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The Crouton Generation Archives
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
SEASON TWO
Episodes #56 - 57
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Date: Mon, 19 Nov 90 16:48:01 EST
From: ender2@husc9.harvard.edu (-7,0] [1] {Q int. [2,4]} [5,6) (6,8)
Subject: ST:TCG ***Long***
Here it is, folks:
Next time on Staaaaar Trek: The Crouton Generation,
[The camera shot shows the Heisenberg floating thru the starry void.]
"Captain's Log. Stardate... Stardate... 101549.4. We are 2 days from
our destination of Cygnus Alpha, where we will deliver medical supplies
to colonists suffered from radiation sickness and a mutant strain of
the flu. Most of the crew have been suffering from headaches of ever-
increasing intensity in the past few days, and our own supplies of
aspirin and other painkillers is dropping fast. We cannot find any
reason for the headaches, which have already caused a level of bickering
unseen since the dreadful Midterm Incidents."
"A Pain in the Neck"
written, produced, directed, watered, and allowed to grow into a
fully-made episode by Matt Ender
Starring the crew of Heisenberg as themselves
Special guest star: Merrill Kaplan of the 14-year Headache as
Merrill Kaplan, Federation Medical Supply Officer
[The scene opens on the bridge, with the usual group of officers sitting
about. They all look unhappy, and most of the expressions reveal the
omnipresent headaches. Some are massaging their temples and neck in a
desparate attempt to relieve their pain.]
Kabeta: (winces and motions to Ensign Kleber to turn on the intercom)
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. I have an
unfortunate annoucement to make. As we all know, there have
been many cases of headaches over this journey. The supplies
of painkillers is growing low, and we must resort to rationing
them so that we may have some supply until we reach a new source.
I know this will be a difficult time for all of you, but it is
necessary so that we may reach the colony in time. Captain out."
(groans and whimpers are heard across the bridge)
Kaplan: (smiling painfully) "You people think you have it bad, I've had
_my_ headache for over fourteen years now. And I'm immune to
all of the standard painkillers! You made the right decision,
though. We need to get to the colony, pain or no pain."
(the scene lapses into uncomfortable silence. Levity is surely needed
to make the crew forget their problems.)
Kleber: "Hey, guys, don't be so glum! It's all in your heads, really!"
Bridge En Masse: "Shut Up, Michael!"
(Ensign Kleber looks hurt, and begins to mope.)
Kabeta: "Now. We shall have to hold this ship together. I've brought
us all through worse than these headaches can cause, and I'll
get us through this as well. If it will help, we'll go onto
skeleton shifts for the remainder of the mission. All unnecessary
crew to return to your quarters and rest. Pass the word to the
rest of the ship. I'm not sure if any of their ears could
take another use of the intercom."
(Looking thankful, nearly half the bridge crew vacate their posts, and head
towards the turbolift. Ensign G. O'Forever gets up and starts to go with
them, then turns back to his temporary post at Secondary Navigation.)
G. O'Forever: (smiles quietly to himself) "It was the obvious thing to do."
(Kabeta sighs and dismisses him)
[We switch to the view of someone walking down a corridor in the living
section. Further up, a door opens and Thokk shambles forth.]
Thokk: "My brain hurts!"
[Thokk passing our viewer, accidently bumping him slightly.]
Thokk: "Sorry!"
[Next we pass an open door on the right, which leads into Counselor Jiapa's
quarters. We hear pieces of a conversation.]
Lt. JG Kendragon: "... but pain is just something to live with."
Jiapa: "Now, Kendragon, look at it again ..."
[And we are past them. Our viewer makes a small cry of pain as he passes
the next door on the left, and raises his arm to massage his neck. The
camera pans left to show the door. It reads "Matt Ender / Observer /
Random-Alien-Civilization"].
[The next scene is in Sickbay, where Chief Medical Officer Ruth Hertzman
is disposing various pain-killing drugs to the crew.]
Hertzman: (to Lt. JG Kermit as she hands over some Tylenol-14 and checks off
a box on her clipboard) "And how much will we have left after
today?"
Kermit: (looking unhappy) "970 standard units."
Hertzman: "Lasting..."
Kermit: (getting decidedly nasty) "One and a half days."
Hertzman: "Don't raise your voice like that! We have enough problems as
it is. If these headaches keep getting worse, we won't have
anyone _left_ to get us to a planet with medical supplies."
(Kermit refrains from commenting on the shouted nature of the last comment.)
[We switch to a view of Ten Forward. Captain Kabeta, Cdr. Scribonia, and Lt.
Cdr. yaz-pistachio are seated at one table, Lts. JG Matthew Weiner, Henry
Bial, Michael Hutchings, and maya are at another table, drinking various
soft drinks. The usual sober atmosphere is intensified by the threat of
a hangover on top of everything else. Guendalina stands, bored, polishing
a glass. As the camera zooms in on the officers, the astute viewer notices
an odd fact: they are all drinking root beer.]
Scribonia: "And that's what Medical extrapolates."
yaz: "Lt. Edwin Aoki has run a test program on Pandora. The results
confirm what is shown here."
Kabeta: "We can't let this information spread. Despair on top of our
current condition could be fatal to our chances."
Scribonia: "We'll do what we can, but how can we stop it? Rumors
are already spreading."
Kabeta: (snaps) "Well, you'll just have to work out something out, then!
... sorry."
(Scribonia glares back)
yaz: "Don't worry about it, we're all uptight right now."
(He starts to rub Kabeta's temples)
[Back at the bridge. The headaches' intensity have, indeed, increased,
and all of the crew have really nasty throbbing migraines. Oddly, the
throbbing appears to be synchronised, but again only to the most
observant of viewers.]
Kabeta: "Only four more hours to go until" (wince!) "we reach" (through
gritted teeth) "Delares Six. I hope we can hold out."
(Lt. JG Michael Hutchings appears from a turbolift)
Hutchings: (looking around) "Oh dear... Oh dear..."
yaz-pistachio: (growling) "Does the Insecurity Officer have a report, or
is he just here to make us all feel even worse?"
(Michael Hutchings points to the sensor board, and the whole crew looks
towards it. We see a single blinking red light. The crew gasps in
alarm as they realize the implication of ...)
[Klaxons klang and sirens blare, intending to ready the crew for combat,
but in case, the effect is quite different.]
Pandora: "Run Away! Run Away!"
[Most of the crew simply crumple under the strain the noise puts on their
headaches. As heads hit consoles, three Crouton torpedoes are fired in
random direction, the shields are raised, then lowered.]
Lt. Edwin Aoki (clasping his ears): "Got... to reach..."
[He collapses under the stress. By this point, only Kabeta is standing,
and she drops to her knees.]
[Camera switches to the bridge of the bridge of the _C Dragon_.]
Taco Salsa: "Excellent. The cloaking device allowed us to penetrate
Federation space and now our prize lies before us. (To one
of the Ranchers behind him) Bring us in and fire when we're
within range."
[The picture of the Heisenberg in the main viewscreen enlarges.]
Taco Salsa: "Odd... " (grunts and shrugs) "never mind. Fire!"
[A dazzling spot of light emits from the _C Dragon_ and strikes the
_Heisenberg_. It is followed by several more.]
Taco Salsa: "Why aren't they defending themselves?"
Nameless Rancher: "Captain, sensors show a large opaque cloud at heading
53 mark 7. Does not appear to be approaching either of
us."
Taco Salsa: "Never mind it. Increase firepower!"
[Cut back to the bridge of the _Heisenberg_. The turbolift opens, and Matt
Ender staggers out. His breathing is way off and his eyes burn with a
madman's intensity. He shambles to the sensor board, then to Navigation.
Pressing a few buttons, he send the ship into an escape pattern that he
thought up while studying tactics, accelerating rapidly towards the cloud.
His eyes widen.]
[Cut back to the _C Dragon_.]
Taco Salsa: "Dammit, follow them!"
Nameless Rancher #2: "I'm _trying_..."
[Cut out to space view of the _C Dragon_, the _Heisenberg_, and the cloud.
The _Heisenberg_ is pulling away from the _C Dragon_ and towards the cloud.
The cloud starts moving to the left, and visual effects do weird things
near the edges. The _Heisenberg_ starts to slips into the cloud.]
[Cut back to the bridge of the _Heisenberg_. Matt is manning Navigation,
all the crew are still out from the headaches. The cloud grows larger on
the viewscreen. As it fills the screen, we have a shot of both it and
Matt's face, a tangled mess of hope, desparation, and madness. The cloud
fills the screen, and Matt's body grows rigid. His eyes widen, his hands
shake. Then there is a loud and he falls to the floor. Somehow,
the rest of the crew mostly recovers at this moment, and soon, all stations
are manned. Only the after-effects of the headaches remain.]
Kabeta: "We'll need our position, where is the Rancher ship, and will
somebody get Matt here to Sickbay?"
[Two of the crew lift up Matt, his eyes wide and breathing shallow, and
enter a turbolift.]
yaz-pistachio (at tactical): "The Rancher ship in not within sensor range."
(he gasps) "We're near alpha Andromedae."
Kabeta: "Alpha Andromedae?!?"
[She turns to look confusedly at the turbolift door the others left by.]
----------------
Date: Sun, 25 Nov 90 14:28:24 -0700
From: zecca@tramp (Admiral Avenger)
Subject: ST:TCG (**LONG**)
"Admiral's Log, Stardate 101573.8:
Due to a foul-up in Star Fleet records and an inadvertant mistake
by the Federation Council, everyone in Star Fleet has just been promoted
to the rank of Fleet Admiral.
Unfortunately, Star Fleet has no procedure to deal with just this sort
of problem and it is going to cause a big mess. The Fleet Admiral rank has
not been awarded since the Four Years War, and for good reason, as it is
really a war rank designed to unify long-term strategy in a large theatre
under one guiding force.
I am therefore returning to Star Fleet Headquarters in the _Rampage_
to clear this matter up with the Federation Council. I just hope that
"Fleet" Admiral Bradford can cope with the mess while I'm away."
Crouton: Fleet Admiral Chuang, sir. What is our ETA to -- Fleet Admiral
Himle, sir... Where is Fleet Admiral Chuang, sir?
Himle: Fleet Admiral Chuang is off-duty, Fleet Admiral Crouton, sir.
Crouton: On whose authority, sir?
Himle: On his own authority as Fleet Admiral, sir.
Crouton: Damn. Sir.
Highlander: I'll take care of this, sir.
Crouton: Number One, sir, I don't think it will do any good, sir.
Highlander: Why not, sir?
Daemon: Too many chiefs and not enough Indians, sir.
Ghiasi: Interesting analogy, sir.
And up at the Tactical Station:
Jez: Mrowp purrp mrowp, purrp! [I order you to feed me, sir!]
Gretzky (annoyed): Shut up, Jez, sir.
* * * * *
"The Trouble with Fleet Admirals"
Written by Admiral Avenger
Guest stars
Pierce Brosnan as Ambassador Tremalor
George Foreman as Ambassador QeghtuH'
Charlie Sheen as Commander Hugh Sane
Kevin Pollak as Deputy Commander K. Daffy
Frank Corsentino as Garg
Special Guest Stars
James Earl Jones as the Federation President
Patrick Stewart as Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard
Gary Hren as Commander qey'rI
Special Appearance by
Brent Spiner as Fleet Admiral Data
Candice Bergen as Ambassador T'Practen
Dennis Miller as Fleet Admiral Johnson
Directed by Leonard Nimoy
* * * * *
Star Fleet Headquarters, San Francisco, Earth, Milky Way Galaxy. Fleet
Admirals T'Lilith and Avenger Croutonize down to the courtyard outside.
T'Lilith is dressed out in full Klingon battle dress, with various Vulcan
IDICs and other symbols arranged upon it. Avenger wears his Admiral's
uniform and long black cloak, topped by a black wool Joe Friday-style hat.
Avenger is conspicuous in his NOT wearing the Fleet Admiral's rank pins.
Avenger: Well...let's go, dear...sir.
They walk into HQ and down a long corridor, stopped several times by
security officers, all of Fleet Admiral rank, before entering the council
chambers of the Federation Council Sub-Committee on Star Fleet Affairs.
A lot of noise is erupting from the room as they approach. Peering in,
they see a talk, striking Romulan ambassador haranguing the President
of the Federation. Fleet Admiral Data stands off to one side.
Tremalor: You jeopardize the balance of power and the chance for peace!
A Fleet Admiral rank is a war rank! So many Fleet Admirals -- how can
we believe that the Federation is NOT intending to destroy what remains
of the great Romulan Empire?!?
President: An oversight by a group of--
Tremalor: Excuses! I am not here to listen to excuses!
Tremalor storms past Avenger and T'Lilith as they are about to enter the
room. He gives T'Lilith a hard glare, which she returns, and then storms
off. Data comes half-running from the room. He stops for a moment in
front of T'Lilith and Avenger.
Data: (nods to T'Lilith) Hello, sir. (nods to Avenger) Hello, sir.
(nods to T'Lilith) Good-bye, sir. (nods to Avenger) Good-bye, sir.
Data continues off down the hallway after Tremalor. Avenger and T'Lilith
enter the room. The President sits with his head buried in his hands.
Avenger (quietly): Mr. President...
The President looks up, then sighs with relief. He stands up and extends
his hand.
President: Fleet Admiral Avenger, thank God you're here.
Avenger: My fiancee, "Fleet" Admiral T'Lilith.
The President greets her with a Vulcan salute, which she returns, and a nod.
Avenger: Can we dispense with the bureaucratic nonsense?
President: By all means.
Avenger: To be blunt -- what the hell is going on here?
President: Some numbskull on the subcommittee gave the records computer
the wrong codes and immediately promoted everyone in Star Fleet. We
can't reverse it by default, because Star Fleet has no provisions and
neither does Federation law.
Avenger: However, there is a clause which allows officers to deny any
promotion offered to them. I hereby withdraw my promotion.
President: That's very kind of you, but it won't do the trick. What about
all those young Ensigns out there who've just jumped up the command ladder?
Avenger: You're right.
T'Lilith: What about the...Romulan? What is his problem?
President: Tradition has always stated that the Fleet Admiral rank be
only given out during time of war.
Avenger: As a way of unifying long-term strategy in a large theater...
like the Pacific Ocean in Earth's World War II, where Chester Nimitz
was given overall authority of US Naval Forces.
President: Exactly. Unfortunately, the Romulans are none too happy with
this business and are threatening not only to pull out of the peace
negotiations, but to go to war over this if necessary.
T'Lilith: Illogical! They are in no condition--!
Avenger: Since when has that stopped the Romulans?
* * * * *
Crouton: Bridge to Engineering, sir.
Wizzar: Fleet Admiral Wizzar, here, Fleet Admiral, sir.
Crouton: Where is Fleet Admiral Midzor, Fleet Admiral, sir?
Wizzar: In her quarters, sir.
Crouton: Harumph. Sir. (shuts off channel) Call me if you need me, sir.
Ghiasi: Understood, sir.
Crouton leaves the bridge, enters the turbolift. He gets off at Missy's
floor and walks to her quarters. He chimes the door.
Midzor: Come in, sir.
Crouton enters. Missy is making boots.
Crouton: What are you doing, sir?
Midzor: I'm making leather boots, sir.
Crouton: Why, sir?
Midzor: I can do anything in *leather*. Sir.
* * * * *
Avenger marches quickly toward the door of Ambassador Tremalor's VIP Quarters.
Fleet Admiral Johnson, the security guard on duty, steps in front of him.
Avenger: Let me see him.
Johnson: I'm sorry, Admiral. I was given specific orders by Zippy the
Android not to let anyone in but Zippy himself, the President, or Fleet
Admiral Picard.
Avenger: Dammit, I outrank you! Now get out of my way!
Johnson: Whoa! Whoa! YOU outrank ME? Has Dan Quayle been coaching you
in Star Fleet protocol? I'm a Fleet Admiral and you're just an Admiral.
You haven't said "sir" to me once yet either. Maybe we'd better lock
you in the brig with Jim and Tammy.
Picard (gruff): Fleet Admiral Johnson, sir!
Johnson suddenly stiffens to attention.
Johnson: Sir, yes, sir!
Picard: You will vacate your post at once and confine yourself to quarters,
sir. Admiral Avenger and I will deal with you later, sir.
Johnson: Sir, yes, sir! (marches off down the corridor)
Picard (to Avenger): It's about time you got here. What the hell are
we going to do?
Avenger: I don't know, sir. I thought I'd start by talking with the
ambassador.
Picard strokes his thinning white beard.
Picard: Data's gotten nowhere with him, but I don't see why we shouldn't
try. Shall we? (offers the door to Avenger)
* * * * *
In Ten Forward on the starship _Chivalier_, in a window booth...
Abdul: So, how did you get to be a Fleet Admiral, anyway, Euge, sir?
Yee: I just remembered that gespatcho soup is served cold, that's all,
sweetie, sir.
* * * * *
Interior, HVR _C Scroll_. Commander Hugh Sane sits, plotting, chin
resting on his hand. His first officer, Deputy Commander K. Daffy stands
nearby.
Sane: So Star Fleet is in disarray and the Romulans are becoming
disagreeable. Sounds like a perfect time for Sane Master Plan 4C.
K. Daffy: Which is?
Sane: Strike the Romulans fast and hard, annex the Romulan Empire for
our own. Only then will we take the lead on the Federation in might.
K. Daffy: Very good, sir. Shall I request additional ships?
Sane (glares at Daffy): Since when do we need back-up? Isn't this the
best vessel in all the Universe?
Daffy breaks into an evil smile.
Daffy: I understand, sir. Helm, activate cloaking device.
* * * * *
In Tremalor's quarters, the Romulan has calmed considerably.
Tremalor: Romulans do not make such mistakes.
Avenger: Well, humans sometimes do. Some are afraid to admit it. Stronger
humans have no such qualms about admitting their mistakes.
Tremalor: I notice you do not wear the Fleet Admiral's rank.
Avenger: I do not deserve such a promotion, not is it warranted. We are
not at war with anyone, most of all not with your people.
Tremalor (to Picard): And you?
Picard: I too would prefer to refuse the rank on principle. However, as
the Star Fleet Commander, I would not be able to coordinate Star Fleet
if I had a lower rank than those I commanded. Chaos would ensue.
Tremalor: Chaos is already ensuing, from what my sources tell me.
Picard (uncomfortable): Yes...that is true. Until we find a legal way
to rectify this situation, there will be a certain amount of chaos.
Avenger: Ambassador, would you present your concerns to the full Federation
Council at 1600 hours? I have convened a special meeting of the Council
on just this very matter.
Tremalor: Agreed.
Avenger: And don't hold back. I want them to know exactly what kind of
trouble that damn subcommittee has gotten us into.
Tremalor: For what purpose?
Avenger: A better system of checks and balances is necessary. If your
people are truly to join the Federation, you will require your share of
the government as well. This would be a perfect time to suggest some
of those changes.
Tremalor (smiling): Ah, I see. So I could use this situation as a political
bargaining chip...
Picard (catching on): ...counter-acting anti-Romulan sentiments amongst
certain Federation members at an appropriate moment. Will it work?
Avenger: Admiral T'Lilith has talked to the Vulcan Ambassador and she has
agreed to make a statement supporting our actions. The President is
also on our side. We should have little trouble. I hope...
* * * * *
On the bridge of the _C Scroll_...
Daffy: We have entered Romulan space, sir. Approaching target.
Sane: Slow to 1/2 impulse power. Prepare to divert power from the
cloaking device to shields and weapons on my command.
* * * * *
T'Practen: And so, on behalf of Vulcan, I support Ambassador Tremalor's
concerns about the sudden military turn in Star Fleet.
A loud murmur erupts from the full Federation Council at these words.
The President allows them to continue for a moment, then interjects.
President: Thank you, Ambassador T'Practen. And thank YOU, Ambassador
Tremalor, for your concerns. (dramatic pause) Does anyone else wish
to make a statement before we vote on this matter?
QeghtuH': Romulan cowardice! We Klingons appreciate the importance of a
strong military. We see nothing wrong with the current situation and we
are not amused by these Romulan attempts to usurp power in the Federation
government.
T'Lilith: Not all Klingons see as you do, Ambassador. You are old. You
are too closed-minded. Some of us see the Romulans for what they truly are.
QeghtuH': This from someone who is not a true Klingon! She shares blood with
the Vulcans, WHO SHARE BLOOD WITH THE ROMULANS! A traitor to her own
people! Do not listen to her rambling!
qey'rI (from the doorway): Then maybe you will accept the word of a pure
Klingon when I say the Romulan speaks the truth.
Another murmur erupts from the crowd as the Klingon Ambassador flusters.
qey'rI (approaching): Romulans and Klingons in fact share many cultural
points: a strong warrior's tradition, for instance. While it is true
that we find the Romulan Code of Honor very different from our own,
remember that we also found humans customs very strange in the beginning
as well.
QeghtuH': Well, yes, but...
qey'rI: But that is not why I am here.
Another murmur from the crowd. qey'rI taps a communicator built into the
wrist plate of his battle armor.
qey'rI: HIghoS!
Four Klingons enter, pushing two apparent-humans befoer them.
qey'rI: Admiral T'Lilith, will you do me the honor of running a medical
scan on these two men, (louder) who I found tampering with Imperial Klingon
records in the Star Fleet Data Bank.
T'Lilith (scanning): These men...are Ranchers!
Loud murmur mixed with shocked outcries. The Ranchers struggle, but the
Klingons hold them fast. The President bangs a gavel.
President: Order! Order! (room quiets) Commander, what are you suggesting?
qey'rI: My science officer looked into the matter and discovered that these
...Ranchers have also tampered with a variety of other Star Fleet Records,
INCLUDING the promotion system.
Avenger: They couldn't have done THIS on their own though.
qey'rI: You are right. (taps wrist) QIlugh, HIghoS!
Three more Klingons enter, pushing Tellarite Council Member Garg before them.
President: Would you care to explain yourself, Garg?
Garg: I demand to be released by these overgrown primates! They--
Avenger: You are in a position to demand nothing, Garg. Did you collaborate
with the Ranchers?
Garg: NO! I-- (Klingon behind him twists his arm behind his back) Yes!
Yes! I did it! Now please release me!
Picard: Why did you collaborate with the Ranchers? Money? Promises of
power? Promises of dilithium?
Garg remains unusually (for a Tellarite) silent.
Avenger: We will remove you from the Council and merely send you back to your
homeworld if you tell us why. Your own people can deal with you.
Council members look curiously at the Admiral. Garg looks flustered now.
Garg: All right.
Rancher1: I knew we should have never dealt with such a weak race.
Rancher2: Damn Tellarite!
Garg: The Ranchers were going to attack the Romulans while Star Fleet was
in disarray, beginning a conflict between the Federation and the Romulans.
(pause) The Romulans would then easily be wiped out and would never gain
Federation membership.
Avenger (low, quiet, in disgust): Get him the hell out of my sight.
The Council meeting begins to disperse as the Klingons drag Garg and the
two Ranchers off to the brig. The President, Picard, Avenger, T'Lilith,
qey'rI, and Ambassador Tremalor remain behind for a moment.
Tremalor: I must warn my people. (pause) May our negotiations fare better
in the coming weeks.
Picard: Vice Admiral Data and I will do our very best to assist the
negotiations, Ambassador. If you will excuse me, I must warn Star Fleet.
Picard leaves. Tremalor approaches qey'rI.
Tremalor: We still have many prejudices to overcome, Commander, but for
all Romulans, I thank you.
Tremalor pulls his right fist to his chest in the traditional Romulan salute.
qey'rI: May we one day battle side by side, Ambassador.
In a gesture taught to them by their human allies, qey'rI and Tremalor
shake hands, then turn and leave to their respective duties.
Avenger: Well...
T'Lilith: Well...
Avenger: Here we are, thousands of light years from our duties...perhaps
we should take time for a short vacation.
T'Lilith (smiling a devilish grin): Eminently logical, boH'wI.
* * * * *
The _C Scroll_ decloaks at Romulan border outpost 23.
Sane: All power to weapons. Prepare to--
Daffy: Commander, Romulan ships--
Three Romulan warbirds decloak next to the outpost. The _USS Green Archer_
suddenly drops out of warp right behind the _C Scroll_, trapping it.
Sane: Goddammit! Activating cloaking device and get us the hell out of here!
The _C Scroll_ cloaks and warps off, leaving the Romulan and Federation
vessels behind. Sane sits in deep, angered thought.
Sane: Some day...some day...
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