Hyde remarked from communications. This being a special occasion, she wore her dress bathrobe on the bridge. "Well, it's in the hands of the diplomats now," Random said, taking his seat. "Set in a course for Stardock." "Aye sir," said Buddy Steele from the helm. Space shifted as the Arr broke orbit and vanished into hyperspace. "And another successful offending of a new species by Captain Random," Nonek remarked smugly. "Keep that streak alive, captain!" "'Mission of peace,'" Random spat as if the words meant the same as scrubbing out a toilet. "We should be out enforcing the peace. our kind of peace!" "You mean promoting the peace," Armstrong, his first officer, remarked. "Yes." "You know," Armstrong remarked with clearly strained patience, "finding the common ground is the first step towards peace." "Is that so," Random said with complete disinterest. "Frankly, captain, if you'd bothered finding it this mission would have been a success." "Bah! They were obviously pre-disposed towards conflict." "You're pre-disposed towards conflict." "So I oughta know," Random said irritably. "Diplomatic missions aren't easy, sir, but every effort should be made to find that common ground. With empathy and patience, there should never be a failed first contact." "Watch your tongue," Nonek remarked, gyrating with self-satisfaction inside his jar. "The captain isn't afraid to try what other's say is impossible, even if it means failing a mission. We salute you, sir, and you remain an inspiration to all of us who set our sites so incredibly low." "Well said," Random said with enthusiasm. "Your high morale is important in keeping this ship running as well as it does. And that's why I 'm happy to announce that I'm promoting you. to the new post of Comic Relief, Senior Grade." "Congratulations," Bambi said with a voice that sounded like gargling gravel before taking a drink from her mug. "Your mother must be proud." If it was possible for a brain to look shocked, Nonek was doing his best. "Excuse me?" he said as the fluid drained out of his tank and onto the floor below his jar, then refilled from some unknown location. Random laughed heartily. "You know I love that trick! You've been long overdue for this promotion." "Are you insan- wait, foolish question, of course you are. I'm your science officer. I can multi-task seven thousand operations at once-" "Good, you can do both!" And with that Random rose and exited the room, leaving the rest of the bridgecrew to enjoy Nonek's grumbling for the rest of the trip back to Stardock. Several hours later Commander Lance Armstrong found himself in the shuttle bay waiting for the arrival of the latest addition to their crew. "Why didn't they just wait for us to drydock?" he asked Buddy as the ship came into sight. "They asked us not to," Buddy remarked. "They said they were full." "Stardock? How can Stardock be full?" "I don't ask those kinds of questions, sir, but they were quite adamant, and by adamant, I mean they threatened to fire on us." "Full you say," Armstrong remarked as the shuttle passed through the force field and set down on the pad. The door hissed open and the two watched a buxom young woman step onto the deck. Armstrong stepped forward, extending a hand to the new officer. "Welcome aboard the USS Arr, I'm first officer Lance Armstrong." "Greetings," she said as she shook his head. "Commander Sonja Taykinitov." "Yes, I read your file when the captain told me you were being added to the crew. You're from Minsk?" "Yes," she said as Buddy slipped past and began examining the shuttle. "You familiar with it?" "My grandmother was Russian, I'd know the accent anywhere." He started leading her towards the turbolift. "The captain said you'd whip the crew into shape." "Well, I don't know about that, but I'll do my best to improve morale. In the meantime, we should see the captain; I have our orders." The trip to the captain was unusually uneventful, but that ended once the introductions were completed. "What kind of a disciplinarian are you?" Random bellowed after he looked at her file. "Well, I'm not," Sonja said diplomatically. "But I can see you were expecting someone besides a counselor. I'm afraid that I can't quite help in the way you're thinking. But with my telepathic skills I can help your crew deal with their problems that may be affecting their work." Armstrong looked at Random rather smugly. "Such as?" Random said irritably. "Well," she looked Armstrong over. "I can tell he can use a great deal of my help." It took a second before the words sunk in. "'Scuse me?" Armstrong said. "I'm afraid you're a rather open book. You suffer from a fear of turbolifts, of doctors, and you clearly view your crewmates with suspicion and mistrust. You also seem to take perverse pleasure in the captain's mistake." "But." Armstrong seemed to search for the words. "If you knew these people-" "I understand; your paranoia seems very real to you. Trust me, we'll work through it. But not now. Captain, Admiral Roscoe has a priority mission for your crew." Minutes later the group was gathered onto the bridge along with the rest of the senior officers. "I'm afraid I have grave news," Sonja said. "The Confederation flagship has vanished without a trace." There was an audible gasp amongst the crew. "The USS Entrepreneur?" Buddy said with shock. "Yes," Sonja said sadly, "the finest ship in the fleet." "That explains why we were assigned the diplomatic mission," Armstrong said. "Captain John Frenchy would have completed it easily." "He's bald you know," Random grumbled. The crew turned to look at him. "I've seen him. Bald as a bulkhead." "Yes," Sonja said, finding it a point difficult to argue against. "Naturally command is keeping a tight lid on this for the moment, but it won't last. Our orders are to travel to the Entrepreneur's last known coordinates and see if we can determine what happened. whether it's merely disabled, or destroyed." "Low testosterone causes baldness," Random remarked. "Any idea what we can expect?" Armstrong asked. "None. Not even a ship in distress signal was received." "With a situation this dangerous, captain," Armstrong said, "I suggest we go to red alert." "That smug expression below that huge shining dome of his." Random muttered to himself, oblivious to the conversation. "I'd also suggest running holographic simulations of all possible scenarios," Armstrong added to the conversational black hole. "Good idea," Nonek remarked. "Given the lack of data I would estimate that such a run-down would take about two years. But not to worry, I'll get onto it right away." "I'll run several battle drills as well," Johnny Riprock remarked in a surprising display of clarity. "Ensign," Armstrong said, deciding to address the only person who might be listening, "set course for the last known coordinates." The trip through hyperspace was uneventful, but by no means without incident. The specific incidents were those concocted by Nonek. "And in scenario 128, the entire crew is turned into sheep." A small holographic projection showed the results. "The ship is overwhelmed within six minutes." "Oo, that's longer than we held out as beach balls," Buddy remarked with satisfaction. "Of course, once again the solution is a multi-phasic sub-harmonic shielding around the ship, which unfortunately, no cloved creature could accomplish. Barring the Seltorian Yak, of course, which developed the technology to churn its own butter due to its prehensile nasal limbs." "Perhaps your studies should be on things more relevant," Armstrong remarked through his teeth. "Scenario 129: the crew is infected with a disease that causes them to simulate drunken behavior and then travel through time. The solution: drinks all around. And a multi-phasic sub-harmonic shielding around the ship, of course." "Of course," Sonja remarked, perhaps beginning to understand the asylum she had been assigned to. "If the Entrepreneur is given up for lost," Capt. Random thought aloud, "would we go on to be the flagship?" "It's - possible," Sonja conceded. Random nodded. "Don't overdue it on the sensors, Nonek." Ignoring him, Nonek continued. "Scenario 130: a large spontaneous choreographed musical number breaks out. Scenario 130-A involves a George and Ira Gershwin type romp, in stark contrast to Scenario 130-A-prime, similar but with a style akin to the Muppet Show." "All right!" Armstrong said, letting a month of pent up frustration show through. "I get the point! It was a bad idea! Now quit wasting ti-" "Captain," Sonja interrupted suddenly, a look of horror on her face. "There's something here." ".with a hint of the piccolo," Nonek continued without pause. "There's definitely a presence," Sonja said, standing up and looking around the room in abject terror. "I sense an intelligence, more powerful and more advanced than anything I've ever felt." "It's nice to be noticed," Nonek remarked. "Moving on." "No. Captain, it's some kind of lifeform, and we may all be in danger." "I sense nothing," Nonek remarked. "Now, for Scenario 130-C." He trailed off for a moment before continuing. "I think it would go something like this." From out of nowhere came the distant sound of echoing drumbeats, quickly overlaid by primitive synthesizer. The bridgecrew found themselves unable to leave their seats, unable to even speak as the music continued. The turbolift doors opened and two lines of security guards came walking out across the bridge. Sonja, her expression changed to a kind of vacuous smile, joined them in their line. Incredibly, they began singing in chorus, gyrating in primitive dance moves involving pelvic thrusts and tearing their shirts open. "One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble Not much between despair and ecstasy One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble Can't be too careful with your company I can feel the devil walking next to me." As the singing stopped two powerful chords were heard. Even as they finished, Nonek, jar and all, came sliding into the center of the group. He didn't sing so much as chant his lines, but that did nothing to make it sound less horrific as his brain stem swung with the rhythm. "Bangkok, Oriental setting And the city don't know that the city is getting The creme de la creme of the chess world in a show with everything but Yul Brynner." He paused, taking a moment to perform a sickening pirouette, stem still swinging. The audience's face was one of horror, except for Random who seemed to be enjoying himself. "Time flies - doesn't seem a minute since the Tirolean spa had the chess boys in it All change - don't you know that when you play at this level there's no ordinary venue. It's Iceland... or the Philippines... or Hastings... or... or this place!" The security crew's dance moves became even more active and carnal as they continued their refrain. "One night in Bangkok and the world's your oyster The bars are temples but the pearls ain't free You'll find a god in every golden cloister And if you're lucky then the god's a she I can feel an angel sliding up to me." Nonek resumed his place in front of the group, hovering right next to the undulating Sonja. "One town's very like another when your head's down over your pieces, brother." Sonja retorted seductively. "It's a drag, it's a bore, it's really such a pity To be looking at the board, not looking at the city." Nonek was indignant. "Whaddya mean?! Ya seen one crowded, polluted, stinking town..." Two female security guards stepped right up to the audience like naughty Japanese school girls. "Tea, girls, warm, warm, sweet, sweet Some are set up in the Somerset Maugham suite." Nonek remained indignant. "Get Thai'd! You're talking to a tourist Whose every move's among the purest." As Sonja seductively stroked his jar the brain turned away. "I get my kicks above the waistline, sunshine." The sickening refrain kicked in again, the assorted performers somehow managing to become even more debauch than they'd been. As the singing stopped they formed a line and began riverdancing. The viewscreen behind them showed flashing lights while smoke rolled across the bridge. The line split and Nonek slipped back into the center of the room to continue his chant. "Siam's gonna be the witness To the ultimate test of cerebral fitness This grips me more than would a Muddy old river or reclining Buddha And thank God I'm only watching the game, controlling it." His voice took on a queer tone, as if he were mock scolding in some naughty S&M fantasy, which given the performers might not be far from the truth. "I don't see you guys rating The kind of mate I'm contemplating I'd let you watch, I would invite you But the queens we use would not excite you So you better go back to your bars, your temples, your massage parlours." With full fury the group took up the chorus again. Behind them those members of the crew not performing saw that this spectacle wasn't limited to the bridge. The engineers were at that moment gyrating in the manner that the overly nerdish tended towards, almost like a horde of Harold Green clones had escaped from some horrific lab and decided to get funky. Crewmen on catwalks throughout the bowels of the ship moved with the choreography of an Oscar celebration, somehow managing to be even less artistic. In Exobiology, Mick Danger slow-danced with a bear. "One night in Bangkok and the world's your oyster The bars are temples but the pearls ain't free You'll find a god in every golden cloister A little flesh, a little history I can feel an angel sliding up to me One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble Not much between despair and ecstasy One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble Can't be too careful with your company I can feel the devil walking next to me." The music ended as quickly as it had begun. At the same moment that the performers started to realize they were finished, the audience could move once again. To say the atmosphere was uncomfortable would be a gross understatement as they all did their best to avoid making eye contact with anyone else. Buddy broke the silence. "Okay, let's try that multi-phasic shield thing," he said as he hit some buttons on his panel, "and hope to hell that doesn't happen again." Nonek screamed, then flushed the liquid out of his tank. The warm embrace of the shield's activation added to the surrealism of the moment as the security guards slipped in the fluid on their way towards the doors. The crew remained stunned, except for Random who was attempting to pin a medal to Nonek's jar for exemplar performance. "Best damn comic relief officer ever," he muttered as tears formed in his eyes. Armstrong recovered next. "What just happened?" he asked. When there was no reply he shouted at Nonek. "Answer me!" "He doesn't know," Sonja said, zipping up the uniform front to cover her revealed cleavage. Nonek screamed again and flushed his jar to emphasize that point. "There's definitely some higher intelligence at work here." "Could this have something to do with the dodecahedron?" Armstrong asked. "The dodeca-whosa-what?" Riprock asked. "The dodecahedron," Armstrong said. "The nanite ship we just captured." "Nanite ship?" Random said. "Doesn't ring a bell." "We just captured it last month," Armstrong said. "Gotta look forward if you want to command a ship," Random said with a wave of his hand. "This is the best the Confederation has left to send?" a booming voice said out of nowhere. "There's a drop off in IQ if I've ever seen one. Do they send in the amoebas next? No, of course not. the amoebas have potential." "Who is that?" Riprock asked, hands poised over the weapons control with excitement. "I'm sensing self-assuredness," Sonja said. "He's certain of his superiority, and higher intelligence." "Well, so far that's Nonek," Armstrong said, "but what about the lifeform." "The other crew figured it out long before you did," the voice continued. "They hadn't even gotten through our little introduction before putting it together." "You know what happened to them?" Armstrong asked. "Obviously. Their fate is in your hands now. provided you can fair better than they. Of course, there's not many left. just the captain, the android, and the blind engineer." "Where are-" "Oops, there goes the android.. looks like he was just degaussed. He'll make a hell of a paperweight." "Who are you," Armstrong demanded. "What are you?" "I am from a different level of existence than you. And I have come to put your species to the test." It laughed with condescension. "So far I am not impressed. But we'll see if you can do better. But as for me, worms, you may address me as," there was a pause of such perfect dramatic length it could only come from a superior life form, "~." "Tilde?" Buddy asked. He was blasted from his chair. "No, ~," the voice said with frustration. "Look, ~," Nonek said, his voice unrecognizable without the sarcasm, "what is this test, and how will we be judged?" "Ah, but that is part of the test," ~ said. "But I'll try to prod you feeble-minded creatures along as best as possible." A figure appeared on the bridge, and despite everything they'd just witnessed, there was the sound of stunned awe at his appearance. "For our interactions, I'll appear as one of you. Towards that end, I shall adopt the shape of one whom you'd know and respect." He admired his form with satisfaction. "Television's John Ritter." Buddy gasped. "Tilde," he intoned. He was giving under hit for his trouble. "~," the being said with irritation. "Enough!" Random said. "You may have gotten rid of that stupid bald French captain, and don't think I'm not grateful for that. But you don 't come on this ship and strike my officers. and you sure as hell don't defile the image of John Ritter!!!" Riprock had his laser rifle out. He cocked it menacingly. "Just say the word sir," he rumbled. "Oh, the word is so given," Random said with a glint in his eye. "And let the testing begin," ~ said with a snap of Mr. Ritter's fingers. The ship began spinning wildly. The crew was thrown about, their Newtonian Disregarders having no effect on the forces the ship was subjected to as it spun through space. Untold time passed until finally, mercifully, it stopped. Armstrong pulled himself up as best he could. "Damage report," he called, but there was no answer. "Buddy, damage report." "He can't hear you, sir," Sonja said, pointing to the empty chair. Armstrong pulled himself up and checked the bridge, noting that half the bridgecrew were gone as well. "Captain." he began. "He can't hear you," ~ said coyly, sitting in Random's chair with smirking self-confidence. "I'm afraid you won't be able to blame your failures on him for this one, Lancey." "What are you talking about?" Armstrong said, ready to punch him, John Ritter or no John Ritter. "What have you done with my crew?" "I'd be a little more worried about yourself, Lance. The ship is in your hands now, just like you've always wanted it. You think you can handle it, so handle it." "There's a ship coming in," Bambi said, replicating a new cup of coffee to replace the spilled one. "Nonek-" Armstrong began. "I'm afraid you'll have to make due with your own teeny-tiny brain," ~ said. A quick glance around the room revealed that the three of them and ~ were all that were left. "Computer, how many crew members are left?" Armstrong asked. "278," the computer replied. "Out of 1520," Sonja intoned. "And so, Lance," ~ said as he started to fade, "we'll see how ready to command you really are." As he disappeared Armstrong heard him singing in his mind, "All change - don't you know that when you play at this level there's no ordinary venue." Armstrong took a deep, controlling breath, looking around the bridge. "Commander," he said to Sonja, "put the ship on the main viewer." "Aye sir," she said as she slipped into Buddy's chair. A moment later the image of a huge vessel appeared. It was unmarked, its surface composed of jutting instruments, pipes, and the occasional weapon emplacement. It was like no ship any of them had ever seen before. "What is that?" Armstrong said in awe of its size and Spartan design. "It looks." Sonja shrugged, "like a brick." The gigantic brick-shaped ship grew on the display as Armstrong wondered if the test would be even harder than he'd imagined. Arr: The Final Frontier, Part 2 "Acting Captain's Log: As of 1921 hours I, Comm. Lance Armstrong, am assuming command of the USS Arr. I do so under less than ideal circumstances, as it seems that our captain, along with most of the crew, has been abducted by an apparently omnipotent alien being known as Tilde, who has chosen to mock us by stealing the form of history's great humanitarian, John Ritter. While I must admit I've looked forward to an opportunity to apply a more conventional approach to our missions, I must also admit that the arrival of this strange new vessel that clearly is more advanced than our own has made me wonder whether this is the best time to demonstrate my command skills. But until Captain Random is returned to us, I'll have no choice but to accept what destiny has given me. End exposition." "I'm goosepimply," Bambi said with a cigarette dangling between her lips. "A message for the ages. Should I turn us around now?" "No," Armstrong said. "No matter what the situation, this is a first contact mission, and we have an obligation to see it through." "Commander," Sonja said with the kind of diplomacy only a ship's councilor could employ, "we are operating without a bridge crew, never mind a fully functioning vessel. Under the circumstances, withdrawing would be the best choice until we know more about what's going on." "I understand your concern," Armstrong said, tugging on his uniform front as he sat down in the captain's chair, "but we know this is a test by Tilde. If we turn tail now, we could fail that test." "And if we stay, we could fail as well," Sonja said. "Which is why we can't second guess ourselves," Armstrong said. "Like it or not, our mission is black-letter policy. Regardless of the situation, we have to try to establish friendly contact with these aliens." Armstrong quickly cross-referenced the personnel files with the list of crewmembers still on board. He activated the comm. "I need Chet Hardslab and Jet Beefcake to report to the bridge. Nurse Cherry Granite, I need you to take over medical while the doctors are away." He caught the look on Sonja's face and shrugged. "Weird names?" She nodded. "Don't ask." Chet and Jet took over their stations as Armstrong mulled over the situation. "Bambi," he finally said. "What, craphead," she replied into her coffee. "Send a standard hail to the ship." "Confederation standard or our standard? Because our standard is lower your shields and surrender." "Confederation standard," Armstrong replied with a sigh. If he stayed in this position, there would definitely be some changes around here. "No response," Bambi informed him, following it up with a smoke ring. Armstrong tapped the arm of the chair in thought. "Open a channel to the ship," he said. He cleared his throat. "Alien vessel," he said in a loud, clear voice, "this is the Confederation Starship USS Arr." He floundered. "We.. would like to. open a dialogue with your ra-species. about relations with us and you. and us. Close channel," he said with defeat. Bambi didn't move, glaring at him like a kindergarten teacher. "Done this before sir?" she asked without pity. "Any response?" he asked weakly. "They might still be laughing, sir," she replied, refilling her mug. "We can send it again in a few minutes. that'll give you time to come up with something even less coherent." "Ens. Beefcake," he said, then stopped and silently cursed Random, wherever he might be, "scan the vessel." "SIR YES SIR!" he screamed in excitement. Armstrong took one look at the overeager, to seriously downplay his reaction, young officer and slunk into his chair. "It's not quite what you pictured, is it?" Sonja asked. Armstrong shook his head weakly. "Perhaps you can give us a great motivational speech," Bambi suggested. "Your command of language is inspirational in and of itself." "SIR! SCAN COMPLETE SIR! NOTHING DETECTED SIR!" "What do you mean, nothing?" Sonja asked. "It's a ship out there." "YES SIR! THANK YOU SIR! SENSORS CAN'T PENETRATE THE FIELD SIR!" Before anyone else could comment, there was the quiet hum of a teleporter. They looked up in shock, every last person on the bridge. Those with weapons had their hands on them as they stared at the new arrival at the science station. Teleporting through shields was impossible, but the new arrival seemed disinterested in such trivia. It was definitely humanoid, but so much more. From head to toe artificial enhancements were evident, from cybernetic sensors to prosthetic aids. At the moment its back was to them, but that didn't put anyone at ease. "Hold your fire," Armstrong ordered, but still held his weapon at the ready. Regardless of the situation, he still had an obligation. He wasn't Buck Random; he wasn't going to shoot first and ask questions if he got around to it. First Contact needed to be handled by the book. "Greetings," he said to the new arrival. He floundered again. "This is the Confederation Starship USS Arr," he added. "The man has a gift," Bambi mumbled. "I'm sure that through open communication," he pressed on, "we can find a way to peacefully co-exist. There's so.. much.. whoa." Much like the rest of the crew, he was unprepared for when it, or rather, she, turned around. Her face was radiant, her hair long and full, and she curved sensuously. Somehow her implants, rather than detracting from her beauty, actually seemed to enhance her sexuality. But in contrast to her appearance her expression was vacant of emotion; it was as if they were just part of the scenery. Sonja cleared her voice loudly. A few seconds later she cleared it again even more violently, punctuating it with a few jabs to Armstrong's shoulder. "Commander," she said through her teeth, "the intruder?" "Yes, commander, I see her," he replied. "Bloody hell," she said as she grabbed his laser away and stepped towards the cyborg. "You've entered this ship without permission," she said, "please identify yourself and your people. If you do not reply you'll be taken into custody." She looked at Sonja, then at the laser in her hand, then back around the bridge again. Before another word was said, she vanished again, followed by a groan from the crew. "Bring her back," Chet said, a pitiful tone in his voice. "I'd like to," Sonja said sharply. "I'd like to know what the hell is going on." Even as she finished speaking they saw a shape begin to emerge, and Sonja stepped closer, laser at the ready in case the cyborg brought a weapon. "AHHHH!!!!" Nonek screamed as he reappeared behind his science station and flushed. He looked at Sonja's laser. "AHHHHHHH!!!!" he screamed again. This time he dropped out the bottom of his jar, a tiny parachute opening and cushioning his landing, where he began to slither across the room towards his back-up jar. "Nonek!" Armstrong said, surprised at his own relief to see his science officer's return. "Was anyone else with you? Is the test over?" "Of course it's over," Nonek snapped as his jar rolled up and scooped him up. The front opened like a compact disk tray and he was dropped inside. "~ wouldn't have brought me back if it wasn't complete." "And you passed?" "Of course I passed," Nonek said sharply. "Passed amazingly well. Can't believe how much I." he glowered at Sonja. "Okay, I've never had to lie before, all right? Happy now? I'm a failure. Now I know what it's like to be like the rest of you every day." The jar filled with fluid as he grumbled to himself. "I don't know how you people live with yourselves. Why don't you all just teleport yourselves into empty space and just end it?" "Commander," Sonja said, "regardless of what Tilde might or might not do, these cyborgs are obviously a threat." "Let's not be hasty," Armstrong said. "Sir, they can teleport through our shields." "Who can?" Nonek asked. "What are you talking about?" "The alien with the nice software and all the right implants," Chet remarked. "SIR YES SIR!" Jet added. "Ah, you goofy mono-sexual beings," Nonek remarked with a condescending laugh. "I can't tell you how entertaining it is watching you all preen and posture in the hopes of mating with the opposite sex. All except for Lieutenant Jax, of course, who prefers self-stimulation." "Nonek-" Armstrong began. "But being a plant-based organism kind of requires it," Nonek continued. "That's why he's often caught touching himself in inappropriate places." "Like where?" Chet asked. "Oh, the bridge, the shuttlebay, engineering." "Commander," he said to Sonja, "I do have to agree with you that, even though we're going to try to find diplomatic solutions, we need to be prepared if they turn hostile. Fortunately we have just the men in place for this kind of problem." He tapped his armchair controls. "Zero, we may need some magic from you. How's engineering?" "Fine sir," Zero replied like the rock he was. "Anything you need, just holler." "You're not missing anyone?" "No, in fact we seem to have picked up an extra." Armstrong blanched. "John Ritter?" "Nope." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "On screen." He was shocked as he saw, standing next to his chief engineer, the most famous engineer in the fleet. The miracle worker of the USS Entrepreneur himself. "Anvil LaKunta," he whispered. "Commander," he responded with a nod. He was unreadable behind his specially designed instrument that allowed even the blind to see, the Programmed Retinal-Optical Prosthesis. "I assume you've already met Tilde." "We've had that displeasure," Armstrong replied. "Do you know what happened to them, or to your own crew?" "I assume that they've been facing their own version of Tilde's sick tests," LaKunta replied. "Mine seems to have come to some kind of draw for the moment." Armstrong sunk at the news. If the finest crew in the fleet could only manage one crewmember to even break even, what chance did they have? But still, they had other problems for the moment. "Commander, do you know anything about any cybernetic aliens?" There was an obvious flash off his PROP at the mentioning. "Female cyborgs in prismatic ships?" he asked. "That's the one," Armstrong said. "Yes, the Entrepreneur encountered them; it was why we were in this part of space when Tilde arrived." Despite the aura of confidence he tried to project his hands were clearly shaking, and he seemed to brace himself on Zero. "They're called the Sorority. Prepare yourself, commander, or they'll destroy you." "BRING IT ONNNNN!!!!" Riprock screamed. Words came from out of the empty air as Riprock brandished his gatling lasers, one on each arm. They seemed far too chipper (the voices, not the lasers, which in Riprock's hands weren't necessarily chipper, but definitely talkative) for the desolate wasteland that dominated his view as a cloud of dust in the distance signified approaching enemy forces. "And the next competition is the Battle Royale, where one of our contestants takes on an entire army of angry soldiers. Who are our lucky soldiers today, Vic?" "They're a lost division of Klinkon soldiers who disappeared after their commander mistook a black hole for. what did he mistake it for?" "A very dark gray hole?" "And speaking of gray holes, they don't come any grayer than our first contestant, Johnny Riprock!" "YEAH!" he screamed. At the mention of his names his fingers tightened, sending several blasts towards the approaching Klinkons. "Whoops, seems like he released himself a little prematurely." "Some guys have that problem, Ken. So what team is Johnny on?" "He's the chief security officer on the USS Arr, specializing in making small rocks out of large ones." "Indeed, and I see the Klinkons are clearing the first hill." Riprock screamed and let both barrels fly at the advancing soldiers. Energy flooded the space around him, heating the air to temperatures most people would pass out under. Instead, tears of joy ran down his face as wave after wave of Klinkons fell before him. Thousands piled up before him so that the next attacker force had to climb over the bodies of their comrades. And then, the sickening click of dry fire filled the air. "Uh oh, looks like he's spent, Vic." "That happens to a lot of guys who've gone this long, Kenny. Oh look, he seems to have a grip on things, however." "He's going to finish the job manually?" "I think he is!" Riprock ran forward and proceeded to beat the advancing Klinkons to death with the empty lasers, teeth hitting the ground like spilled tic-tacs. Within minutes he stood on a pile of bodies, one broken laser held over his head as he screamed in victory. It took a few seconds for Capt. Buck Random's mind to catch up with his body. It was a bit like watching you lock your keys in a car... there was simply no stopping the body from doing what the brain was just figuring out was a mistake. The more he became aware of, the more true that statement became. The blue powder leisure suit was the first thing, followed closely by the corsage in his right hand. He noticed a bouquet of flowers in his other hand at exactly the moment he finished ringing the doorbell. Random looked at the situation in much the same way as a mermaid who suddenly found himself in the cockpit of Apollo 11. Random never felt off balance in his life, but finding himself in this position was a start. The finish was when the door opened. Most doors actually limited themselves to simple opening and closing, but in the hands of the alien who was behind it, it managed to offer a mixture of energy, foreboding, and for some reason, a hint of lavender. The alien regarded him with a wide grin on an even wider face. "Hi!" he said with a voice that made crazy appliance salesmen seem like Emily Dickinson. "You must be Robert! Come on in!" He grabbed Random and pulled him inside, his legs staying under him only out of habit. "Honey, Robert's here!" he called. Random was dropped onto a couch. His posture was stiff, a reflection of how on edge he was. The alien plunked down onto the sofa next to Random. He slapped Random on the shoulder to reassure him, much the same way you might calm a frightened rattlesnake. "Nervous huh?" he half asked, half shouted. Somehow Random managed to stiffen even more. "Yeah, I was nervous my first tame. On a date, I mean, which is what this is. It's definitely not your other first time, if I make myself clear." He gave him a slap on the back that would have dislocated a shoulder on most men. "Want a drink?" he asked, holding out some amber liquid. With inner gratitude, Random reached for it; the alien snatched it away. "Hah! Only kidding, I know you're underage." He downed the glass in one gulp and set it on the coffee table. "Now, just so you know, there are some rules." Random's mind finally caught up far enough to lower his hand again. "First, be back by eleven. Second, no drugs, alcohol, or smoking, and that includes sticking those cactus needles up your nose like those kids on the sunny side of the moon are doing. Hooligans. Promise me?" Random nodded hollowly. "Good. Now, third, no touching. I know what you're thinking, 'cause, heh heh, I was a toucher myself when I was your age. Ha ha... boy, did a lot of touching in those days, come to think of it. Probably those cactus needles, they just go right to your head..." He seemed lost in his personal reminiscing. "Yeah, young people, hah, so full of life! But, listen," his voice finally dropped somewhere below bombastic and took a sharp edge, "you touch my daughter and I swear I'll kick your ass." And suddenly, the world made sense again. Random perked up. Everything since ~ had whisked him away had been beyond his every experience, but... being threatened. Now that put Random back into his element. There was a quiet pitter-patter as a pair of green feet came down the stairs. The girl reached the bottom and swept her hair aside in a manner she hoped was seductive. "Sorry I'm - Daddy!" Random was repeatedly beating the father's head on the coffee table. On the third try the wood splintered and he landed on the floor in a heap. Random looked quite pleased with himself. "Are you insane?!" she demanded. Random turned to look at her, and the confusion returned. He could hit her too... but for some reason a voice in his head said that wasn't an option. He reconsidered it, then rejected it again, much to his disappointment, since eliminating that had pretty much exhausted his options. He held up the broken bouquet for her, hoping that might help. "I'm not interested in your stupid flowers!" His face fell, then he looked about for the remains of the corsage. The bell rang just as he realized what had happened to it. The girl stormed over to the door and threw it open. Capt. John Frenchy was standing behind the door. He was dressed in a full James Bond-style tuxedo. He held out a single rose and bowed slightly. "For you, mademoiselle," he said with a voice like honey. "Though the sun is out, it is as pale light t o the glow that what the devil!!!" Random jerked up. He had extracted most of the corsage from the father's mouth and was pulling the last few bits out of his gill strips. His eyes bugged out. "Random?" Captain Frenchy said in shock. "Frenchy!" Random said, dropping the corsage. "It really is hell!" Capt. Frenchy's glance flicked between Random and the woman, then gritted his teeth. "Buck," he said, "if you would be so kind..." "You know him?" the woman said with contempt. "I..." Random stepped forward, several steps behind as far as the uptake was concerned. Frenchy's arm shot out, grabbed his shirtfront, and dragged him out, slamming the door. "What the deuce is going on?" Frenchy demanded. "What just happened? And what of my ship?" "There was... I was there... then I was here... and there was flowers and no touching and, and, and there was John Ritter, JOHN RITTER! And, and then I beat her father up." "Yes, I saw." His brow furrowed as he thought; it took a moment, since there was a lot of brow. "Wait a moment, what are you doing here? This is my test, why would Tilde drop you in here?" "Test?" Random said. "What the hell kind of test was that; I got out of there alive, I pass." He walked a little ways away, calling to the sky. "Hello? Mr. Ritter? I passed. I know I haven't been to temple much lately, but I'd appreciate it if you cut me some slack." "I'm quite certain, Buck," said Frenchy haughtily, "that Tilde is not a god." "Yeah, sure," Random said under his breath to him before turning back to the sky. "Pay no attention to the blasphemer! Better yet, smite him! Just look for the shiniest, baldest head... that'll be him!" John Frenchy looked back at the house; if he could only do this night over again, he thought. He sighed, then put a hand on Random's shoulder. "Come on; let me fill you in." Random shrugged the hand off. "I'm not going anywhere with you, you're about to get smitten. Don't stand near the smite-ee, that's what I say." As Frenchy turned back to rebuke Random, he suddenly saw him in a different light. A thought crossed his mind, and then, because it was so ridiculous, a second, similar one, joined it for the company. "Smitten," he said slowly. "Interesting choice of words." On board the Arr, the tension had reached a near critical breaking point. In the face of this grim opposition, Comm. Armstrong did the only thing he could: he called a staff meeting. In the meantime, Chet Hardslab moved his controls to the captain's chair and stood fast, ready to act in the face of danger. "Ensign, report?" he asked. "All systems functioning normally, sir," she replied. "Mr. Beefcake, have you run those battle simulations?" "SIR YES SIR! ALL WEAPONS ARE PRIMED AND READY, SIR!" As the status of the ship was checked, it seemed clear that, with the exception of Ens. Beefcake's occasional reports, the bridge was serene and under control. This hadn't happened since it had been christened. Armstrong sat in the captain's position in the briefing room. He'd called in the senior-most officers, which at the moment consisted of Sonya, Bambi, Nonek, Zero, and, as a gesture of camaraderie, Anvil LaKunta. The mood was grave. "I'm sure we're all aware of why we're here," Armstrong said. "Um, I'm not," Nonek said. "I thought we should be on the bridge, flying back towards Confederation space. You can't do that when you 're in the briefing room." "I understand," Armstrong said. "We are in a difficult position, having to balance our duty to our missing shipmates against our duty towards those who remain on board. We have to weigh both." "Agreed. I suggest we go home and throw them a heroes funeral," Nonek said. "I'm afraid I couldn't, in good conscience, do that," Sonya said. "Fine, we'll throw them the funeral, then go home," Nonek snapped. "I'll do it now. Ahem. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..." "No no no," Zero said in a low voice, "it's the other one." "Is it?" "I thought you knew everything?" Armstrong remarked. "Hey, why would I know your funeral customs? Okay, um..." "If I may, sir," Sonya interrupted, "while I don't condone abandonment, I would like to reiterate my opinion that we withdraw until we have the strength to face a potential adversary." "So, you believe we should leave as well?" Armstrong said. "Yes," Nonek said. "That's two votes for going, and one for never coming back." "Commander," LaKunta said, "my entire crew is missing, but I have to agree that facing the Sorority without the most heavily armed ship available would be a fatal mistake." "I understand, but we must think about the responsibilities of first contact." They were interrupted when a voice from the bridge door yelled "crap!" "What was that?" "I think they asked for another speech," Bambi remarked, lighting up a Camel. "I think that's another vote for leaving," Nonek said. "That makes four." "We're not taking votes," Armstrong said sharply. "I'm trying to get your opinions on how we should proceed." "Crap!" "I find that argument succinct and crystal clear," Nonek said. "First contact is a pivotal moment for the Confederation," Armstrong said. "It's not something we can afford to simply toss aside when-" The ship shook violently, accompanied by the word "CRAP!" "I think that's another vote," Nonek said. "Looks like a field's been set up," Bambi said. "What?" Armstrong said. "How can you possibly know that?" "Because the ship shook, craphead." Bambi drank some coffee. "The sensors do that whenever a field is set up." "Yeah," Zero said, closing his eyes and concentrating. "Judging from the duration between shimmies, I'd say... a heavily bent gravimetric particle field." The six exited the briefing room to the bridge. "Report," Armstrong said sharply. "Sir," Chet said, jumping to his feet, "the Sorority has set up a field around this portion of space." "Zero was right," Nonek remarked from his station, "it's more powerful than anything I've ever seen." "What does it mean? Are we in danger?" "You could say that," Nonek said. "We're trapped. We can't go to hyperspace." The group slowly turned and looked at the Sorority ship looming on the display. [to be continued] (C) 2004