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==================================
Star Trek: The Crouton Generation
Season 4, Pack #1
==================================
Date: Sun, 2 Jun 91 18:34:12 -0600
From: zecca@tramp (Emulator of Borg)
Subject: ST:TCG4 (**LONG**)
Deep space, far from the Federation. A Borg vessel speeds by. Just after
it passes the camera, a pot of gold phases into our dimensions and immediately
moves to intercept the Borg ship. Cut to interior, Borg vessel.
A Borg unlocks herself from the wall and walks to a Borg holoviewscreen.
Her skull is mostly enclosed in metal, but her pointed right ear emerges
from the mesh of digital parts. She scans the readouts and brings up the
image of the pot of gold. A light blinks and the Borg switches the visual
to the interior of the pot of gold, where a *large* Lucky Charm sits
comfortably on a pile of gold. His classically termite-shaped body is
tempered by bright red eyebrows, a shock of red hair atop his insectine head
head, and more human, or perhaps leprechaun is the better word, hands and
fingers. His mandibles shrinking, he seems to have developed an almost
human mouth behind them. He begins speaking -- smoothly, calmly...
Lucky Lecter: Borg Collective, this is Lucky Lecter of the Lucky Charms.
Prolixator: We are Prolixator. We speak for the Borg.
Lucky Lecter: We wish to discuss a truce with your people.
Prolixator: Truces are irrelevant. Discussion is futile.
Lecter: I think you *will* listen to *me*. Your people have suffered
humiliating defeat at the hands of the Federation time and again. And
you are well aware of the Borg'deurves we have tasted.
Prolixator: Humiliation is irrelevant. The Borg will continue.
Lecter: My people have also suffered defeat at the hands of mankind. It
is time we put our heads together, so to speak, and defeat this mutual
thorn in our sides.
Prolixator: Your ideas have merit. You may speak.
Lecter: I propose a Unification, if you will. Your people and mine,
together, will consume these humans and their technology and become
the most advanced life forms in the Universe.
Prolixator: The Borg wish to improve all species through assimilation.
Your plan has merit. We will proceed.
Exterior. The pot of gold moves forward, and simultaneously phasing,
enters and combines with the Borg vessel. Interior. Lecter steps out
of the Borg viewer and into the Borg vessel. Prolixator turns and Lecter
follows her through the corridors.
To the tune of "Gilligan's Island":
Lecter: Just sit right back, you won't feel a thing,
As they insert the microchips.
They're well-trained and they're efficient,
And so are both our ships.
The Borg are a mechanized entity
The Charms are hungry tots.
The humans won't have a chance this time
Against Lucky robots...
Against Lucky robots...
The music fades out as they stop at a black bed-shaped bench surrounded by
hardware.
Lecter (evil grin): Shall we begin?
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
"The Silence of the Croutons"
Part 1: "And We Walked Out Once More Beneath the Stars"
Written by Admiral Avenger
(With a tip o' the keyboard to Thomas Harris)
(And thanks to Crossfire for his comments and suggestions)
Guest Stars
Mart McChesney as Lucky Lecter
Lalla Ward as Prolixator of Borg
Rick Berman as Admiral Paul Murgrave
Special Guest Stars
Anthony Hopkins as the voice of Lucky Lecter
James Earl Jones as the President
Patrick Stewart as Jean-Luc Picard
Special Appearance by
Constance E. Flieder
Directed by Penny Marshall
Incidental Music by Ron Jones
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Crouton: "Captain's Log, Stardate 102979.5:
Now that the latest trouble with Nyarlthotep is over, Star Fleet has
granted our crew two weeks' shore leave here on Earth while the opportunity
is there. I will be visiting my parents in Corning and Highlander will be
spending his time in his ancestral home near Aberdeen, so I am leaving Soraya
in command of the skeleton crew. The death of Tlazolteotl still haunts my
dreams, and I am hoping the visit home can help me come to terms with my loss.
On a personal note, I have been meaning for some time to have my middle
name changed. I will take care of this at some point during my live. Please
note for future Star Fleet records that my middle initial will be 'P' and
not 'L.'"
A warning light begins to bleep on the ops station. Jez, dozing in the
chair, opens one eye, then hops up fully awake to deal with it.
Jez: Mrow. [Soraya...]
Soraya: What is it, Jezzie?
Jez: Meowr mrow meowr. [Priority one transmission from Star Fleet Command.]
Soraya: I'll take it in the Captain's office. Thanks.
She scratches Jez behind the ears and then walks into Crouton's office.
Soraya: Zen, open the channel.
Zen: Confirmed.
Murgrave: Lt. Cdr. Ghiasi? Paul Murgrave.
Soraya: Good afternoon, Admiral. What is the problem?
Murgrave: We've received some rather disturbing messages from Admirals
Avenger and Talbot. Seems the Kelvins are acting up again in the SMC
and Admiral Avenger reports 6 Lucky Charm sightings in the past week.
Soraya: Sounds troublesome.
Murgrave: Well, it sounds like you're needed, so you'd better start
recalling the crew.
Soraya: They're not going to like this. It's the first Earth shore leave
they've had in quite a while.
Murgrave: That's the breaks, Commander.
* * * * *
Soraya: "Captain's Log, Stardate 102980.1:
I've finally made contact with all the crew and Captain Crouton and
Karim are returning by shuttlecraft momentarily. Star Fleet Command is
making some last minute personnel and supply transfers while we prepare
to get under way."
Lt. Chuang enters the bridge, fresh from his vacation, and sits down at
the con console. Almost immediately, a light flashes.
Chuang: Soraya, incoming message from Star Fleet Command.
Soraya: On screen, please.
Murgrave (sadly): _Croutonprize_, this is Admiral Murgrave. I am sad to
report that Admiral Picard suffered a stroke early this morning and is in
critical condition at Bethesda Star Fleet Hospital. He has requested
Lt. Cdr. Crossfire's presence. (pause, then a cough) I'd suggest he hurry.
Soraya (mood changed): Yes, Admiral. _Croutonprize_ out.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
You knew him as Captain Kirk...
[Captain Kirk rushes forward, phaser in hand.]
And TJ Hooker...
[Hooker riding on the front of a speeding car through traffic.]
And now, William Shatner returns to series television:
"Get a Life"
The story of a bad Canadian TV actor who now makes his living on the
convention and talk show circuit. Premieres this fall on Fox!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A forest, with a crowd of men assembled. Standing apart from them is a
twelve year old boy, with an apple atop his head.
Knight: All right, Tell. If you can shoot the arrow from the top of your
son's head, then you are both free to leave. It is more likely that
you will kill your own son and face the king's dungeon.
Crossfire: Just keep these people quiet and watch a master in action.
Crossfire draws back the string and loads his arrow. He aims and a door
suddenly opens between him and the boy. Soraya walks through.
Crossfire: Sh**! (slowly releases tension on bow) Zen, freeze program.
Soraya: Crossfire, I'm sorry... It's Picard. He's very ill.
Crossfire: What happened?
Soraya: He suffered a stroke. He's alive, but he may not be tomorrow.
He wants to see you.
Crossfire, somewhat rudely, shoves his prized bow into Soraya's hand and
marches out of the Holodeck without another word.
Soraya (quietly, after him): I'm sorry...
Soraya stands quietly for a moment, then looks at the bow, raises and
eyebrow, then turns.
Soraya: Zen, continue program.
Knight: What trickery is this, woman?
Soraya releases the arrow, which sails cleanly through the air and pierces
the apple, knocking it to the ground. The knight and the other's assembled
stand dumbfounded and the boy rushes forward to hug Soraya. Releasing him
and lowering the bow, she turns to the knight and sticks her tongue out.
Soraya: Pppphhhtttthhhh.
* * * * *
_USS Green Archer_, on patrol near Tholian space.
Wang: Captain, I am getting a really strange reading here...
Atkinson: What do you mean "strange"?
Wang: Well, it looks like a Borg ship...but it has some of the resonance
traces of the Lucky Charm Masters ship from the Battle of Mars.
Atkinson: Well, how could that be?
Panda (from Ops): It's turning toward us. What should we do?
Atkinson: Red alert. All hands to battle stations. Get Wesley up here.
Ha ha ha ha ha!
Everyone on the bridge stares at the captain.
Atkinson: Okay, so it wasn't funny.
Panda: We're being hailed, Captain.
It begins, audio only. The voice is that of a Lucky Charm, but it sounds
as if it is supported by a thousand others. The voice is calm and cool,
but still with a twist of emotion.
Lecter (ss): I am Lucky Lecter...
Switch view to visual. A huge Lucky Charm appears on the screen, his head
turned to one side. He slowly rolls his head toward the camera, revealing
his red shocks of hair and more humane features...and more. Electronic
circuitry wired into his head, a red laser shining into the camera, even
an electric can opener above his right eye.
Lecter (ss): ...of Borg. Resistance is futile. You will be consumed by
the Borg. (evil grin) What do you think, Prolixator? A Chardonnet
would go nicely with a Federation captain, wouldn't it?
The view expands to include Prolixator. A small pair of mandibles has
begun to grow from either side of her mouth and she wears a typically
Lucky Charm grin.
Prolixator (ss): Mmm...mmm...good.
Atkinson: I don't think so. Con, Warp 8, any direction!
The _Green Archer_ leaps to Warp 8, unfortunately straight toward the
heart of Tholian space. The Lucky Borg ship, a conglomeration of typical
Borg cubism with a gold sphere overlay, springs into pursuit, easily
bearing down on the _Green Archer_.
Lecter (ss): So you like games. Does this excite you? Are you having
enough of it yet? Should we race some more, get the adrenalin and
testosterone flowing?
Atkinson (ignoring): Push us to maximum warp.
Wang: Tholian forces moving this way.
Panda: Captain, the engines can't take this...
Atkinson: We're not losing them! Faster!
Lecter (ss): Well, of course not, you silly boy. There's more than one
way to skin a cat, you know. (A very human tongue leaves Lecter's mouth
and licks his mandibles.)
Panda: Tholian vessels firing...
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
We asked cats which they preferred -- Pounce...or new *improved* Pounce.
Kitten: Mrow. Meowr mrow. Grrowl mrow. [Hmm. Nice bouquet. I really
like this new Pounce better.]
Jez: Prrrrup. Meowr mrowp. Mrow mrrrroooowww? [Less filling. Tastes
great! Do you have some more?]
Shenando: Mow. [Duuuuhh....]
Yes, 2 out of 3 cats agree -- new Pounce is the best!!!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Intensive Care Unit, Bethesda Star Fleet Hospital. Crossfire barges into the
room, past several nurses and interns who are trying to stop him. Picard's
doctor looks up from her readings.
Flieder: No, it's all right. Let him pass.
Crossfire: How is he?
Flieder: Not good. Irregular breathing, low pulse. He's paralyzed down
most of the left side of his body. That stroke damaged his artificial
heart as well, and and at his age, it's risky to install a new one.
(lowering her voice further) There's also the possibility of brain damage.
Picard (hoarse, through half-shut eyes): Don't finish me off yet, Doctor.
I've been in (cough, cough) worse situations than this before.
Flieder: Admiral, I--
Crossfire: Can we have a moment alone, Doctor?
Flieder (whispering): I really shouldn't leave his side. He could--
Crossfire (emphatically): Please, Doctor. A moment alone.
Flieder: All right. I'll be on the other side of that door if I'm needed.
Dr. Flieder exits to the hallway, where several interns approach her with
questions about Picard's condition. When Picard begins to speak, it is
only very quietly. He doesn't appear to be able to move his left side
and he doesn't attempt to sit up.
Picard: Thanks for coming.
Crossfire: You wouldn't believe all the reporters I had to fend off
downstairs.
Picard (sarcastically): When the creator of the Picard Maneuver and the
Picard Miracle is on his deathbed, everyone takes interest.
Crossfire: How can you joke at a time like this?!?
Picard: I've come to learn that a sense of humor can get me through the
most painful situations. (cough) It is better to whistle past the
graveyard than to shut one's eyes and scream. (pause, deep breath)
Bob Avenger was my best teacher, but by no means the first.
Crossfire: Jean-Luc, what can I do for *you* now?
Picard: Crossfire...you've been a wonder...a godsend to Star Fleet. You've
helped us out of some of the worst traps we've ever been in.
Crossfire: I was only following your lead, sir. You have set an example
for all of us repeatedly throughout your life.
Picard: But I don't respond like you. (pause, cough cough) You have also
been a friend, and it's been a pleasure to watch you grow these past few
years.
Crossfire: Look, Jean-Luc, let's not start this deathbed sentimental bullsh--
Picard: I meant grow as a person, as an officer, as a *leader*, Crossfire.
You don't need to be alone any more. You've shown that you can work as
part of a team.
Crossfire: Jean-Luc, I'm not a team player and you know it.
Picard reaches out with his right hand, and grasps Crossfire's upper arm as
tightly as he can manage in his condition, which isn't to say much.
Picard: Dammit, Crossfire, you listen to me. (tiring) Star Fleet will
not lose you and you will not lose Star Fleet! Star Fleet will go on
without me as it did before I was a part of it. I have had a good life
and it has served me and I it well. But the time has passed. Don't
throw your life away just because of this.
Crossfire: Is that an order, sir?
Picard closes his eyes a moment, coughs twice, then opens half-way.
Picard: Is that the only way I can convince you?
The doors slide open and Admiral Murgrave and the President of the
Federation enter.
President: I'm sorry, Picard. I only just heard.
Picard: Thank you, Mr. President. (cough cough)
Picard now seems to be struggling to retain consciousness.
Murgrave: We've had a report from the Tholian border...it doesn't sound
good. The message was kind of garbled, but something about Lucky Charms...
...and Borg.
Picard (in a whisper): F***.
Crossfire is surprised by Picard's language, both because of the President's
presence and because he would have expected something French.
Picard: Avenger...get Avenger...he's run...the fleet before,...he can do
it...again.
President: He won't do it and you know it.
Picard: He will...(gasp)...if he has to.
Murgrave: I'll put the word out, sir, but I'm worried.
Picard: Crossfire...(gasp)...don't let...me down...(cough cough)... They
need you...(gasp)...we all...(gasp)...need you... (cough cough cough)
Crossfire (concerned): Jean-Luc, are you all right?
Picard's response is with a force in his voice that hasn't been heard
in fifty years, though it doesn't last past the first line.
Picard (delusional): Yes, Beverly, I'm fine! (cough, cough) What was
that, Wesley?...(cough cough)...Good God, Jack -- don't!!!
Crossfire fights back the bile rising in his throat as he looks painfully
away from his aged friend. He can't stand to see Picard like this -- without
his dignity intact.
Picard (smiling): What...was that about...my thighs? (frowning) Ensign
Crossfire,...would you be...a little more careful...with your guacomole?
Picard is really struggling with his breath now. Crossfire nearly smiles
at the last comment, but his expression is more a mixture of pain and
nausea. Murgrave dashes to the door and motions for Dr. Flieder.
Picard (impassive Borgish): Resistance is hopeless... (in hysterical tears)
...Number...(cough cough)...One...
Flieder: What's happening?
President: He's begun to hallucinate and he's having trouble breathing.
Flieder (hitting communicator): Emergency Recovery team to Picard ICU - stat!
Crossfire: Don't let this continue, Doctor. (forcefully) Make it stop.
Flieder (flustered): I...I can't just kill the man.
The ER team arrives, hovering at a slight distance like vultures.
Picard (grinning): Jenice... (reduced to a faint smile) ...Walker...
...Data......Rene........Robert..............
The monitors register a heart murmur as a final sound escapes Picard's lips.
Picard: ...guinan...?
The heart and breath rate flatline and the emergency team moves in. They're
fast and efficient and doing little good, but they sure are trying.
Crossfire: Damn it, will you just let him go!!
All brain activity flatlines. Dr. Flieder has lost another one. She closes
Picard's eyes while her team slowly pack their gear.
Crossfire turns and bolts toward the door. Only half open, he smashes it
out of alignment with his shoulders as he pushes through, barely slowed.
The door is damaged and finds that it isn't quite able to shut, but it
continues to try to close, bouncing back open on each try.
Dr. Flieder looks sadly to the President and to Murgrave. With just the
faintest sign of a tear welling in her eye, she picks up her equipment and
slowly walks out of the room. The President takes a deep breath and lowers
his head, then looks up for one last look at Picard. Then he and Murgrave
leave the room.
* * * * *
Cut to:
Aerial shot, as if it were taken from the ceiling lights. About 20 seconds
of still, quiet shot of Picard's body with the door still opening-closing
in the background.
SLOOOOOOW FADE TO BLACK
Once completely black:
"TO BE CONTINUED"
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Next time, on an all-new episode of
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
"The Silence of the Croutons"
Part 2: "The Exchange"
Reeling from the death of Picard, our heroes must fight to stop a new force
in the LMC.
Prolixator: We are Prolixator...of Lucky Borg.
Will Soraya be able to convince Crossfire to help?
Soraya: You're resigning? Why???
Will the _Subaru_ be able to withstand a Lucky Lecter assault?
[Ensign Yi is flung across Engineering by a Lucky Borg.]
Or will the Lucky Borg shut out Missy's lights permanently?
[Engineering is filled with Lucky Borg screwing with the instruments
when the lights go out.]
Lucky Charm death trap on Star Trek: The Crouton Generation!
amp &
[1] 17453
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: Tue, 4 Jun 91 01:54:27 -0600
From: zecca@tramp (Emulator of Borg)
Subject: ST:TCG4 (**LONG**)
Crouton: "Captain's Log, Stardate 102980.7:
News of Admiral Picard's death has spread throughout the fleet, but
this new Lucky Charm threat has us all on the edge of our seats. I know
we need to return to the LMC, but I can't help but pause out of respect
for a man that launched a thousand Star Fleet careers. Worst of all, I
don't know how Commander Crossfire is taking this."
Crossfire's Quarters. Crossfire is stuffing his belongings into a large
duffel bag. His weapon's trunk has been pulled into carrying position and
rests next to the door. The door chimes. He ignores it. It chimes again.
Soraya (outside, pounding): Would you let me in???
Crossfire continues to ignore her. Finally the door opens and she enters.
Crossfire: I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to talk to *anyone*.
Soraya: Fine. But you're still a Star Fleet officer, so you *have* to
listen to me.
Crossfire: No, I don't.
Soraya: What do you *mean*, "No, I don't."? Do you know what I can do
to you for that kind of insubordination?
Crossfire hands her a padd. She glances at it, then looks at him harshly.
Soraya: You're resigning? Why?!?
Crossfire: None of your business.
Soraya: I'm sorry about Picard. I really am. He was someone to admire.
But we'll get through this.
Crossfire: Shut up.
Highlander (just entering): Don't talk to her that way. She's just trying
to help.
Crossfire: What is this? "Everybody interfere with Crossfire's personal
life" day? Why don't you people just get off my back?
Soraya: Because, for what little it's worth with you, we care.
Crossfire: Yeah, well that's not good enough.
Highlander: Crossfire, you're throwing a rather distinguished career away.
Crossfire: Yes, well...
Crossfire pulls himself up to his full height, standing toe to toe with
Highlander, making full eye contact with the much smaller first officer.
Crossfire (matter-of-factly): If I was in this for my career, *I* would be
the first officer of this ship.
Crossfire picks up his duffel bag, then the weapon's trunk, and walks out the
door. Highlander and Soraya look at one another, concerned and mystified.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
"The Silence of the Croutons"
Part 2: "The Exchange"
Written by Admiral Avenger
(With a tip o' the keyboard to Thomas Harris)
[For further background information, read Peter David's "Vendetta"]
(And continued thanks to Crossfire)
Guest Stars
Mart McChesney as Lucky Lecter
Wil Smith as Ensign Fresh
Lalla Ward as Prolixator
James Carrey as Janson
Alyssa Milano as Practor
Special Guest Stars
Anthony Hopkins as the voice of Lucky Lecter
James Earl Jones as the President
Directed by Tony Perkins
Incidental Music by DJ Jazzy Jeff
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
hj: "Captain's Log, Stardate 103000.2:
[To the tune of "Dixieland"]
'Oh, I wish I always were a starship captain,
Comfy seats and we're always rappin'
And commands! I love commands! I love commands!
I'm the cap!'
Oh, did I mention I like being the captain? It's great. No more lusers
to deal with. Wellll, there *is* Practor. (pause) Sadly, Lt. JG Thokk
has returned to the _Heisenberg_, so it's time to choose a new Security Chief
for this ship. I decided to honor the late Admiral Picard and make everyone
go in the conference room and give me suggestions.
Meanwhile, in response to this recent Lucky Charm uprising, Missy
has Ensign Quixote making improvements to the Plasma Penetrating Round
system, since Kabeta reported some Lucky Charm resistance to the weapon
a few months ago. I sure hope he keeps that damn dog of his out of the
tube while he's working though. (pause) On second thought, maybe that's
the perfect place for him. (chuckle) Launch PPR! Hee hee hee."
Interior, Conference Room, _USS Subaru_. It is already collecting dust.
Commander Palmer and Lt. Cdr. Midzor brush away some dust and sit down.
Palmer: You're going to hate me for saying this. She's going to hate
me even more. (groan) I can just see all the push-ups I'll be doing.
Midzor: What? You're not suggesting--?
Palmer: Yes. We need a new security chief and we need one now. I don't
see that we have another choice.
Midzor: She's not going to like this...
* * * * *
Bridge, a few minutes later. Doors to conference room open and Captain hj
storms out.
hj: No no no no NO!!!!!!
Palmer: Yes.
Midzor: I hate to say it, but I think he's right. He's the only option
we have at the moment.
hj: All right. All right! Tell you what. We'll try it out for a few
days and if I still can't stand it, we'll change. All right?
Palmer/Midzor: Okay.
hj: Oh. And both of you, drop and give me 100. (evil grin) And make sure
you count out loud.
Palmer and Midzor drop to the floor to begin doing push-ups.
Midzor (under her breath): Yes, Captain Bligh.
Palmer can't suppress a chortle.
hj: That's 150, Jimbo.
Kessner: Incoming message from the _Croutonprize_, milady. Audio only.
hj (whirling around): That's *CAPTAIN* milady to you. Let's hear it.
Crouton (ss): This is Chris Crouton. We took pursuit of the new Borg
vessel two weeks ago, but it slipped away from us a day or so ago.
Apparently, they were playing with us all along, for their warp drive
is still much more capable than ours. We should be arriving in the LMC
in a few hours. They may already be here. Play it safe. Crouton out.
hj: Well, isn't that special?
Palmer: Recommend a standing yellow alert.
hj: Well, I think most of the crew would prefer to sit down... (pause)
...therefore I like your idea. Standing yellow alert.
The bridge alert lights begin to flash yellow. hj surveys the bridge...
hj: I said a *STANDING* yellow alert.
Palmer, Kessner, Practor and all the other seated members of the bridge
crew stand up and try to continue their duties from this position.
hj: Now that's better.
* * * * *
In the Crouton Torpedo Bays...
Missy: Have you finished those improvements yet?
Dave Quixote's head pops up out of a floor panel.
Quixote: I have indeed, Mistress Missy. But please...you must hide.
There is a dragon on the loose I must slay and I do not wish you to come
of harm.
Missy: Dragon? What the hell are you talking about?
Quixote: Hark! I can hear Sancho coming this way. He is luring the
dragon to my sword.
Sancho comes running through the bay, yapping madly. Shenando, the white
wonder, bounds happily after him. Quixote springs up from the floor, sword
drawn.
Quixote: Come back here, dragon! Face your destiny!
Missy (losing her temper): Dave! That is my cat and you will not harm a
hair on his head! And Captain hj wants to see you on the bridge -- now!!
Quixote: An audience with my queen? Oh, I am in joy.
Quixote dashes off to the nearest turbolift. A moment later, Sancho comes
running through again as if he's running for his life and seconds later
Shenando comes bouncing past.
Missy: ARRRRGGHHHHH!!!!!
The room goes black.
* * * * *
Quixote kneels before the captain's chair.
Quixote: What is your bidding, my queen?
hj (aside): Did I mention that I like being the captain? (to Dave) Your
promotion has come through from the Fleet. You now carry the rank of
Lieutenant, Junior Grade.
Quixote: I will serve you faithfully in your quest, My Queen. Your knight
will serve you dutifully.
hj: One more thing. (loud enough for everyone to hear) I have been forced
to conclude, rather reluctantly... Now where the hell have I heard those
words before? (shakes her head) Anyway. We're going to try you out as
Thokk's replacement at the tactical station for a few days. If you can
handle it -- and keep that damn dog off the bridge!! -- then maybe I'll
let you stay.
Quixote: Yes, Your Highness. I will inform Sancho that he is to remain
outside the Throne Room, as befits a lowly squire under his Queen's wishes.
hj: Thank you. Enough of this babbling! Eric, how about some plot?
Kessner: Uh oh. (sits down to read instruments -- he's been standing
ever since the standing yellow alert was put into effect)
Palmer: What is it?
Dave Quixote has reached the tactical station by now.
Quixote: My Queen, the French army marches on your castle.
Jellis: What?
Practor: The Borg. Right on schedule.
hj (taps panel): Missy, we're going to need full power...and the lights.
Missy (ic): Grrrr...
hj: Dave, how were those weapons improvements coming along?
Quixote: Your Majesty's cannons should be able to fire twice as hard and
with twice as much force.
hj: Thank you. That's good to know.
hj stands up, but still looks short next to her first officer. (Gee, sort
of like Picard and Riker, huh?)
hj: Red Alert. All hands to battle stations. Dave, dispatch security
to all vital areas. The French may overrun the castle any minute.
Eerie, creepy music, like something from "The Best of Both Worlds" or
a *real* horror film, starts to eminate from the bridge sound system.
hj: What the hell?
Jellis (turning down the volume): Well, it *seems* appropriate, Captain.
* * * * *
Exterior. The Borg/Lucky Charm vessel approaches the _Subaru_. It seems
to phase slightly in and out of normal space as it moves, and it's cubic
frame seems to be offset a bit by the goldish color of the metal.
* * * * *
Ensign Jellis now has a full programmable synthesizer set up at the back
of the bridge. She begins to play appropriate background music, not exactly
like, but much like the organist at a baseball game.
hj: Practor, prepare for evasive manuevers. Kessner, hail the ship.
Practor: We are already being hailed, Captain.
The viewscreen changes to the interior of the Borg vessel. We see the
back of a female Borg. As she turns to face the camera, we first note
the pointed ear sticking out from the electronics. As she turns to face
us, we notice the small set of termite mandibles forming at the edges of
her human mouth. Her skin seems to have become a little tougher than
that of the average Vulcan.
Prolixator: We are Prolixator...of Lucky Borg. You will lower your
shields and allow us to consume you.
hj: And what if we don't?
Prolixator's mouth forms a smile...an ominous sign to the members of the
crew that have faced the impassive Borg before.
Prolixator: Then you will be eaten... (closes channel)
Jellis plays out a really creepy bit of music now. hj glares at her.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
Missy Midzor is being interviewed on Late Night with David Letterman.
Missy: So then, I pried Shenando out of the wall and Jez--
The entire studio goes dark.
Missy: DAMMIT!!!
Letterman: Yes, folks, it's those reliable *GE* parts!! Ha ha ha!!
Announcer: "It's time to change your light bulb..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
President (tape): "And so, Admiral Avenger, Star Fleet repeats its request
for you to resume the role of Star Fleet Commander. With Picard gone, we
need the best leadership available and that is you."
On the word "Picard," Avenger stiffened noticeably. He slams the stop
button down.
Avenger: Loqutus, begin message to the Federation President. Make carbon
copies to Admirals Murgrave and Van Tripp.
Loqutus: Carbon copies are irrelevant. Subspace is futile.
Avenger: Shut up and Mrowp Bo [Just do it.]!
Loqutus: Begin message, inferior species.
Avenger (shaking his head): Mr. President, I must inform you again that I
have no intention to resume the role of Star Fleet Commander. I am a field
Admiral and I will remain one. Considering the current situation, I'd
suggest my services are better needed here. Besides, I thought I was
falling out of favor with Star Fleet Command???
I do have a suggestion of my own for someone to...fill in for Picard.
He is an excellent strategist, as well as an outstanding leader, and he has
had great interaction with both the Romulans and the Klingons during his
distinguished career as captain of both the _Sagan_ and _Invincible_.
His assistance was also vital during the Borg Dilemma several years ago,
which makes him an even better choice for the job considering recent
troubles. I am speaking of a man I served under early in my Star Fleet
career: Admiral Wesley Van Tripp.
Talk to him and explain the situation. I assure you he'll come through.
(pause) Loqutus, end message.
Loqutus: Completion is futile. Your message is irrelevant.
Avenger: You may be right. I wish the President would stop pressuring me...
Fresh (ic): Yo, Admiral, you there?
Avenger (cheered up a little for the first time today): Ensign Fresh, my man.
Fresh (ic): Incoming message for you, audio only. Should I patch it through?
Avenger (cheering up has ended): Sure. What the hell...
The voice begins... It sounds vaguely Borgish, with something else. It has
also obviously been run through a voice spectrum analyzer and boosted to a
higher frequency.
[ To the tune of "Fish Heads" by Barnes & Barnes ]
Croutons, croutons, crispy crunchy croutons.
Croutons, croutons, eat them up -- Yum!
In the morning, crispy crunchy croutons.
In the evening, sifted 'cross a _Salad_.
Croutons, croutons, crispy crunchy croutons.
Croutons, croutons, eat them up -- Yum!
Feed a Crouton anything you want to.
They won't eat it. They're allergic.
Croutons, croutons, crispy crunchy croutons,
Croutons, croutons, eat them up -- Yum!
I took a crouton away to be assimilated.
Didn't have to work to make things dark.
Croutons, croutons, crispy crunchy croutons.
Croutons, croutons, eat them up -- Yum!
Well, some play baseball and some play hockey.
They're not good dancers, but they know C.
Croutons, croutons, crispy crunchy croutons.
Croutons, croutons, eat them up -- Yum!
Crispy crunchy croutons are never seen drinking Mason's root beer
in Italian restaurants with ordinary women! Yeah!!
Croutons, croutons, crispy crunchy croutons.
Croutons, croutons, eat them up -- Yum!
Croutons, croutons, crispy crunchy croutons.
Croutons, croutons, eat them up -- Yum! Yum!
Croutons, croutons, crispy crunchy croutons.
Croutons, croutons, eat them up -- Yum!
Crou-tons, crou-tons, cris-py crun-chy crou-tons.
Crou-tons, Crou-tons, eat them up -- Yum! Yeah!!!
Avenger: Fresh, is that it?
Fresh (ic): Yo, man. That is some weird sh--. (Avenger closes intercom)
Avenger (banging his head on the desk): This is more serious than I thought.
* * * * *
Luckified Borg and Borgified Lucky Charms begin to tackle the _Subaru_ warp
drive chambers. Exciting and creepy music continues to spill forth from the
speakers as Jellis does her job. Ensign Yi rushes forward, trying to stop
them, but they simply fling him across the room.
Missy: Dammit!
Missy intentionally shuts off the lights in Engineering. This doesn't
seem to help. The Borg/Charms all begin to shine their lasers around.
She turns the lights back on just as Quixote and his team enter.
Quixote: What foul creatures are these masquerading as French soliders?
Quixote's team fire their phasers, but this does little good. Despite
the fact that current phaser technology can overcome Borg adaptativity,
the Lucky Charm influence is apparent. Quixote draws his sword and moves
forward.
Quixote: Have at you, evil minions of Louie!!
Quixote swings at the nearest Borg and hits it near the right shoulder.
It falls and seems to become deactivated. Swinging at one of the Lucky Borg,
the Lucky Borg raises an arm and snaps Dave's sword in two, though it cuts a
deep wound into the Lucky Borg in the process. Suddenly, dramatically, the
Lucky Borg change tactics. One steps interdimensionally and appears behind
Missy, grabbing her with a mechanical arm just behind the right ear.
Missy: Hey---..y.... (passes out, still standing)
The Borg/Charms return to their ship, Missy in tow. The damaged Borg remains,
still solid, on the floor.
Quixote (taps communicator): My Queen, I have failed you...
hj (ic): What happened?
Quixote: The French who are not French...they have taken Lady Missy hostage.
Jellis' music takes a sad turn. It suddenly squeals and a crash is heard
from the bridge.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
Coming this Christmas to a theater near you...
Christopher Plummer! Kim Cattrall! Kurtwood Smith! David Warner!
Klingons! Klingons! Klingons!
Captain Sulu!!!
From the creative team that brought you STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN...
STAR TREK VI: THE APOLOGY
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
hj: "Captain's Log, Stardate 103000.5:
Immediately after hijacking Missy, the Lucky Borg took off at high
warp. When we tried to pursue, they interphased partially into Lucky
Charm dimensions and increased speed. Their few minutes of tinkering
with the engines caused enough damage that we had to shut down warp drive
after a few minutes of pursuit. We now continue at impulse power while
Engineering picks up the pieces.
Meanwhile, Lt. Jellis has put in a requisition for a new synthesizer.
Excuse me for getting a bit annoyed with her background tunes!"
Sickbay. The damaged Borg lies on a cot in an isolation ward. Dr. Jen-L
takes medical scans while Ensign Yi examines Dave's blow to her shoulder.
It apparently has pierced some piece of electronics, but has caused no
physical harm. We now recognize the Borg as Prolixator, who now stares
blankly at the ceiling.
Jen-L: Well, she's alive...
hj: Doctor...what does all this mean?
Jen-L: About fifty years ago, Picard...
Jen-L suddenly silences herself on the mention of his name.
Jen-L: The _Enterprise_-D encountered a similar occurrence. Apparently,
if a Borg is hit in the right million-in-one location, she can be
separated from the Borg Collective *without* her self-destruct device
taking over.
Palmer: Great, so what does all that mean?
Jen-L (looking up): It means that we can separate her from the Collective
and help her to return to society. (her look turns sour)
hj: What?
Jen-L: She's Vulcan and that could help, but the woman the _Enterprise_
found never recovered psychologically. She killed herself before they
made much progress.
They stand silently for a moment.
Palmer: Isn't it worth a try anyway? Would you rather be a Borg or dead?
Jen-L: There's a further complication. They've begun to inject Lucky
Charm coding into her genes. You can already see the skin toughening
and the primitive mandibles. If we don't hurry...
hj: Do it, Doctor. If you need help, we'll take her to Starbase once
we get the engines repaired. (pause) And Palmer, give me 50 push-ups.
Palmer (whining): What? What did I do?
hj: Nothing. I just like the view.
* * * * *
Inside the Borg vessel. Missy is strapped onto the black bench by two
Borg soldiers, who have also begun to grow mandibles and tougher skin.
They shock her with a low electrical charge and she awakens, at first
opening her eyes slowly and peacefully. Then, seeing Lecter, she nearly
jumps out of her skin. He hovers closely over, his mandibles clacking
back and forth in front of her face, his electric can opener whizzing
on his forehead, all in some perverse curiosity.
Lecter: Melissa. What a lovely name. It just rolls right off the tongue...
rather like the human liver.
Missy: What do you want with me?
Lecter: It's interesting, isn't it?
Missy: What is?
Lecter: Can't you hear it, Missy?
Missy: Hear what?
Lecter stands back for a moment, then leans closely over her face. She
cringes backwards as much as she can, repelled both by the sight of this
foul creature and his personality. His can opener begins to whirr above
his right eye and his laser reflects off one of the thumbprint cookies in
her hair and across the room.
Lecter: Exactly. Listen to the silence, Missy. You're all alone now.
Listen to the silence of the Croutons.
Missy: I repeat, WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?
Lecter smiles, stands up fully, and looks to one of the Borg, who steps
forward with a large needle.
Lecter: Just sit back and relax...
[ To the tune of "The Flintstones", but singing it as Anthony
Hopkins would imitate Frank Sinatra singing it.]
Lecter: Croutons, meet the Croutons.
They're a primitive peaceful species...
The Borg inserts the needle into the side of Missy's head and she
screams in agony.
From the...Federation...
They don't value enough their Missy's...
Another Borg moves a skullcap into place, connecting with the hole that
was just placed in her skull.
Let's ride with the Croutons through the Fleet
Do you...think that there'll be enough to eat?
The first Borg begins to wire electronics and a large armor plate into her
chest as the other Borg adds attachments to the headpiece.
Missy was a Crouton.
Now she's had all of her implants!
They continue to add parts.
She'll do a new dance!
We'll all kill, eat and rhyme!!!
Missy slowly sits up and presents her right arm, over which the Borg add
a mechanical arm attachment. Missy turns her head to face Lecter, who
nods in approval. She then stands, walks to the end of the bench, and
turns to face the camera. Her armor is covered in red LEDs, pocket laser
finders, and a few GE soft-white bulbs. She shines the 50 mW argon laser
toward the camera, her face a pale-white. All through this, the "Flinstones"
theme has continued in the background.
Lecter/Missy: We'll all kill, eat and rhyyyyme!!!!!
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
This week in the _Enquirer_:
Patrick Stewart in messy divorce over spacey fling!
Ted Kennedy in trouble again!
The latest child actor arrests!
and
Jeanne Dixon predicts next season's cast changes for Star Trek: The Crouton
Generation and the Today Show!!!
Enquiring minds want to know!
Dan Quayle: I want to know.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Crouton: "Captain's Log, Stardate 103001.0:
We are arriving at Starbase LMC1 after a long and arduous journey.
Commander Crossfire continues in his attempt to resign. I have been forced
to take extraordinary measures to keep him on board."
Crouton enters the security area. Crossfire lies on a cot on his back,
ignoring his surroundings. Jez wanders back and forth along the outside
of the security force field, trying to get Crossfire's attention.
Crouton: Commander, we have arrived at Starbase LMC1.
Crossfire: So what?
Crouton: I want you to accompany me to Admiral Avenger's office, so that
we can...talk about this.
Crossfire: In the words of our friends the Borg, "Discussion is irrelevant."
Crouton: You're making this hard on all of us. (pause) We need you.
(pause) *I* need you.
Jez: Mrow! [Yeah!]
Crouton: Jez, stay out of this.
Jez lowers his tail and walks to the corner to sulk.
Crossfire: You have no right to imprison me like this. I did nothing
wrong and as a civilian, you have no reasonable authority over me.
Crouton: Yes, and I could be court-martialed for it. I must have had a
good reason to put my career on the line like that, yes?
Crossfire stands up and walks right up to the edge of the force field.
Crossfire: All right. You want to talk? You do it here. Either that
or YOU LET ME GO.
Chris ponders this for a moment, closes his eyes, sighs deeply, then
slouches a little more than usual.
Crouton: All right. Have it your way. (pause) Come on, Jez.
Crouton walks out of the room in silence. Jez follows slowly, sulking,
looking back at Crossfire sadly over his shoulder.
* * * * *
_USS Subaru_ sickbay. Jen-L, some of her staff, and Ensign Yi are assembled.
Jen-L: Neurological activity is increasing slightly. The Lucky Charm
genes are flushing well from the system. You can hardly see the mandibles
any more. (pause) What are you doing?
Yi: I *think* I just severed the last connection to the headpiece. Should
we try to remove it?
Jen-L (running a final scan): Hmm, I don't see why not. But these readings
don't seem quite right. I mean, I'm not a specialist in Vulcan medicine,
but these readings look atypical.
Jen-L puts away her little gadgets and helps Yi slide the skullcap out of
and off of Prolixator's head, though we can't get a clear look at her face
or head in the process. We then do close-ups of Jen-L and Yi.
Jen-L: Oh my... Well, that certainly explains it.
Yi: She's a...she's a...
Jen-L (taps communicator): Captain half japanese, this is Dr. Jen-L.
We're making progress with our patient. She's still alive, by the way.
hj (ic): Good. Anything else to report?
Jen-L: Yes. She's not just a Vulcan.
We pull from the close-up of Jen-L to a close-up on Prolixator. While
her ears and eyebrows are pointed, her forehead has a bumpy quality that
is mostly *not* a result of Borg experimentation.
Jen-L: She's also part Klingon.
FADE TO BLACK
"TO BE CONTINUED"
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Next time, on an all-new episode of
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
"The Silence of the Croutons"
Part 3: "The Ultimate Light Bulb"
Dr. Jen-L and Admiral T'Lilith try to solve the puzzle of Prolixator.
T'Lilith: (gasp) T'Kreila!
But will the Borg get her back?
Prolixator: Resistance...(grabs T'Lilith's wrist)...is futile.
Admiral Avenger tries to gain Crossfire's assistance.
Crossfire: That's not *my* problem.
Announcer: And Missy and the Lucky Borg begin their frontal assault on the LMC.
Missy (to Muirden): Flirting is futile. You will lower your shields and
prepare for your immediate and unconditional consumption.
Croutons in the dark on Star Trek: The Crouton Generation!
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