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==================================
Star Trek: The Crouton Generation
Season 4, Pack 2
==================================
Date: Wed, 5 Jun 91 01:07:11 -0600
From: zecca@tramp (Emulator of Borg)
Subject: ST:TCG4 (**LONG**)
The _USS Chivalier_ and _USS Subaru_ fly in formation at sublight speeds.
Inside Croutonizer 3 on the _Chivalier_:
Abdul: They're transporting now, Admiral.
T'Lilith: Thank you, Lieutenant.
Captain hj, Dr. Jen-L, and Ensign Yi appear with a sedated Prolixator
stretched out on a stretcher.
hj: Thank you for coming all the way out here, Admiral. We intended
to bring her to the Starbase.
T'Lilith moves forward to examine Prolixator more closely.
T'Lilith: It's all right. I wanted Counselor Tracy's help on the
psychological reorientatio-- (gasp) T'Kreila.
Jen-L: You know her, Admiral?
T'Lilith (somewhat angrily): How many of us do you think there *are* in
the Universe?
hj: You mean, people of mixed Vulcan and Klingon heritage?
T'Lilith: Yes!
Jen-L: Not many. Obviously more than one...
T'Lilith: Yes, well... I haven't seen my sister for several years.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
"The Silence of the Croutons"
Part 3: "The Ultimate Light Bulb"
Written by Admiral Avenger
(With a tip o' the keyboard to Thomas Harris)
Guest Stars
Mart McChesney as Lucky Lecter
Lalla Ward as T'Kreila
Kathleen Turner as Casanova
James Carrey as Janson
Special Guest Stars
Anthony Hopkins as the voice of Lucky Lecter
Special Appearance by
Fred "Mister" Rogers
Directed by Melissa "I fixed the damn lights!" Midzor
Incidental Music by Danny Elfman
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Gretzky leads a large (read: 20) security detachment from the _Croutonprize_,
surrounding Crossfire as they lead him through the dock into Starbase.
Crossfire himself is unconscious, strapped to a stretcher. They are met
by a similarly-sized detachment from the Starbase.
As the 40 of them begin to march toward the Security Section, Gretzky leads
them in whistling the theme Alec Guiness, et al whistled in "The Bridge on
the River Kwai".
Crouton: I really, *really* didn't want to have to do this.
Avenger: I know, Chris. Neither did I.
Crouton: I've put my career on the line for him. I hope he realizes that.
Avenger: I'll make him...(queasy)...somehow.
* * * * *
Chow: "Captain's Log, Stardate 103003.3:
Despite the Admiral's wishes, the news of Admiral T'Lilith's sister
has spread through the ship like wildfire. I guess you can't keep good
gossip down. Counselor Tracy and the Admiral have been working hard to
bring Prolixa--I mean T'Kreila--back to something resembling consciousness.
At last report, they had had no luck.
Meanwhile, the _Subaru_ has departed to hunt down their missing engineer.
The Universe would be a darker place with Missy Midzor on their side...and
I can only hope that hj finds her soon."
In the brig, Lt. Janson and a pair of security ensigns stand off to one
side, while Counselor Tracy and T'Lilith sit with T'Kreila behind the
energy field. T'Kreila lies motionless on the bed, staring straight up,
but at least her Klingon/Vulcanoid features are now fully visible and
healing from their long containment. Nearly all signs of her Lucky Charm
contamination are gone, with what look like cold sores in the corners of
her mouth being the only sign of the mandibles she was growing.
Tracy: Okay, how about this? (stands up and starts juggling one bag)
All right, that's one. (Adds another) There's two. (Starts juggling
two with one hand and lifting the other up and down.) That's three.
He smiles, trying to get T'Kreila to respond somehow. T'Kreila doesn't
respond. Tracy accidentally drops one bag, which falls on T'Kreila's
stomach. She doesn't even respond.
T'Lilith: Let me try again.
Tracy: Are you sure you couldn't use a break? Or a nap or something?
This must really be tiring you out.
T'Lilith (sternly): A Klingon does not rest when her sister is in need!
(pause) And besides, I'm an insomniac anyway.
Tracy: Oh yeah. I forgot.
T'Lilith places her hand against T'Kreila's temples and closes her eyes.
We cut to:
The inside of T'Kreila's mind, which is looking much like a Borg vessel at
the moment. T'Lilith steps into view in a Vulcan meditation robe adorned
with a few Klingon additions.
T'Lilith: T'Kreila!! T'Kreila!! Where are you???
Prolixator steps into view. She turns her head slowly and stares T'Lilith
down. Her laser pierces the smoky darkness, placing a beam between ridges
on T'Lilith's forehead.
Prolixator: T'Kreila is irrelevant. Only the Borg matter.
T'Lilith: The Borg can't hurt you any more. Please let me help you.
Prolixator (almost looking angry): You are irrelevant, T'Lilith. Your
help is not necessary. Return me to the Borg.
T'Lilith: No.
Prolixator: Resistance...(grabs T'Lilith's wrist, painfully)...is futile.
There is a hint of both anger and enjoyment on Prolixator's face now.
T'Lilith (gritting her teeth): Then what about the Lucky Charms? Do you
want to become one of *them*? Do you think they are really going to
help the Borg...or you?
Prolixator: We...I... (stiffening up) ...am irrelevant. The Borg will
continue. When the Lucky Charms outlive their usefulness, we will
assimilate the useful components and destroy the rest.
Prolixator's indecision has affected her hold on T'Lilith. She breaks the
wrist hold and grabs Prolixator's own wrist. They struggle and T'Lilith
comes up with the mechanical end of Prolixator's arm.
T'Lilith: Come back to me, sister.
The image shifts suddenly back to that of the brig as T'Lilith's eyes snap
open with a force that nearly throws her backwards.
Tracy: Admiral, are you all right?
T'Lilith: That little bitch is fighting me. She threw me out of her mind!
Janson raises an eyebrow, not expecting this kind of language from a Vulcan,
especially not when talking about a blood relative.
Tracy: What can we do then?
T'Lilith: No, no, no. You don't understand. That's *good*. We've *always*
fought. It means I have made at least a little progress.
Tracy looks back at T'Kreila, who looks as impassive as before.
T'Lilith: Try the juggling thing again.
Tracy does. She still doesn't react, but when he gets up to five bags and
then suddenly drops one...T'Kreila's hand grabs it out of the air by reflex.
She remains expressionless.
Tracy: So she likes to play with my balls.
T'Lilith: It's a start.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
(Voice-over by Chris Platt)
Introducing a new generation of transportation comfort, with a ride
so smooth and quiet that with the special autopilot function, you can
sleep like a baby.
A small, stylish-looking personal shuttlecraft pops into camera view and
rockets off into the distance.
The Pontiac of Shuttlecraft...available now...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Larkin: "Captain's Log, Supplemental.
If it's one thing I hate worse than sitcoms, it's Lucky Charms. I
sure hope we don't run into those creeps out here."
Larkin sits in the Captain's chair, reading "Jez the Wonder Kitty: The
Unauthorized Biography," by Kitty Kelley. Lt. Drewid, annoyed at Captain
Muirden's insistence on flirting with everything female (except drewid)
since the departure of Kerry Hoke, begins to lead a song amongst the crew
at the back of the bridge.
[Base song from "The Sound of Music"]
drewid: Jez, a cat, a big black cat.
Fox: Matt, a common crewman name.
Rhee: Rhee, a name I call myself.
Eliana: Da, Russian affirmative.
drewid: Soraya, owner of Jez.
Eliana: Zen, a crispy computer.
Rhee: Tea, Earl Grey and piping hot!
Fox: And the captain is a--Uh oh!
Larkin (looking up from his book): Um, David. I think you're out of key.
Fox: No, really, Commander. There's a ship approaching fast.
Larkin closes his book and drops it into his chair. He taps a panel.
Larkin: Yellow alert. Captain to the bridge. (to Fox) Identity?
Fox: Cube-shaped...with Lucky Charm resonance traces.
Larkin: Lovely. Red Alert.
Casanova (in a sultry voice): Red Alert... Red Alert...
Larkin: We should have never stopped at Cygnet XIV for computer repairs...
The captain's office opens. Muirden steps out, a goofy grin on his face.
drewid (sarcastically): Just had another video message from Kerry, have we?
Muirden (ignoring her): What's the problem, mate?
Larkin merely points at the screen, where the Lucky Borg ship has already
pulled to a stop in front of them. Muirden tugs his uniform into place.
Quick cut to:
Mr. Rogers: Can you say "The Picard Maneuver"? Good. I knew that you could.
Quick cut back:
Savan: Engineering control to bridge. (panel lights up)
Muirden: Good idea, Rhee. I wouldn't want to lose you like hj lost--
Missy appears on the viewscreen. Not only is her skin a pale white and
covered in Borg armor (with lots of lights), but she has now begun to
grow rudimentary mandibles of her own, which click back and forth when
she speaks.
Missy: I am Missycutus of Borg. Humor is irrelevant. You will lower
your shields and allow us to consume you.
Muirden: I don't want to play hard to get here, Missy, but I don't think
that would be a good idea.
Missycutus: Flirting is futile. You will lower your shields and prepare
for your immediate and unconditional consumption.
Larkin: And if we don't?
Missycutus smiles and clacks her mandibles twice.
Missycutus (matter-of-factly): Then this.
The _Melbourne_ goes dark. Every light on the ship, from the main bridge
lights to the console lights to the light on Grunto's digital watch to the
little lights in the refrigerators in Ten Forward, goes dark. The only
light on the bridge comes from the image of Missy in front of them.
drewid: Oh, *CHARM*ing. The "Power of Midzor" has been enhanced.
Missycutus: Resistance is hopeless, Captain Flirt.
* * * * *
Just outside the brig outer doors, Euge and Daemon approach Janson.
Euge: How is it going, Janson?
Janson: They've restarted reflex responses, but that's about it.
Daemon: Why are you so glum?
Janson: She...I... (blushes)
Daemon: Janson, do you have a crush on T'Lilith's sister?
Janson: It's just that I...she... I don't see how anyone could do something
so terrible to such a lovely woman.
Daemon (aside to Euge): He sure does have peculiar tastes in women.
Euge (whispering): Don't knock it. So does Admiral Avenger.
Janson: And to think how alone she's been...and what the Borg and the Lucky
Charms must have done to her...
Euge: Are you all right?
Janson: You weren't on board yet when it happened. The Lucky Charm Invasion,
I mean.
Euge: We certainly heard a lot about it at the Academy. Classes were
cancelled for two weeks and we spent most of our time on survival drills
or watching live reports on FNN.
Janson: I lost my parents, my home, most of my childhood friends...everything
that I knew and loved... The Lucky Charms tore apart Mars the same way
they and the Borg have torn apart T'Kreila.
T'Lilith walks through the doors at this point.
T'Lilith: I would be honored to have a friend like you, Janson, but I'm
not so sure T'Kreila is capable.
Janson (shocked, embarrassed, a little angry): You heard--?
T'Lilith: T'Kreila isn't like any woman you know. It is tough growing up
with parents of mixed heritage. When one is Klingon, it is even tougher.
I took the Vulcan road, as per my mother's wishes, but T'Kreila...she was
all Klingon. She got into so much trouble as a girl...and dragged me into
a lot of it. I... (tapers off quietly, lost in thought)
Tracy (who quietly has joined the group): There's something else, isn't
there, Admiral? Something about T'Kreila...and you..
T'Lilith: Yes, but... (straightening up) ...I don't really feel like talking
about that.
Euge and Daemon see this as their cue to leave and quietly do so.
Tracy: Look, Admiral. You need some sleep before we continue. Janson
here will keep an eye on her, won't you?
Janson: Yes, sir. Anything I can do to help...
T'Lilith: Is appreciated. But PLEASE, Janson, don't get too attached to
her. If we ever *do* get her back, I wouldn't bet on her liking you.
FADE TO BLACK:
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
Justin Fields sits in front of the screen, playing some Nintendo game
or another. Euge walks in with a bag of potato chips.
Euge: Justin, here's a new potato chip you just have to try.
Justin grabs for the bag while shooting down space raiders. Euge pulls
it out of his reach.
Euge: Eh eh eh. (pause) First, we have to open the bag carefully, so
we can reseal it for freshness later. (Does) Then I try one chip and
see how it tastes. (Moves a chip near his mouth, about to bite into it)
Justin grabs the bag, rips it open, spilling chips all over himself, and
begins stuffing chips into his face. Suddenly, he turns green and spits
the chip fragments all over the camera.
Justin: Potato-head, what kind of potato chips are these?
Euge turns to the camera, smiling, showing us that he didn't bite into
his chip.
Euge: Why, new Sushi-flavored chips from Eagle, of course. You know how
hj loves 'em!
Justin chokes himself, making gagging noises, as we fade to black.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Starbase LMC1, interior of the maximum security brig. Lt. Cdr. Crossfire
lies on the bed, still out. Admiral Avenger enters the cell and the field
snaps on behind him. He motions for Crouton and the others to leave. He
sits quietly for a few minutes, then begins to absent-mindedly pull his hair.
Finally, the phaser stun wears off and Crossfire springs awake, battle-ready.
Avenger (throwing up his arms in defense): Hey, it's just me!
Crossfire pulls his punch so it barely doesn't hit, then sits up straight
and turns away from the Admiral.
Crossfire: Yes, well I don't particularly want to talk to you.
Avenger: Fine. My life span is at least 10 times yours. I can wait.
Crossfire: Look, Admiral, I tendered my resignation. If you people can't
just accept the damn thing and let me get on with my life--
Avenger: If you can call that getting on with your life. I'm not leaving
this cell until we've talked. And then, I'll honor whatever decision you
make. But hear me out first.
Crossfire: Fine. Talk.
Avenger: Don't pull the denial crap with me, Crossfire. Picard was a
friend of mine too.
Crossfire: Harumph.
Avenger: And I *know* you knew him better and longer...and frankly I'm still
rather envious.
Crossfire (sarcastically): You? Envious of a lowly Lt. Commander? That's
hard to believe, Mr. I'm-in-charge-here-cause-I'm-the-Admiral.
Avenger (ignoring the attack): In a lot of ways, Crossfire. You're relatively
young, your career most certainly is. You're able to be out there amongst
the stars, doing what you do best. Meanwhile, I sit behind a desk.
Crossfire: That's not *my* problem.
Avenger: Yes, well...you got to know the most prominent man of the past
century and got to know him very well. You've won the respect of Admirals
and starship Captains and Ambassadors all over the galaxies with your quick
thinking and perfect timing.
Crossfire: Yes yes yes. What a bunch of --
Avenger: And you still have a lot left ahead in your life, no matter what
you decide to do. (Changing tactics) You know, I've thought about
resigning a thousand times before.
Crossfire: So why don't you?
Avenger: Oh, it's this damn martyr complex of mine. One of those awful
attributes of my race...give until it kills you, duty before your own
enjoyment, death before giving up.
Crossfire (sarcastically): Sounds fun. Where do I sign up?
Avenger: Cut the crap, Crossfire. I'm in no mood.
Crossfire: All right! What do you want from me?
Avenger: We have a serious problem on our hands. While you've been sulking
and trying not to get on with your own life in Picard's absence, things have
been happening around here.
Crossfire: Like?
Avenger: The Borg are back--
Crossfire: (laugh) Oooh, I'm scared. See me shaking? (sarcastically)
Apparently you don't remember us beating the crap out of them a few years
ago.
Avenger (cross): I lost a command -- and some good friends -- to them.
Remember?
Crossfire shuts up, realizing he's overstepping his bounds, but he still
isn't too impressed.
Avenger: The Borg are back, but they've changed. Somehow, for some reason,
they've joined forces with the Lucky Charms. Sensors on the _Croutonprize_
and _Subaru_ both detected the resonance traces of a Lucky Charms Masters'
ship.
Crossfire: Oh shit.
Avenger: And just over two days ago, they kidnapped Missy Midzor from the
_Subaru_, here in the LMC. (pause, sadly) Garth knows what they've done
to her, but I wouldn't want to be in her shoes.
They sit in silence for a moment.
Picard (voiceover in Crossfire's brain of a conversation long ago): There
is no way to describe it to you, my friend. It was a rape...a rape of
my personality, my individuality...all that made me distinctively me.
The Borg made me...kill my friends...and I could do nothing but watch
in terror as I tore their ships apart.
Crossfire: All right. Here's how it works. I help you get Missy back and
stop these bastards once and for all. Then I'm free to go my own way.
Avenger: Okay. (stands up)
Crossfire stands up, surprised by the quick response from Admiral Avenger.
Crossfire: What do you mean, "Okay"? (pause) Don't you go pulling any
of this reverse psychology bullshit on me.
Avenger pulls out a piece of paper and a pen, signs the paper, and hands
it to Crossfire.
Avenger: See this? You do your part and you'll have your resignation and
a ride back to the Milky Way -- no trouble. Signed, sealed and delivered
by Avenger, Admiral M.R., LMC Frontier Commander.
Crossfire: You're serious.
Avenger takes back the paper, folds it up, and puts it away.
Avenger: This is a serious matter, Commander. Now do you accept your
terms, as stated?
Crossfire nods. Avenger taps his communicator.
Avenger: Let us out of here. And fetch Crossfire's bow.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
Do you want to listen to an annoying little brat any time of day?
Do you wait in anticipation for his next prank?
Call 1-900-BARTMAN.
That's 1-900-BARTMAN.
And if that's not enough, get the latest juicy gossip about Lisa Simpson
from her brother's secret files. Call 1-900-SIMPSON.
5 credits for the first minute. 3 credits for each additional minute.
Croutons only.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Back on the _Melbourne_...
Missycutus: Are you enjoying it yet, Captain Flirt? Can you see as well
in the dark as you can in the light?
drewid: I wonder how Kerry would respond to that question?
Muirden: Shhh! (pause) Now, look here, Missy. I demand you release
us from your "spell" or whatever you want to call it immediately.
Lucky Lecter joins Missy on screen now.
Lecter: You are in a position to demand nothing, Captain. We, on the
other hand, are in a position to EAT everything.
Missycutus hungrily licks her lips in anticipation.
Lecter: Now, now, Melissa. You must save your appetite for later. We'll
be having a *special* treat then. For now...the song.
[To the tune of "Busta Groove" by Young MC]
Missycutus: Lucky Lecter drank blood nectar.
Tasty humans in every sector.
You can't harm us Lucky Charm-s.
We even ate up bad ol' Armus.
Lucky Borg: Do you want it?...We've got it...
(REFRAIN) We will assimilate everything you got.
Do you want it?...We've got it...
We will consume everything you worked for.
Missycutus: Hunger hits hard; Bye-bye, Picard.
Kill the lights and toss the cue card.
Croutons teased me endlessly...
But now I'll get them -- 1,2,3!!
Lucky Borg: Do you want it?...We've got it...
(REFRAIN) We will assimilate everything you got.
Do you want it?...We've got it...
We will consume everything you worked for.
We will consume EVERYTHING you worked for!!!
We will consume EVERYTHING YOU WORKED FOR!!!!!
Lucky Lecter begins to laugh aloud. Missycutus quickly joins in, as do
the rest of the Lucky Borg. Their laughter resonates throughout the halls
of the _Melbourne_.
Lucky Borg: HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!
Laughter continues as we zoom in on the gaping maw of the laughing
Lucky Lecter.
FADE SOUND DOWN AS WE 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 4: "Black Eagle"
Missycutus puts the Romulans to a test...
Torbog: Modulate shield nutation.
...and her new secret weapon could be their undoing.
Missycutus: I assure you, it *is* an improvement.
Why is she doing this?
[To the tune of the Diet Coke commercial]
Euge: Just one reason...
Paula: Just one reason...
Euge & Paula: Just for the taste of it... LUCKY CHARMS!!
Missy's revenge, on all-new episode of STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: Thu, 6 Jun 91 16:49:14 -0600
From: zecca@tramp (Emulator of Borg)
Subject: ST:TCG4 (**LONG**)
Interior, Admiral Avenger's office. Avenger paces in front of the larger
viewscreen, where a recorded message plays.
Van Tripp: It's not so simple, Bob. We can't just let Crossfire go without
a fight. (pause) But I understand your situation, so I'm not going to
press further until this is all over. Thank you again for recommending me
to the post. I hope I can do half as much as Picard did in this position.
Star Fleet defenses are bolstering for another invasion. The Romulans
and the Klingons are being unusually cooperative and even the Ferengi have
offered to stay out of our way. There is no word back from HVR Governor
Tarkanian at this time.
Fare thee well, my friend. I hope your forces can take care of this
before another invasion begins. Wesley Van Tripp, signing off."
Avenger (half-smile): He always did have an interesting way with words.
Bradford (ic): Admiral, I've got Captain Muirden on-line. I think you'd
better get over here.
Avenger (taps panel): I'll be right there, Mark.
* * * * *
Somewhere in the LMC, aboard the _T'Kryllyk_ (sometimes known as the
_USS Bald Eagle_): [All lines translated from the Romulan.] Wagner's
_Die Walku"re_ in the background.
Science Officer (older Romulan man): Commander, Borg vessel approaching.
Torbog: Prepare to switch from cloak to combat stance.
Helm (young Romulan woman): Commander, they have locked on a tractor beam.
Torbog: Decloak now. Modulate shield nutation. Call for assistance.
Weapons Officer (hothead Romulan woman): Assistance? We are *Romulans*,
Commander.
Torbog: And these are not just everyday Borg, Centurion. We may find that
our comrades will need to know what we have faced in order to defeat them
should we fail.
Science: Shield nutation modulation has failed. Tractor beam is locked on.
Helm: We are now fully decloaked. Three seconds until sensors return to
normal.
Weapons: All weapons primed and ready, Commander.
Torbog: Fire at will. Somebody give me that damn commlink!
Helm: Commander, you are being hailed by the Borg...by name.
Torbog: *I* am? (pause, then grimly) On screen.
Missycutus (in Romulan): I am Missycutus...of Lucky Borg. (smiling, her
mandibles now a good four inches long) Your resistance is hopeless,
Commander Torbog.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
"The Silence of the Croutons"
Part 4: "Black Eagle"
Written by Admiral Avenger
(With a tip of the keyboard to Thomas Harris)
Guest Stars
Mart McChesney as Lucky Lecter
Lalla Ward as T'Kreila
Michael Ironside as Torbog
James Carrey as Janson
Special Guest Stars
Anthony Hopkins as the voice of Lucky Lecter
Christopher Plummer as Admiral Wesley Van Tripp
Directed by Rob Bowman
Incidental Music by Michael Hutchings
Paula Abdul Archives by Euge Yee
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Conference Room, _USS Chivalier_. T'Lilith, Tracy and Chow are seated at
the table facing the viewscreen, where Admirals Avenger and Bradford appear.
T'Lilith: She is making slow progress...but we are *making* progress.
Tracy (to T'Lilith): I don't know if it's *us*, Admiral. (to Avenger)
T'Lilith's mind-meld seemed to break the first barrier, but I'd hazard
that the time and affections of another member of the crew are having
a much stronger effect on her.
T'Lilith: Impossible! T'Kreila is a Klingon!
Avenger (ss, interrupting): boH'wI, I'm glad she's improving. I'd really
like to meet your sister someday. However, we have a bigger problem on
our hands right now.
Chow: Such as?
Bradford (ss): As was expected, the Lucky Borg have a new speaker...
Missy Midzor.
Tracy: Sh**.
Bradford (ss): You can say that again.
Tracy: Sh**.
Captain Chow glares at Counselor Tracy for that last smart-alec comment.
Chow: So they have Missy...that will be a problem. But how bad can it be?
Bradford (ss): Captain, they have *MISSY*. The crew of the _Melbourne_
are using candles to get around the ship until we can get a rescue ship
out to them!
Tracy/Chow: Sh**.
T'Lilith: If I can get through to T'Kreila and convince her to help me...
I might be able to use her knowledge of the Lucky Borg to our advantage
as much as they are using Missy.
Chow: Isn't that a little unethical?
T'Lilith: Maybe, but if anyone deserves-- (pause) It's about the only
chance we've got.
Avenger (ss): We have one other, but any help we can get... (pause) I'll
keep it in mind, dear. Avenger out.
T'Lilith: Shall we get back to our patient?
Tracy: Okay, whatever. (juggles)
The three leave the conference room.
* * * * *
On Deck 12, Tracy and T'Lilith head toward the security section. Near the
brig, they find Janson walking T'Kreila slowly down the hallway, leading
her with his arm in hers. T'Kreila looks rather blankly straight forward.
T'Lilith: What are you doing, Lieutenant?!?
Janson: I was just taking her out for a walk, Admiral. I was hoping the
sights and sounds of a starship would reawaken her memories.
T'Lilith (stubbornly): Hardly. She wouldn't know a starship if it fired
a spread of Crouton torpedoes at her.
T'Lilith marches off in a bit of a huff.
Janson: What was all that about?
Tracy: I don't know, but I'm going to find out. (pause) Don't keep her
out here too long, and call me at the first sign of trouble.
Janson: Yes, Counselor. Of course.
* * * * *
Within the darkened bridge of the _T'Kryllyk_:
Torbog: Turn the damn lights back on!
Missycutus (ss): Swearing is futile. You will remain in the dark.
Torbog: Commander Midzor, I don't know what they've done to you, but--
Missycutus (ss): Concern is irrelevant, Commander. I now belong to a
superior species. I assure you it *is* an improvement. Your pitiful Romulan
excuse for a ship is irrelevant. (pause) But my friends and I grow hungry.
Torbog opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out. In the darkness
of his bridge, he mouths the words "What do you mean 'hungry'?" Failing
that, he mouths "What the hell???"
Missycutus (ss, licking mandibles): Discussion is irrelevant. Missy had only
irregular effect on light waves. The Lucky Borg have given me the ability
to control a variety of wave forms. (pause) You *will* be consumed.
Three Lucky Borg step onto the bridge of the _T'Kryllyk_. A quiet combat
starts to ensue. Firing his disruptor and noticing its lack of effect,
Torbog crawls into a ventilation shaft and begins heading downward. In
the background, the silent screams of his loyal crew, as they fight to their
deaths, haunt him. As he crawls through the air vents, he watches in horror
as his loyal crew are struck down and swallowed on all decks.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
(From "The Official Hungarian Phra~se Bo"kk (Complete with Dance Steps)"...)
COME TO WHERE THE SPAM IS...
The Green Midget Cafe, Bromley.
Home to Spam and occasional Viking hordes.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Croutonizer Room 2, _USS Croutonprize_.
Crouton: Welcome back, Crossfire.
Crossfire: Hopefully not for long... Let's get this over with. I'll need
an update on everything you've got on the Lucky Borg. I want tactical
analysis from all ships that have encountered them. And I want Missy
Midzor's service record and any other personal information you can give
me about her.
Taubman: Wow. Right down to business, huh?
Crossfire glares at Jason, who looks toward the door.
Taubman (leaving): I'll just be...uh...running a level 1 diagnostic on
the...uh...crouton flow stabilizers. Yeah, that's it.
Crouton: Commander, Soraya is preparing the information for all of us as
we speak. We will go over this in the conference room in--
Crossfire: No, sir. I'll do this my way. Let me look over the information
and formulate a plan. When I'm ready, I'll give you your mission plan.
Crouton: Commander, I--
Crossfire: I am speaking as a Star Fleet Tactical Specialist, Captain, not as
someone under your command. If I need to, I can get a half dozen Admirals
to back me up before you can say "I don't know anything." Don't get in
my way.
Crossfire begins to walk out the door.
Crouton (quietly): Have it your way, Commander. I just hope you can find
the solution. I know what Missy Midzor is capable of...and I am *not*
looking forward to an encounter with her.
Crossfire lessens his defensive stance and returns inside the room, so the
door can close behind him.
Crossfire: I know, Captain. That's why I need your help more than anyone's.
(pause) I'll do whatever I can to get her back. You know that.
* * * * *
In Ten Forward, Euge sits in a corner booth, a half-finished glass of milk
sitting in front of him. He stares into the glass, looking depressed.
Paula: Euge?
Euge (looking up, then looking down again): Hi, Paula...
Paula: What's wrong?
Euge: First Justin resigned his commission. Then Admiral Picard died. Now
the Lucky Charms are back and have Missy. And Commander Carter and Admiral
Avenger are so busy...I don't really have anyone to talk to.
Paula (puts a hand on his shoulder): You have me.
Euge: Thanks.
Paula: I've been thinking about writing a new song about this whole mess.
You know, something the kids can use to remember their Lucky Charm Invasion
history lessons and so on. Want to help?
Euge: Um, sure.
Paula (handing him a padd): Okay, here's the music...
[To the tune of the Diet Coke commercial by Paula Abdul & Elton John]
Euge: Not for the way we're soft and crunchy.
Paula: Not for the way we put a smile on their face.
Euge: Not for the way we go down easy.
Paula: Not for the way we carry on a tune...
Euge: Just one reason...
Paula: Just one reason...
Euge & Paula: Just for the taste of it... LUCKY CHARMS!!
Paula (quietly): Just one reason...
Euge (quietly): Just for the taste of it...
Daemon (from the next booth): Naaah. It'll never work.
Euge & Paula shrug. He drinks the rest of his milk, then they leave Ten
Forward hand in hand.
* * * * *
T'Lilith sits in her black Vulcan meditation robes near the window of the
_Chivalier_ VIP quarters. She holds the Klingon seal medallion that hangs
around her neck in her right hand as she stares out the window. The door
chimes.
Tracy: Admiral...
T'Lilith: What do *you* want?
Tracy: We need to talk.
T'Lilith: All right.
The door opens and Counselor Tracy enters. Noticing her position and mood,
Tracy puts away his juggling equipment and sits down in the window next to her.
Tracy: Admiral, as ship's Counselor, it's my place to report unusual mood
swings in the ship's crew. It's also my job to help those crew solve their
problems, so they don't interfere with the mission. Something is wrong
with you, Admiral. I'd like to know what.
T'Lilith sits motionless for a moment, then her Vulcan expressions slide
and give way to Klingon tears (subtle, but there).
T'Lilith: I'm sorry, Counselor. (pause) Growing up, T'Kreila and I didn't
get along very well. She's my younger sister, but only by two years.
Tracy: Two years? I thought Vulcans could only mate every seven..?
T'Lilith (matter-of-factly): My *mother* is a Vulcan, Counselor. It is
the Vulcan *male* that is so restricted. The female tends to link to her
husband's sex drive via their psionic link, so she was linked in to the
Klingon mating cycle.
Tracy (blushing): Sorry to pry. (pause, changing tactics) So was this
an ordinary sibling rivalry, or is there something more to it?
T'Lilith begins to stroke the Klingon medallion nervously as she talks.
Tracy notices her action, but doesn't say anything for now.
T'Lilith: Well, um...a Vulcan-Klingon union sounds shaky enough to begin
with, right? (deep breath) It didn't last forever. My parents finally
split after T'Kreila reached the Age of Ascension.
Tracy: That's a Klingon thing, right?
T'Lilith: Yes, Counselor, it's a "Klingon thing." Anyway...I always followed
my mother's lead and received the Vulcan education, so that I could go on
to bigger and better things. T'Kreila tended to follow the Klingon ways.
While my mother and I have had our share of troubles, T'Kreila did not get
along with her at all.
Tracy: But she garnered more of your father's affections because she was
more like him...
T'Lilith (sadly): Yes. I tried in every way to please him, but I never felt
I was doing enough. I wish he had lived to see me awarded the Imperial
Medal of Valor during the Invasion -- to see that I really *do* have honor.
(collecting herself) Anyway, I always resented T'Kreila for having such
a carefree lifestyle and my father's attention.
Tracy: You perhaps wish you had made different decisions in your own life?
(pause) Hmmm... Isn't it possible that your sister resented you for
having things *she* didn't have, such as a strong career and your mother's
attention?
T'Lilith: It's not quite the same.
Tracy: You'd be surprised. (pause) She needs you right now. For everything
else that's come between you two, she needs YOU now. And you're older and
wiser now...perhaps it's time to bury the hatchet.
T'Lilith wipes away the last tear while switching to a toothy grin and
chuckling.
T'Lilith: Bury the hatchet. That's a good one, Counselor. You'd make a
Klingon stand-up comedian yet. (pause, then frowning) It'll be tough.
I don't know if I can do it. She was always a very formidable enemy.
Tracy: You won't know until you try... Wouldn't it be better for you to
help her to her feet rather than kick her while she's down?
T'Lilith: Yes, John. Thanks, John. Through all the rhetoric, I can see
what you're trying to tell me. I'll give it a shot, I guess.
Tracy (helping her to her feet): Come on. I'll be right there if you need
my help.
T'Lilith (annoyed): Thank you, John.
Tracy: By the way, that medallion you've been clutching?
T'Lilith: A gift from my father on my Age of Ascension.
Their communicators chirp simultaneously.
Janson: Admiral, Counselor, come quick! Something's wrong with T'Kreila!
Tracy and T'Lilith look to one another, then head toward the door.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
DeForest Kelley sits on a bench in one of those empty grey backgrounds
TV commercials sometimes like to use.
De: I'm not a doctor, but I play one on TV. Does that make me qualified
to talk to you about life insurance? Certainly not. How about food
products, health care or toothpaste? Hell no.
He pulls up a big bag of dog food from behind the bench.
De: How about dog food? Well, you remember that one episode where we
beamed the dog with the antennae? All right. Buy this dog food. They're
paying me good money to tell you so.
James Doohan walks into shot.
Doohan: That was pretty cynical, De.
De: Blow it out your bairns, Jimmy.
Doohan picks up his garage door opener, pushes a button and then a garage
door closes over the camera view.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Aboard the _USS Heisenberg_, Kabeta turns from the _Heisenberg_ plaque,
whose motto today reads "That parrot's bleeding demised!", to the recently
promoted Lt. JG at the con station.
Kabeta (concerned): Lieutenant, how much longer?
O'Forever: Twelve minutes at current speed. We obviously won't make it
in time.
Furd: I'd tend to agree.
Kabeta: Increase to Jolt-Warp Nine, please.
O'Forever: Okay, we're there.
Scribonia: That was pretty fast.
yaz-pistachio: Jolt Nine isn't exactly slow, you know...
The _Heisenberg_ pulls to a halt near the _T'Kryllyk_ and its Borg leech.
Scribonia: Scan for life signs.
yaz-pistachio: There's not a whole lot--whoa, wait a minute.
Kabeta: What's wrong?
yaz-pistachio: The Romulan self-destruct device has been activated. Sixty
seconds to detonation.
Kabeta: Ensign, take us out to maximum Croutonizer range. yaz, find
*any* surviving Romulans and have Iluvanna get them back here.
A Borg tractor beam smashes against the _Heisenberg_ and begins to carve
a piece out of the hull. A bridge panel explodes near Scribonia, throwing
her and a nearby yeoman to the floor. Scribonia's face is soaked in her
own blood. Kabeta kneels and taps her communicator in one swift motion.
Kabeta: Medical emergency on the bridge!
She cradles Scribonia's head in her hands and tries to wipe away some of
the blood.
Kabeta: Hang on, Scribble.
Thokk: Captain, they are firing their big nasty weapon again.
Kabeta: Shields up. yaz, modulate nutation.
yaz: Iluvanna's croutonizing three survivors now, Captain. I can't--
Kabeta: Thokk, 3 Crouton torpedoes now!!
Three Crouton torpedoes lance out from the _Heisenberg_ toward the Borg
vessel. It phases and the torpedoes pass harmlessly through it.
Iluvanna (ic): I've got them, Captain.
yaz: No more survivors that I can find.
maya: Ten seconds to self-destruct.
Thokk: The Crouton torpedoes bought us time by breaking their tractor beam.
Maybe we should try again?
Kabeta: Ensign O'Forever, prepare for Jolt-Nine any direction on my mark.
Thokk, fire PPR now!
A Plasma Penetrating Round erupts from the _Heisenberg_ just as the Borg
vessel locks on with its tractor beam. As it tries to phase, the PPR
begins to pass through it, but as it is about to pass out the other side,
it detonates.
Kabeta: Jolt-Nine now.
The _Heisenberg_ leaps into warp. The Borg vessel becomes solid again.
The _T'Kryllyk_ explodes. Cutting back to the interior, Dr. Hertzman and
her paramedics exit the turbolift and rush to Kabeta's feet.
Hertzman (working quickly): What happened?
Kabeta: The first attack...panel blew up in her face.
Hertzman: Possibility of shrapnel. This won't be fun. (to her team)
All right, let's do this quickly but gently. (taps communicator) Set
up the shrapnel and burn units. We'll be right there.
Iluvanna (ic): Captain, the Romulans want to see you.
Kabeta: I'll be right there. Furd, take the con.
yaz: Borg vessel in pursuit...and gaining.
Dr. Hertzman and her team carry the stretcher into the turbolift and leave.
Kabeta turns back to the viewscreen in surprise.
Kabeta: Gaining? I thought we surpassed them with Jolt-Warp technology?
Thokk: See the way the Borg ship disappeared? Like a Lucky Charm?
Kabeta: Oh, dear... Iluvanna, send the Romulans to the bridge. I'll be
needing their help.
Iluvanna: Yes, Captain. They are on their way.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
PICARD'S THEOREM
A function with an essential singularity assumes every complex number,
with possibly one exception, as a value in any neighborhood of this
singularity.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
On the way to somewhere in a hurry, Captain Crouton is caught up to by
Crossfire.
Crossfire: Why are we screwing around with fixing the _Melbourne_ when
we have a more important problem?
Crouton: Commander, we might need the _Melbourne_'s help before this is
over, and besides, we might learn something from the damage they've
suffered.
They head into Croutonizer Room 4.
Crossfire: Captain, we're wasting precious time.
Crouton: Star Fleet protocol and courtesy requires us to stop to aid our
comrades when in distress.
Crossfire: Star Fleet be damned! This is important.
Crouton: I'll expect a full report from you in two hours, Commander. We'll
act then. All right? (pause) I haven't forgotten what we're dealing with.
(nods to Taubman) Croutonize.
Two figures appear on the Croutonizer pad before them.
Crossfire: I'm ready NOW, Captain.
Crouton: Hush up and listen, Commander.
Savan (stepping off the Croutonizer): You are *not* going to believe this
one, Captain.
drewid: You thought Missy was bad before...
Savan: Not only did she knock out all the lights on the ship, but she
knocked them out so cleverly that I still can't figure out what to do.
I've installed some temporary lighting on the bridge and we've managed
to revive about half the important screens on the bridge, but boy are
we messed up over there.
Crossfire: Missy's quite talented.
drewid: Maybe, Commander, but she has new powers you're not familiar with.
Crouton: Such as?
drewid: We weren't able to *talk* to each other until they left the sector!
It was like being deaf, dumb and blind, but it happened to everyone on the
ship. Even drewid's stereo wasn't making any noise!
Crossfire (narrowing eyebrows): What? Since when did she have control of
sound waves?
Crouton: Commander, I'd like you to confer with Crossfire about this
problem for a few minutes. (to Crossfire) Report to me in two hours,
as planned.
Crossfire: Yes, sir. (under his breath) Missy, what the f*** are you
up to?
* * * * *
Kabeta paces back and forth in front of the command center.
yaz: They're closing, but slowly.
Kabeta: Take us around the block again, Mr. O'Forever.
Furd: Don't you think they're going to catch onto this soon?
Kabeta: Probably. But what choice do we have? I don't exactly want
to escort them all the way to the SMC.
The turbolift opens and two Romulans step out. They move to either side
of the doors and then Torbog exits.
Torbog (gruff, in Romulan): We are on a Federation ship. Act as they do.
Kabeta (brightening, but only a little): Torbog? You're all right?
Torbog: Yes, Kabeta.
He pronounces it "Kah-bay-tah" with just a little bit of flair produced purely
by his Romulan accent.
Torbog: It is Romulan tradition for a Commander to destroy his ship rather
than allow an enemy to have it, to kill himself before allowing an enemy
take him prisoner. (pause) Personally, I'd much rather live to defeat
that enemy another day, but this is still all quite new to me.
Kabeta: Well, I for one am glad you are alive, Commander. We could really
use your help. What can you tell me about the Lucky Borg?
She motions for him to sit in Scribonia's chair, while she finally rests
in her own chair.
Torbog: They're hideous. A mixture of Lucky Charm ingenuity and biological
advancement with the technology and cold rationalization of the Borg. I'm
not sure anything can stop them.
Kabeta: That is *not* what I wanted to hear.
Torbog: It gets worse. They're being led by a human -- Missy Midzor.
Kabeta: Yes, so I'd heard. How is she?
Torbog: She's not herself. She's as much one of them as Lucky Lecter himself.
Kabeta sighs heavily, then leans forward.
Kabeta: In a way, that doesn't make my job any easier. How can I kill
an old acquaintance?
Torbog: She is not Missy Midzor any more, Captain. She is one of them.
And they are trying to kill us. They've already killed my crew. (pause)
The choice is clear.
yaz: Sorry to interrupt, Captain. They finally saw through the tactic.
Kabeta: Red alert. Prepare to modulate shield nutation. Thokk, load
everything. And if that doesn't work, see if you can't get some rubber
bands for me to shoot at them.
Kabeta stands and smooths her uniform (this does not look like the Picard
Maneuver). She indicates intraship communication.
[To the tune of "You Really Got Me Now" by the Kinks.]
Kabeta: Crew, we are in trouble now.
The Lucky Borg are on their way in.
Please, don't wander 'round the ship.
Just prepare to defend your loved ones.
BLEAH! We are in trouble now!
The Lucky Borg are getting closer closer closer
closer closer closer!
BLEAH! We are in trouble now!
Just stop and remember one thing now...
We're really not quiche!
We're really not quiche!
We're really not quiche!
Thokk: Captains, you being hailed.
Torbog (grimacing): Both of us?
Thokk: Yes, sir.
Kabeta : On screen, please.
Inside a dark Borg vessel, the lights of Midzor break through the darkness
as Missycutus steps forward. As she gets closer, we see her various lights
illuminating the green blood that has dried around her mouth, mandibles, chin
and nose.
Missycutus: Tsk tsk tsk. Running is futile, Torbog. Your thoughts of
escape are irrelevant. And poor little Kabeta. Your command has always
been an uncertain one. We are prepared to give you some certainty.
It is at this point that one of the Romulans notices the _Heisenberg_ plaque
reading "Are you nervy, irritable, depressed, tired of life? Keep it up."
Kabeta: Missy, please... We don't want to cause you any harm. Stop this.
Stop this right now.
Missy smiles, then indifferently places a pointed ear (Romulan) in her mouth
and begins chewing loudly.
Missycutus: Hmm, this would taste wonderful dipped in chocolate. (seriously)
My name is Missycutus of Lucky Borg. I killed your fodder. Prepare to die.
Torbog: Captain, we can't wait...
Kabeta takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, swallows, takes another deep
breath. Snapping her eyes open, she motions for the communications link to
be cut, then turns 180 and looks to Thokk.
Kabeta: Throw everything we've got at them.
FADE TO BLACK
"TO BE CONTINUED"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Next time, on all-new episode of
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
"The Silence of the Croutons"
Part 5: "Expositional Dialogue"
Lucky Lecter tests Kabeta's crew...
Lecter: We must have *our* prize.
[The _Heisenberg_ bridge erupts in confusion -- Lucky Borg, Romulans and
crew everywhere. A wolf leaps on a Lucky Borg in the midst of the mess.]
Kabeta: What on Xavion is going on?
Meanwhile, the _Chivalier_ is having problems of its own.
[T'Kreila flings Counselor Tracy and Lt. Janson simultaneously into
opposite walls in Engineering with T'Lilith somewhere in the middle,
trying to get a hold of T'Kreila.]
How will the crew of the _Comatose_ handle this new challenge?
Tangent: Looks like we picked the wrong week to not have a bridge crew.
The Kunz sings on Star Trek: The Crouton Generation!
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