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The Crouton Generation Archives

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Star Trek:  The Crouton Generation
Season 4, pack #12
==================================

Date: Tue, 23 Jul 91 12:02:01 EDT
From: Knight of the Woeful Countenance 
Subject: ST:TCG upcoming episode (TEASER)

This afternoon, on an all new, exciting episode of

          STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION

The Subaru does some exploration of those strange new world we've
always told you about but never showed you!

      Palmer: Something wrong, captain?
      hj: Just bored.

But something goes horribly wrong:

      Heian: Warning: Hull temperature now 3000 degrees.  Internal
           temperature approaching forty-five degrees.

Can the Subaru survive?  Will the sushi still be raw?  Tune in tonight
on JUNK-TV as the croutons fight to survive.

      Kessner's console explodes in a shower of sparks and flames.  He
      screams.  Close up: he is not breathing.

-------------------------------------

Date: TUE 23 JUL 1991  16:00:44 EDT
From: Knight of the Woeful Countenance 
Subject: ST:TCG "Meltdown" (LONG)

half japanese: Captain's log, stardate 103079.2: things have been going
     slowly in our exploration of the Large Magellanic Cloud.  We are
     currently mapping the Chex Alpha Doulos System, our fifth since we
     left the Sigma Chi system.

[Palmer shudders at the horrible memory of being tossed in a blanket for
two hours.]

hj: What's wrong, Palmer?

Palmer: Er, nothing, captain.  Just a sudden chill.

hj: Well if you're cold, you could always wear a sweater.  Go get one.

Palmer: But I--

hj: Do it.

[Palmer leaves and comes back wearing a sweater over his uniform, as per
hj's instructions.]

hj: Palmer, you're out of uniform.

Palmer: What?

hj: You're wearing a sweater.  Give me sixty sit-ups.

Palmer: But--but you said--

hj: I said to get a sweater, not to wear one.  Do you think I'd order my
     own crew to break regulations?  Now give me sixty.

[Palmer groans, drops to the floor and begins to do push-ups.]

hj: Palmer!  I said sixty sit-ups.  You disobeyed a direct order.  Make
     it a hundred.

[Palmer groans, turns over and begins to do the sit-ups.  hj watches in
satisfaction, then turns to Kessner.]

hj: Kessner, what do our sensors reveal about the system?

Kessner: Six planets, none of which are class M.  The two planets
     furthest out are gas giants, composed mostly of hydrogen and other
     light gases.  The other four planets are smaller, they contain more
     of the heavier metals.  (pause) The first planet consists almost
     entirely of iron . . . essentially a rock in space.  That's
     strange.  It has no discernable magnetic field.

Practor: Fascinating.

hj: How about the sun?

Kessner: It's a bit hot for its size; it could be fairly young.  High
     levels of radiation.

hj: Any danger to the ship?

Kessner: None that I can see, unless we were to get extremely close.
     (pause) It's interfering with communications, though.  Not sure
     why.

hj: Fine.  Practor, take us closer to the sixth planet so we can begin
     mapping.

[hj sits down and sighs.]

Palmer: Something wrong, captain?

hj: Just bored.  I love being a starship captain, but sometimes it just
     gets boring when we only map.  It gets a little routine sometimes,
     that's all.  I wish we could see more of the wonders of space, like
     the Rama Clarke system: a trinary star system that hosts a
     planetful of humanoid life.  The thrill of the unknown.

Palmer: Space is full of unknowns, captain.  We can't afford to get too
        relaxed about it.  Just when we get comfortable, things can
        heat up very quickly.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Star Trek: The Crouton Generation
"Meltdown"
     By Dave Learn

Starring:
     half japanese
     Jim Palmer
     Eric Kessner
     Practor
     Missy Midzor
     Dave Quixote
     Sancho Panza (the man)
     Jen-L

Incidental Music by: Steve Taylor and Some Band
Casting by: Purina Dog Chow
Directed by: Nicholas Meyer
Edited by: Kerri Russell
Makeup by: Laura O'Malley
Special Effects by: Suzanne Westfall
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

[The bridge of the Subaru.  The viewscreen shows a gas giant roughly
twice the size of Jupiter.  There is a huge storm in the planet's
surface, similar to the great red eye, but perhaps three times as
large.]

hj: Nice weather.

Palmer: I'll say.  Not exactly the kind of weather for a picnic, is it?

Kessner: Not unless you brought an umbrella.

[Everyone turns and looks at Kessner.]

Kessner: A joke.

[Everyone keeps looking at him.]

hj: Twenty sit-ups and your report.

Kessner: Winds of 7000 kilometers per hour.  It's an electric storm;
     some bolts of lightning reach 600 terrawatts.  That's enough to
     seriously fry this ship.

Palmer: There are other storms like this, captain, but none on nearly
     as great a magnitude.  This one could die down in the next few
     hundred thousand years.  Or it might not.

hj: How far down does the storm go?

Kessner: It's dificult to say.  The EM radiation plays havok with our
     sensors, even at this range.  My best guess is that it goes 500,000
     kilometers deep.

[A flash of lightning hits the Subaru.  The control panels go crazy.]

Kessner: Shields failing.  (alarmed)  We're losing altitude, too.

hj: Practor!  Get us out of here, full impulse.

Practor: Trying, captain.

[Another flash of lightning reaches out and strikes the ship.]

Missy: (ic) Captain!  What are you doing up there?  You're burning out
     the ship's generators.

Kessner: The ship is acting like a magnet . . . we're attracting the
     lightning.

Palmer: What's that smell?

hj: The controls are overloading, they're starting to burn.  Practor!

Practor: I am doing my best, captain.  The controls are unresponsive.

hj: Missy, we need more power to the helm, or we're going to go in.

Missy: (ic) I'll give you everything I can, captain, for all the good it
     will do.

[Another flash of lightning reaches out and hits the ship.  On the
bridge, Kessner screams as his console explodes in a shower of sparks
and flame.  Other stations are beginning to smoke and spray sparks
everywhere.  Palmer runs over to Kessner and puts his ear to Kessner's
chest.  There is no heartbeat.  Palmer positions his hands on Kessner's
chest and begins to push, hoping to start a heartbeat.]

hj: Practor, get us out of here NOW!

Practor: (jaw set) I am doing my best, captain.

hj: (sarcastic, impatient) Yes, I know.  The controls are unresponsive.

[The Subaru spins and heaves and finally breaks free of the pull of the
planet's gravity and the storm's electromagnetic field with a lurch.
There is a loud noise as Practor's console erupts in a shower of sparks
and flames.]

Heian:  Flames
        Leaping everywhere
        Burning my body.

hj: What kind of haiku is that?

Heian: Automatic sprinkler system activating.  Shutting down all damaged
     equipment.

[The sprinklers activate and it begins to rain on the bridge.  Soon the
flames ebb down and die out.]

hj: Practor, are you all right?

Practor: My chest hurts a bit, but I am quite functional.  I received a
     painful shock from the unit, but it is nothing serious.

hj: Go down to sickbay.  Let Jen-L have a look at you.

Practor: I am fine, I assure you.

hj: I said go down to sickbay and let Jen-L treat you.  That's an order
     Don't worry--I won't tell any of the other Romulans you had to go
     to sickbay.

Practor: (ruefully) Thank you.

[As Practor heads to the sickbay, hj turns and sees Palmer kneeling over
the fallen Kessner.]

hj: Oh no.  Is he . . . ?

Palmer: He's hurt, but he's breathing now.

hj: Jen-L, medical emergency on the bridge.

Jen-L: (ic) There are medical emergencies all over the ship, captain.
     How bad is it?

hj: Kessner was nearly electrocuted.  It's bad.

Jen-L: (ic) We'll have a team there right away.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
COMMERCIAL BREAK

The Enterprise began its five-year mission twenty-five years ago.

     Mitchell: Pray to me, Kirk.  Pray that I give you a quick death.

It has taken us through love . . .

     Kirk: (sadly) No beach to walk on.
     Rand: Sir?

Adventure . . .

     Khan: Ah, Kirk, I wonder if you have ever heard the Klingon proverb
          that says revenge is a dish best served cold.  It is very cold
          in space.

Good Times . . .

     Spock: The regent's name is Leonard James Akhar?
     McCoy: Yes, I think it's a rather lovely name, don't you agree,
          James?
     Kirk: Oh absolutely, Leonard.  What do you think, Spock?
     Spock: I think you will be insufferably pleased with yourself for
          at least a month.  Sir.

And bad . . .

     Spock: I do not believe you are aware of the gravity of your
          situation, Captain.

Join her now for one final adventure.

     Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country

     Coming this December to a theater near you.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

[In sickbay, Jen-L is treating a number of crewmembers for electric
shock and burns.  A medical team comes in with the badly burned Kessner
while a doctor looks at Practor.]

Doctor: Well, it's nothing serious, ensign.  But I would recommend
     staying off duty for at least twenty-four hours.  You received some
     damage to your cardial tissue, and it wouldn't be a good idea to
     push yourself.

Practor: What you say is most illogical, doctor.  If I am needed on the
     bridge, that is where I should be.

Doctor: If you try doing too much, you could die.  Your heart tissue is
     seriously weakened, especially for a Romulan.  You should stay off
     the bridge for twenty-four hours and give it time to heal a little.
     Even after that, you should take it easy for a while.

Practor: Very well.  If that is what the captain wishes.

[hj enters to see how her crew are doing.  Jen-L is working hard on
Kessner, hooking him up to the monitors and various life support
systems.]

Doctor: Speak of the Devil and she shows her horns.

hj: I heard that.  Give me fifty sit-ups once you've finished here.

[Practor arches her eyebrows.  Once Jen-L finished with Kessner, hj
walks over to talk to her.]

hj: What's his condition?

Jen-L: It's not good.  He has severe damage to his heart, as well as
     third degree burns on a third of his body, and second degree
     burns on about half of it.  When he comes around, he may face
     some motor damage and memory loss.

hj: Oh no.

Jen-L: It could have been worse.  If one of you hadn't given him CPR,
     he would have died.

hj: How about the others?

Jen-L: It varies.  A lot of people have minor burns and headaches.  The
     worst injuries are from people who were working directly at
     terminals at the time the lightning hit us.  Three of Missy's
     engineering staff died.

[As Jen-L mentions Missy's name, the lights fail.  hj touches her
communicator.]

hj: Missy, this is hardly a time to let the freaking lights go out.

Missy: (ic) Captain, you'd better get down here.  We have a problem.

[Down in engineering.]

Quixote: The fiends!  They have laid seige to the Queen's castle, and
     will not fight by the rules of chivalry.  Instead they use their
     vile magicks to attack us from afar.  Cowards!  Dishonorable,
     twisted wretches.  Fie on your--

Missy: Dave, will you get back to fixing the crouton tubes in case we
     need them?

hj: (arriving) Is he the only problem?  Really, Missy, you shouldn't
     be so rough on him.  He's not such a bad guy.  He's just a little
     odd.

Missy: Captain, this is serious.  Come here.

[Missy takes hj to the dilithium crystal chamber.  The inside is a mess.
The casing for the regulator has blown apart, the entire compartment is
filled with smoke which glitters eerily in the half-light of the damaged
engineering.]

hj: That's not good.

Missy: "Good" it certainly is not.  That power surge overloaded the
     regulator, blew it to pieces.  The unit automatically dumped our
     anti-matter, but it will be five days before we can go in there,
     and maybe another eight or nine before we can fix the thing.

hj: Uh huh.

Missy: That's not all.  Our impulse engines are shot.  We're drifting
     on inertia alone.

hj: Can you fix them?

Missy: I already looked into that.  I looked at the circuitry that we
     use to control the engines.  A lot of it was burned out, but some
     of it was beyond repair.  It was melted.  Without those melted
     circuits, we haven't a prayer of restarting the engines.  Not
     without killing everyone in engineering.

hj: How soon till you can replace it?

Missy: Once we can repair the replicator, in no time.  But the
     replicator is a mess, too.  I'd say about fifteen hours to fix it,
     and thirty until it can produce something like the necessary
     circuits.

hj: You'd better get to work, then.

Missy: Captain, I'm afraid we don't have thirty hours.

hj: Why not?

Missy: Right now we're headed to the center of the system at half the
     speed of light.  In fifteen hours, the sun is going to start pul-
     ling us in faster.  We're headed toward a fusion reaction with no
     shields to keep out the heat.  In less than a day, this ship will
     become a flying oven, and there is no way for us to stop it.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
COMMERCIAL BREAK

[Hand with egg.]

     OK.  One last time.  This is your brain.

[Frying pan.]

     This is drugs.

[Hand breaks egg, drops it in frying pan.]

     This is your brain on drugs.

[Fried egg, toast, and bacon on a plate.]

     This is your brain on drugs with toast and three pieces of
     bacon.

     And remember: breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

[Main engineering, USS Subaru.  Those present include hj, Palmer, Missy,
and Jen-L.  Missy has just finished her explanation of the situation as
explained to hj earlier as she works on repairing the replicator
circuitry.]

hj: Any suggestions?

Jen-L: How about communications?  Couldn't one of the other ships in
     the local group come to our rescue?

Palmer:  There's nothing we can do about communications with that star
     out there.  Something about it interferes with No-Doz
     communications.

hj: Would it be possible to redirect the ship?

Missy: How?

hj: I don't know.  Maybe if we ejected a steady stream of gas out one
     side, it would push us the other way, away from the sun?

Missy: Well, the principle is sound, but . . . no.  We don't have nearly
     enough gas we could use to do the trick.  The ship's mass is so
     great it would have to be one heck of a stream before we could do
     anything.

Palmer: I have a thought.  How long until Dave has the crouton torpedoes
     in working order?

Missy: Maybe ten hours from now if he keeps at it the way he's been
     going.

Palmer: The old-style photon torpedoes could sometimes trigger novas if
     they hit a star.  If our shields are working, too, could we trigger
     a nova in this star?  The shock might blow us free from danger.

Jen-L: That's crazy.

hj: What about the Prime Directive?

Palmer: None of these planets have any life.  We won't violate the
     Prime Directive by wiping out this star.  How about it, Missy?

Missy: Well, it would cause a nova, that's certain.  But even with the
     shields, the explosion could destroy us, too.  And it certainly
     wouldn't make the Subaru any more comfortable.  A nova would make
     this whole system a lot hotter.

Palmer: I know it's a long shot, but I figured I'd ask.

Missy: No harm done.

hj: Any other ideas, anyone?

[No one says anything.]

hj: Oh boy.  Well, we'd better start thinking of some.  If what Missy
     says is true, things are going to heat up very quickly.  Look into
     any idea, no matter how remote.  Palmer, see if you can do
     something about the communications.  Missy, get life support fixed
     and see what you can do about jury-rigging something for the
     engines.  Jen-L, you might want to prepare sickbay to treat cases
     of dehydration.  And I . . . I'll try to fix what's left of
     Practor's station.  Dismissed.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
IT'S CHRISTMAS IN JULY!!!

That's right, why wait until December like normal people to do your
Christmas shopping?  We already have our Christmas specials going full
swing!

Stop by our down town outlets and get

* Great prices!

* Friendly service!

* Your hubcaps stolen!

* College food at our brand-new cafe!

It's Christmas in July.  Don't sweat about the Christmas shopping
later.  Get it now while you're sweating in the heat wave!

This message brought to you by Speagle Water Cruisers.  When you say
"Speagle," you mean "quality."  When you say "water cruiser," you mean
"boat."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

hj: Captain's log, supplemental.  We have headed to the heart of the
     Chex Alpha Doulos for ten hours so far.  On-board temperatures have
     already risen to thirty-five degrees.  Life support is working, but
     it is having minimal success in bringing the heat down.

[hj stops to wipe the sweat off her brow.  Palmer pulls himself out from
under the communications console.  He is covered in sweat. hj squats
down near him.]

Palmer: It's like an oven in there.

hj: Don't you think I know that?  (pause) How's it going?

Palmer: I've made a little progress, but not enough.

hj: What have you done?

Palmer: I've isolated the cause of the interference.  This sun emits
     high levels of niquil radiation, which causes serious distortion of
     No-Doz space.

hj: (angry) You've been at this for ten hours, and that's all you've
     done?  Found out what causes the interference?

Palmer: Well excuse me, captain.  Maybe you'd like to spend ten hours
     looking into this oven?  It's not exactly comfortable you know.

hj: Look here, Palmer, we only have five, six, maybe seven hours left.
     The communications console is our only hope.  I just hope you
     haven't blown it with your ineptitude.

Palmer: Listen here, captain.  Or should I say, "your majesty?"  You seem
     to like having someone around who treats you like a queen.  As if
     you deserve it.

hj: That does it!  Give me eighty sit-ups for insubordination.

Palmer: Oh go stuff yourself, will you?  I've had enough of you and your
     stupid push-ups.

hj: I said *sit-ups*.  What are you, deaf?  Or just stupid?

Palmer: Buzz off!

[The two glare at each other, smoldering with rage.  After an agonized
moment, Practor, who entered the bridge unnoticed, speaks.]

Practor: Captain?  Commander?  Is everything all right?

hj: Mind your own business, Practor.  Keep your green-blooded nose out
     of this.

[Practor levels her eyes at hj and glowers threateningly.]

hj: um, sorry, ensign.  I apologize.  The heat.  It's getting to me,
     you know?

Practor: (coolly) Indeed.

Palmer: (quietly) Sorry, captain.  I shouldn't have blown up at you.

hj: (nods) I understand.  I apologize, too.

[The trio settle into an uneasy silence.  Elsewhere on the Subaru . . .]

LaGrange: Take it back, you miserable little animal.

Butler: I'd rather die than take back anything I said.  You're a lousy,
     shiftless idiot.  I don't know how in the galaxies you got the
     rank of lieutenant commander.  What did you do?  Who did you
     sleep with?

LaGrange: Why, you--

[LaGrange swings at Butler, hitting him in the face.  Butler curses and
punches LaGrange hard in the gut.  The two of them go on fighting.  Two
crewmen try to stop it, and end up being drawn into the fight.  The
brawl gets worse and soon eight or ten people are dragged into it.  At
last security chief Panza arrives with a team of ten security officers.]

Panza: Hold it!  (pause, the fighting continues) I said stop the
     fighting.

Ramcheese: Oh good, chief, that'll hold them.

Panza: Buzz off, Ramcheese.  Guards, set phasers on stun.  Fire.

[The guards fire.  Six of the fighters go down, others are weakened,
but a couple are just annoyed.  LaGrange hits Panza in the face.]

Panza: Why you . . .

[Panza proceeds to teach LaGrange a lesson, and shoves him against the
wall.  When the two of them finish, LaGrange is sorely hurt and
bleeding from several places.]

Ramcheese: Chief, easy!  Don't kill him.

Panza: Mind your own business, OK, Ramcheese?  Just butt out.

Corba: You all right, chief?

Panza: No.  I got hurt.

Corba: He didn't hit you that much.

Panza: No, but I hit him a lot, and as the proverb goes, "Whether the
     stone hits the pitcher, or the pitcher hits the stone, it's going
     to be bad for the pitcher."

Corba: You know, I really don't like the way you keep quoting those
     stupid proverbs.

Panza: Bite me.

[Meanwhile, down in engineering.  Missy wipes her sweaty brow as she
gets up from the damaged replicator.  She glances at the thermometer:
40 degrees.  At last she looks over at the crouton tubes where Dave
Quixote is working--in a standard uniform with his baseball cap.]

Missy: (pleased) Dave,  where's your armor?

Dave: I apologize, milady.  I know that as a knight I am to wear my
     armor at all times, but I find that I am much cooler without it,
     now, the sun beats so heavily upon us.  No doubt you will think
     me unable to defend you from marauders, but the historians of
     the great Lanzarote, who served Britain's King Arthur who now lies
     in sleep at Avallon, whereever that may be, once slew three bandits
     when he was naked and armed only with a branch.  So fear not, fair
     lady, for I am a greater knight even than Don Lanzarote, and I can
     protect you from any villainy that might threaten to--

Missy: (angrily) Dave, I am going to give you to the count of ten to
     be quiet.

Quixote: Milady?

Missy: One!

Quixote: Are you angry with me?

Missy: Two!

Quixote: I am most confused by your reaction . . .

Missy: THREE!

[Quixote lapses into silence as he tries to figure out why Missy is
upset with him.  Could he have touched her ribs which that foul knight,
the Knight of the Failing Lights broke?  No, he had not touched her...
Missy, seeing that Quixote has grown silent, ends her mounting count
and now speaks to him in even, measured tones.]

Missy: Now, Dave, are the crouton tubes finished?

Quixote: Indeed they are, sweet lady.

Missy: Will you cut out that "lady" junk?  I am sick to death of your
     flowery speech about knights and ladies and all that crock.  This
     is the twenty-fifth century.  Get with the program, you idiot.

Quixote: Milady, you are not yourself.  Some fiend has ensorcled you,
     perhaps even my arch-enemy, the accursed Freston, in an attempt
     to injure me.

[Missy picks up a rather large piece of metal and seems about to attack
Quixote when her communicator sounds off.]

hj: (ic) Missy . . .

Missy: (loudly) What do you want?  I'm busy.

hj: (ic) Are the impulse engines fix--

Missy: (angrily) No, they are not fixed, and they aren't likely to get
     fixed, especially if I keep getting all these interruptions.  We're
     going to crash right into a ball of seething plasma and there's not
     one thing I can do about it.  Satisfied?

hj: (ic) Will you lower your voice?  I happen to be the captain.

Missy: Fine, and you're welcome to it.  Have a happy command, captain.
     I  hope you've enjoyed your time in the hotseat, because it's about
     to get a lot hotter.  Missy out.

[Missy grabs her communicator lapel and throws it against the wall,
breaking it into pieces.]

Missy: Heian!

Heian: (completely unaffected by the heat)
     Here I am,
     Ready to serve.
     It's a duty
     From which I never swerve.

Missy: Heian, if you ever give me any of that poetry trash again, I'll
     turn you into a Macintosh.  You hear me?

Heian: Loud and clear.  I wonder how I would look with a half-eaten
     apple on me?

Missy: (laughing) Okay . . . I'm sorry, Heian.  It's just getting so
     hot in here, and I can't get these things working fast enough.
     How much time do we have?

Heian: Current temperature is forty-five degrees and building rapidly.
     Roughly two hours before heat exhaustion is inescapable.

Missy: How likely am I to finish this repair in time to repair impulse
     engines?

Heian: Missy, I don't know how to break this to you . . .

Missy: I read you loud and clear.  You've been a great computer to have,
     Heian.  Just wish I could send a message back to Euge and the rest
     of the Chivalier to say goodbye.  (pause) Patch me through to the
     captain.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
COMMERCIAL BREAK

Bored?  Down in the dumps?  Need something to do?  Out of roast beef
and turkey sausage?  Need a good salad?

Then tune into

      Star Trek: The Crouton Generation

Yes, that's right, Star Trek: The Crouton Generation!  It's chock full
of exciting episodes each week on all sorts of different starships,
including:

* The Croutonprize!

* The Heisenberg!

* The Melbourne!

and of course,

* The Subaru!

Don't miss out on a single exciting episode of this exciting TV show,
brought to you by "Mad Bob the Avenger" Productions in conjunction
with--

[A pink rabbit with pointed ears and a forehead with ridges appears,
beating a drum that says "Energizer," on the scene from the Subaru.]

Still going after all these years!  Nothing lasts longer than the--

[hj fires her phaser.  The Energizer Bunny blows up.]

hj: I think we've killed that joke, already, don't you?

Palmer: I agree completely.

Practor: Humor is so illogical.

Missy: (ic) So like I was saying, captain, there's just no way in the
     galaxies that we can do it.  I'm sorry.

hj: Understood.  It's been a pleasure having you as chief engineer,
     Missy.  Captain out.  (pause) I feel so . . . drained.

Palmer: Yeah.  (yawn) This heat really wears you out.  With any luck,
     we can die painlessly, in our sleep.

[Practor is leaning on her relatively intact console, her hands clasped,
and her eyebrows knit in deep concentration.]

Practor: Elements, how could we be so blind?

hj: Practor?

Practor: The fire cannot have us today, for the earth will preserve us.

Palmer: What are you talking about?

Practor: Earth, commander, and fire.  The one smothers the other.

Palmer: So?

Practor: We are fast nearing a planet even now which can smother the
     flames of the star.

hj: How?  What do you mean?

Practor: Lieutenant Kessner described Chex Alpha Doulos One as made of
     iron.

Palmer: That's right.  Almost completely of iron.

Practor: Magnets are made of iron, commander.  This ship will be
     attracted to a magnet, just as the lightning was attracted to us.

hj: Nice idea, Practor, but no dice.  Kessner said that planet had no
     magnetic field.

Practor: Then why not give it one?

Palmer: How?

Practor: Croutons produce a residual magnetic charge.  Lieutenant
     Quixote could prepare two crouton torpedo to detonate over the
     planet's designated poles, and generate a limited magnetic field.

hj: I get it!  And then the iron in the planet will also polarize and
     the planet will be able to hold us away from the sun.

Palmer: And if we hide in the planet's shadow . . .

Practor: We will be saved from the merciless Fire.

hj: Missy!

Missy: (ic) What is it, captain?

hj: We . . . Practor has an idea.  It's a long shot, but it's all we
     have.  Here it is . . .

[Exterior: Subaru.  Two crouton torpedoes launch from the ship and fly
toward the planet.  Several hundred miles above each of the poles-to-be,
the crouton torpedoes detonate, showering the poles with highly charged
croutons.  Back on the bridge of the Subaru.]

Palmer: Magnetic field building steadily.  Practor, I think your idea
     did it.  It's working.  Captain, we have a magnetic field.

Heian: Warning: Hull temperature now 3000 degrees.  Internal temperature
     approaching fifty degrees.

hj: Practor, how long until we're behind that planet?

Practor: Three minutes, captain.  Its gravity and magnetic field should
     hold us safely in place where it is cool.

Jen-L: (ic) Captain, I have good news.  Lieutenant Kessner's fever has
     broken.  He's come out of his coma.

Kessner: (ic) Hey, come on, captain, this isn't any fair.  The doc's got
     me cooped up down here in sickbay while you are having all the fun.
     Tell her to let me out of here.

hj: Jen-L, you have my permission to use tranquilizers if necessary.

[Much later.]

hj: Captain's log, stardate 103084.6.  Commander Palmer's call for help
     on our old-style communications system reached Captain Muirden of
     the USS Melbourne.  The Melbourne is now taking the Subaru in tow
     back to starbase LMC1 where we will receive shore leave as the
     Subaru is repaired and refitted.  Note special commendation for
     Ensign Practor, whose cool thinking saved all our lives, and also
     for Commander Palmer, whose idea to call for help on pre-No-Doz
     communications brought us the help we so desparately needed.  Close
     log.  (pause, then sweetly) Jim?  Oh, Jim?

Palmer: Yes captain?

hj: (darkly) You still owe me eighty sit-ups.  Now are you going to do
     them, or do I have to mention that you backtalked me in my log?

[Palmer drops to the floor, lies down and sits up.]

Palmer: One . . .

hj: Uh-uh.  You have to touch your toes when you do it, or it doesn't
     count.


AND THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES . . .

						

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