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==================================
Star Trek: The Crouton Generation
Season 5, Pack #5
"Time's Crouton" Eps. 3 & 4
==================================
Crossfire awoke with a start and snapped vertical, a knife appearing
seemingly magically in his hand. He scanned his surroundings jerkily to
find the alley empty apart from himself and the completely rigid artificial
Admiral resting beside him.
"Okay," Crossfire muttered as his fingers fumbled around behind Data's
back. "Let's see if I can find that 'on' switch..."
Data let out an excited squeal, then sat bolt upright.
"What the hell was that all about?" asked Crossfire.
"You appear to have activated my tickle response program." Crossfire
frowned, while Data smiled. "I developed it in anticipation of working with
Susan Parker."
"Yeah, *she'd* love it." Crossfire looked about. "Admiral, I think
we'd better get a move on."
Data stood and followed, looking about curiously. "What happened to
us? Have you been able to determine our location?"
"No, Admiral. But at a guess, I don't think we want to stay here."
Crossfire heard a car's brakes squeal and turned to find five youths
walking steadily toward them. They did not look the friendly type and
Crossfire suspected they were armed.
"Intriguing." Crossfire looked sharply at Data. "They appear to be
members of an ancient Terran youth gang known as..." Data's head swiveled
toward Crossfire. "Crips?"
FADE TO CREDITS
----------------------------------------------------------------------
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
SEASON FIVE
"Time's Crouton"
Part Two
"Color by Numbers"
Written by
The Admiral
With thanks to Crossfire
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Warm. Humid. Loud. Rumbling.
Angelique Mombi opened her eyes and pushed herself up to a sitting
position. There were people nearby, ooing and aahing, snapping photographs
and looking through binoculars. They had no idea she was even there.
She looked too. She could see some sort of chemical rocket lifting off
in the distance, pushing up and away from the Florida Everglades. She was
obviously mixed with the tourists at the public viewing site several miles
from the old launchpads. She had visited the ruins of Cape Canaveral on one
of her school trips as a child, but she had never seen it quite like this...
Something went wrong. The rocket plume suddenly blew sideways and
outward. She could see the distinct trails of at least two pieces falling
down and away from the site of the explosion. As the people around her
began to realize something was wrong, she could hear the gasps and cries.
"January 28, 1986." A smile began to spread across her face. "A day
that will live in infamy..."
* * * * *
hj felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. She smiled and slowly opened
her eyes.
"You are rested?" the young Japanese woman spoke. hj noted her accent
and her dialect were ancient.
"Wh-where am I?" hj muttered in modern Japanese. Fortunately, the
universal translator built into her communicator pin had already begun
to adapt, though to the woman, hj's translation carried a strange accent.
The young woman looked at her curiously. "You will feel better soon.
Come. You must get dressed. The master will be here soon."
The master. hj didn't like the sound of that...
* * * * *
"Um, Jason."
"Missy, where are we?"
"More importantly, where we can we find some clothes?"
* * * * *
"Where the froop are we?"
Heins looked about him. "*When* the froop are we? And why am I stuck
with you?"
Zort ignored the latter comment and took in his surroundings. They were
on the deck of a large cruise ship, sitting on deck chairs, looking out at a
beautiful night sky. It was very chilly though. Zort wondered if they should
really be sitting outside like this, without proper clothing.
"Zort, from the looks of it, we're not going to be here long..."
"Why not? It looks kind of relaxing..."
John pointed to a life preserver hanging on the wall. Inscribed in bold,
friendly letters on its side: "S.S. Titanic".
* * * * *
Crossfire breathed easier now that they were out of Oakland and in broad
daylight. Data did not breathe, so it was an irrelevant point for him. They
stopped at a newspaper box. "Um..." Crossfire examined the box carefully,
then began to press and poke and prod it to no avail. He finally shoved the
machine hard and aggravatedly asked Data, "How do you make this thing work?"
"They still use newspapers, Mr. Crossfire. Unfortunately, we do not
have any currency with which to purchase one. However..." Data leaned down
to examine the front page more carefully. "San Francisco. Dec. 12, 1986."
"Wonderful!" exclaimed Crossfire. "At least we're on Earth, but how the
hell did we end up here *now*?"
"I am not sure." Data cocked his head and examined the surroundings.
"It has changed a great deal since I was here last."
"When was that?"
"1893."
Crossfire eyed him curiously, but his attention was drawn away by a loud
car horn in the distance. "Well, double dumb-ass on you!" cried a semi-
familiar voice in the distance. Intrigued, he motioned for Data to follow.
Two blocks over, a group of people in 23rd century fashions milled about
a street corner. Someone in a Star Fleet uniform of that time period turned
and called back to them. "And break up. You look like a cadet review!" The
admiral and his Vulcan companion disappeared into a nearby shop.
"Intriguing..."
"Cool. I always wanted Scotty's autograph." Crossfire began to rush
forth, but Data restrained him.
"Mr. Crossfire, I do not believe that wise. History did not indicate
that we joined Admiral Kirk and his party on their return voyage."
"All I wanted was an autograph," Crossfire whined.
Data shook his head "no" and they headed down a side street.
"Admiral, if we're going to survive in this century, we're going to need
some of that currency you were talking about..."
"Ah!" Data stopped a passerby. "Excuse me. Could you please direct me
to the nearest gambling establishment?"
"Get away from me, you albino freak." The man hurried away. Crossfire
began to pursue.
"Mr. Crossfire, I do not believe that would be a good idea." He noticed
a bulge behind Crossfire's uniform tunic. "If I remember correctly, carrying
a concealed firearm without a permit is a punishable offense in this time
period. You will want to be careful about drawing attention to yourself."
* * * * *
"Dr. Feynman, I presume?" Mombi held out her hand expectantly and
flittered her eyelids.
"I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"Angelique Mombi."
"Are you press...or...?"
"No, no. I..." Mombi worked to recall the idioms, then smiled grace-
fully. "I just flew in. I was...part of the Giotto team at ESA--"
"European Space Agency? So what brings you here?"
"I have been developing...an advanced propulsion system, but ESA has
been unwilling to back my project past the design phase. However, in my
research, I believe I have uncovered the problem with your space shuttle...
...and how to improve the design in the future."
"Really?"
Mombi looped her arm through Feynman's and walked with him toward the
stage where the Challenger Commission was to convene. "I think everyone is
overlooking the obvious. The Commission is prepared to invest a large sum
of money into a long-winded study to determine whether the O-ring material
could break under the temperature conditions that existed on January 28. Now
knowing your reputation, Dr. Feynman, I was wondering if you had actually
tried the test yourself?"
"Of course." Feynman slapped himself across the forehead. "What am I?
An idiot?" He smiled at her genuinely and took her hands in his excitedly.
"Wait here a moment. I've got to see if I can find a sample..."
As Feynman walked off, Mombi nodded and smiled to herself. Ass-kissing
appeared ever more effective in the *twentieth* century...
* * * * *
"The Master? No, he'd have some dreadfully melodramatic scheme with me
right at its center." The Doctor puzzled over things. "The Rani? Not her
style at all. Not Daleks, not the Sontarans, certainly not Cybermen--"
"Doctor, whatever are you babbling about?"
"I am examining my memory of a rather voluminous ensemble of antagonists
I have acquired over the centuries to ascertain whether one of them could be
responsible for this..." His voice trailed off. "You know, I knew another
Soraya once. Beautiful young princess in ancient--"
"Doctor, please!" Soraya turned to the science stations. "Anything?"
"No clues here," Susan reported. "But _Subaru_ called to tell us that
hj is missing too." She chuckled. "We're all invited to the party."
"Now is definitely not the time for gay pageantry." The Doctor sat down
at the science station next to Susan and began to type frantically.
"Doctor, what are you doing?"
The Doctor lifted one hand with the index finger raised. "Patience,
Sarah Jane. Observe a genius at work."
Susan crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the floor, watching the
Doctor with amusement. When he finished, he displayed his results and turned
to her.
"Now, do you think you can modify your sensors in this manner?"
"No problem." She lifted an eyebrow in appreciation of the complexity
of the design. "Rhee and I could have that done in an hour or so, but--"
"Splendid! Splendid!" The Doctor grasped her by the shoulders. "You
must tell me the moment you find anything." He leapt to his feet and glided
towards the turbolift doors. Soraya followed at a trot.
"What am I looking for?" called Susan.
"Timescoop resonance traces!" cried the Doctor as the doors slid shut.
* * * * *
"Where are we?" Peri shivered, more out of fear than cold.
Raptor looked about, examining the plant life. "Earth. Cenozoic Era.
Quaternary Epoch? Probably somewhere near Boston."
"How can you tell all that just by looking at the trees?" She shivered
now from the cold and wet. The rain continued to pour down on them.
"A properly trained paleontologist must know something of paleobotany
as well, Miss Brown."
"Yeah, but Boston? Before I took up with the Doctor, I was studying to
be a botanist, but I'm not THAT good."
"I obtained my paleontology doctorate from Yale while attending Star
Fleet Academy. I do know *something* of New England's flora."
"Well, do you have to be so uppity about it?" She looked about for
shelter. "Look, can we, uh, get out of this rain?"
Raptor sniffed the air and turned toward his right. "This way, I should
think." He began to sneak off in that direction through the bushes.
"Wait for me!" She ran up alongside him. "You know, you're as bad as
the Doctor." Her insults blended into questions as she examined him. "How
did you get that name anyway, Raptor? Doesn't that mean 'bird of prey' or
something?"
"The Latin root intends 'thief.' It has also been misapplied to a genus
of dinosaurs which were originally believed to have stolen the eggs of other
dinosaurs. Velociraptors were, in fact, some of the most intelligent and
fiercest hunters of the Cretaceous."
Peri couldn't absorb all this information at once, but played along
since he seemed to know where he was going. She was primarily concerned with
finding a dry, warm place to rest and sort things out.
"My PhD advisor and I went to Kronos on a dig while I was still at the
Academy. I uncovered the first complete Klingon velociraptor skeleton and
overturned quite a few people's theories on Klingon evolution. The Klingon
scientists honored me and bestowed upon me the nickname toQ, which in their
tongue means 'bird of prey.' Terrans, as usual, mistranslated the name to
Raptor, though in this case I don't mind since it openly expresses my affec-
tion for my favorite subject of study."
"You said 'Terrans' like you're not one."
"I was born on the fourth planet of the star system you would know as
Alpha Centauri."
"Oh, yeah. I've heard of that one. Closest star to Earth, right?"
"Third and fourth, to be precise." His voice dropped reverently. "Used
to be..." They stopped and Raptor cupped a hand over Peri's mouth before she
could utter a sound. They emerged from the brush just a few meters from the
door of a log cabin. Grey smoke poured out of a hole in the roof.
Raptor pulled out his tricorder and scanned the ancient house.
"Five life forms, oxidizing heat source... Hmm..."
"What? What's going on?"
Raptor considered immobilizing the Doctor's obnoxious companion with his
Venusian aikido, but was afraid she'd slap him with a sexual harrassment suit
once they got back to the ship.
* * * * *
"Well, we've got clothes," said Jason, looking down at the ancient
costume he had 'borrowed' from a clothesline. "Now what?"
"Um...why don't we figure out where we are?"
As Missy and Jason walked amidst the lush green of New Jersey, they were
passed by the odd horse-driven carriage. It was clear they had arrived some-
where in Earth's late nineteenth century.
"Jason, look!"
She pointed excitedly to a building a couple of blocks away.
"It's a building."
"Not just any building!" She lifted her skirts above her ankles and
began to run forward. Halfway down the street, she turned and called with
a smile. "Come on!"
"But where are we going?"
"This is Menlo Park!"
"Missy, no!!!" Jason swore to himself and picked up his pace.
* * * * *
"The game progresses." Richard Arnold looked insufferably pleased with
himself. He needed someone to gloat to. "Boy Blunder!"
Jeff Sicherman came running from a side room, carrying a tray filled with
various cheeses, crackers and a bottle of Chateau Wino (complete with screw-
top cap).
"Yes, Master! Are we winning?"
"All goes well. How is the prisoner?"
"He rests for now, Master. Perhaps you'd like to take the next round?"
"I would indeed," Arnold smiled. "You have the comfy chair ready?"
"Yes, Master. He has resisted the soft pillows and the silk pajamas.
I have prepared the vibrating massage unit, just in case."
"Good henchman, Boy Blunder! Good henchman! Partake in this feast
while we watch our foes writhe in agony."
"Thank you, Master."
* * * * *
"Name?"
"My name is Carlos Martinez," Data reported. "I am from Brazil." Three
months of dead-end jobs and they were no closer to an answer regarding their
abrupt arrival here. Their search for answers (and income) had recently
brought them to Los Angeles.
"Oh, Mr. Roddenberry will like that. Take a seat over there. You're
numero 37."
"Thank you." Data nodded politely to the woman and took a chair with
the other actors.
"You here for the Lt. Cdr. Bitnet audition too?" asked a youthful man
with thinning hair and a short ponytail.
"Yes." Data extended a hand in greeting. "My name is Carlos. I am
from Brazil."
"Well, he's certainly got the android motions down," smiled another.
Data was surprised at how much the actor resembled his creator, Dr. Soong,
in his youth. "The complexion is rather interesting, but I don't think
an android would be quite so...personable."
"I would beg to disagree," Data replied. "A well-designed artificial
life form programmed to emulate human behavior--"
"Brent, give the guy a break." A tall, stocky man with a head covered
in curls and a hint of an Irish brogue in his voice greeted Data with a warm
handshake. "I'm Colm. You've met Eric and Brent. I guess you could say
we're the competition."
"It is nice to meet you." Data was about to comment more on android
design when a woman opened the far door and called for number eight.
"That's me," smiled Brent. He winked at Data and left for his audition.
"Intriguing," whispered Data.
* * * * *
"Um, why don't you go first?"
"What's wrong, Peri? Turkey?"
Peri laughed softly. "I think the expression you're looking for is
'Chicken?'"
"'Does he care?' the audience wondered as the dashing paleo ventured
forth." Raptor pushed open the door. The house was quiet and dark. "Now I
know there are people here." He stowed his tricorder, removed a small flash-
light from the pouch and shined it into the small room.
As the beam illuminated a woman with two small children, the woman cried
out in fright. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you," said Raptor. "I just
wanted to use your phone...if you've invented them yet." Raptor looked
accusingly at Peri. "What IS it with you Earth women anyway?"
They heard footsteps approaching from behind. Raptor whirled in attack
mode to find a man and his teenage son pointing weapons of some sort at him.
Peri shrieked.
"Stand thee still, son of Satan!" commanded the Quaker father.
His son approached Raptor cautiously, musket levelled. "You will burn
here on Earth, warlock. And then almighty God shall sentence you to a fiery
eternity in Hell with your Master!"
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The Doctor Colin Baker
Data Brent Spiner
Crossfire Jonathan Reid
Angelique Mombi Jacqueline Pearce
Peri Nicola Bryant
Raptor Jeff Goldblum
Soraya Soraya Ghiasi
Susan Susan Parker
Missy Melissa Midzor
Jason Jason Maron
half japanese Kerri Russell
Zort Chris Hassell
Heins John Heins
Richard Feynman William Russell
Brent Spiner as himself
Eric Menyuk as himself
Colm Meaney as himself
Admiral Kirk William Shatner
Spock Leonard Nimoy
The Cadet Review James Doohan
DeForest Kelley
Walter Koenig
Nichelle Nichols
George Takei
Japanese woman Tia Carrere
Quaker Richard Franklin
and
Richard Arnold as himself
Jeff Sicherman as Boy Blunder
DIRECTED BY INCIDENTAL MUSIC
Lisa Goodrich Leonard Rosenman
STORY EDITOR SPECIAL SOUND
Timothy Lynch Dick Mills
VISUAL EFFECTS PRODUCED BY
Leo Plotkin Loqutus Productions
ADDITIONAL SONGS BY
LL Cool J Michael Jackson
Tiffany The Yellowjackets
Billy Idol George Harrison
HAPPY 30.5th ANNIVERSARY, DOCTOR!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Voyage through time to the Crouton Generation, where Raptor is on trial
for his life...
[Quaker courtroom]
Crowd: Witch! Witch! Witch!
Raptor: This trial is a mockery!
...and hj is trapped in ancient Japan.
hj: What the hell is that?
Will a Crouton's meddling change history forever?
Missy (in 19th century dress, with a sly grin): Have you tried trimming
it with a few picofarads of capacitance?
CROUTONS IN THE PAST TENSE on STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION!!!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Data stood abruptly as he heard the door of the meager apartment open,
but relaxed when he saw Crossfire step in with a bag full of groceries. The
human tossed a newspaper on the rickety kitchen table as he passed to the
antique refrigerator in the corner.
"How was your day at the department store?"
Crossfire answered with a hard glare, sweat dripping from his temples in
the dry summer heat. "I told you I should have taken that mercenary job."
Data ignored the retort and scanned through the newspaper. By the time
Crossfire finished storing the groceries and brought the ingredients for a
sandwich to the table, the newspaper was lying neatly folded before him.
"I still don't see how you read so fast."
"And I was not aware that Angelique Mombi had an ancestor that worked
for NASA."
Crossfire spit his beer all over the sandwich. "What?"
"Here. Have a look." On the front cover of that day's newspaper was a
picture of the President accompanying the headline "Mombi to Head New Space
Agency Efforts."
"She's here...and interfering..." Crossfire looked up with a renewed
vigor. "She must have been responsible...we've got to stop her."
"Crossfire, you are jumping to unreasonable conclusions. First of all,
I doubt this Mombi is anyone but a mere ancestor of our President."
"She is no such damn thing. This is our Mombi. And just as we were
brought here, so was she."
"If you truly believe that, then we should contact her. She may need
assistance--"
"Data, it looks like she's in a lot better position than we are."
"We must pool our resources. If we find a way to return to our own time,
we must take her with us."
"Or kill her."
Data ran his Crossfire humor determination program. He concluded that
this latest statement was not intended as a joke. "Commander, if you are
plotting the assassination of a President of the Federation, I will be
forced to take you into custody."
"Data, get real. We're not in our own century any more. Hell, we may
never get home..." Crossfire's sense of helplessness troubled Data. Was
this the emotion humans called worry? "Look, Data, this is Mombi we're
talking about. I've told you--"
"Yes, you have, *Commander*. So far, you have provided no evidence to
support your claims. Therefore, I must conclude she is innocent of any
charges until proven otherwise. She is..." Data's voice trailed off as
he began to finally accept their predicament. "She *was* our President
and as such, she should be accorded the appropriate respect."
"Then what do *you* suggest?"
"We must go to her and make contact. Perhaps together, we can find a
way home."
FADE TO CREDITS
----------------------------------------------------------------------
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
SEASON FIVE
"Time's Crouton"
Part Three
"Lynch Mob"
Written by
The Admiral
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The turbolift doors opened and the Doctor glided onto the bridge, Jez
the Wonder Cat held closely in his arms. He scratched gently at Jez's ears
all the while.
"Yes, you're a handsome pussycat, aren't you?"
"Mrow meowr mrow mrow. [Well, I like to think so.]"
The Doctor's concentration broke again. He kept forgetting that Jez
was sentient. And why not? As much variety in sentient beings in as many
forms as he had witnessed throughout the Universe -- why shouldn't there be
a sentient version of his favorite species?
The Doctor set Jez down. While the cat scampered over to take the
tactical station, the Doctor walked up to Susan's station, expecting her
to move for him and snorting huffily when she did not.
"Well, Liz. Have you made any progress?"
"My name's Susan." Susan turned her head and smiled at the Doctor.
"Who's Liz though? Is she nice?"
"No time, Susan. What have you got?"
"I have your long range scanner on-line. There are resonance traces
of at least five uses of the Timescoop in the last 24 hours."
"Oh no. This is worse than I had imagined." He sighed and looked about
into space, as if talking to some omniscient presence. "I really didn't want
to involve *them*, but..." He looked down at Susan. "I think tackling this
problem is going to take more than just me."
"Huh?"
"Never mind. Just get those coordinates into a form I can take with
me, will you? It is time we got to the bottom of this plot!"
* * * * *
"We got out of there just in the fleeble of time."
"Zort, somebody's playing with us."
"I'm just glad we didn't sink with the froopin' _Titanic_."
"I don't think we're done yet." Heins let his hand drop to his side
and the piece of paper in it floated down to the ground.
Zort noticed there were several of these pieces of paper lying about.
He also noticed the startled glances of the people that passed them on the
street. He picked up one of the papers and examined it.
"I can't read this greebleblap. What's it say?"
"The Americans say if we don't surrender immediately, they'll drop
another bomb like the one they dropped yesterday on Hiroshima."
"So?"
"Zort...!" Heins looked dumbfounded at the Yoyoboqian's innocent
ignorance of the details. "Let's just say we won't want to be sitting here
sipping saki when it happens, okay? We're in Nagasaki, standing on ground
zero of the second instance of nuclear weapons use in Terran history."
"And that's bad?" Zort's smile slipped when he didn't get the desired
reaction. "Sorry. Ever once in a while one of those slips through."
"One of what?"
"I forget how much you humans don't appreciate the Yoyoboqian sense of
humor." Zort frowned as a thought crossed his mind. "Actually, I never
appreciated it much either, so I don't know why I said that..."
* * * * *
Peri, now dressed in period costume, slipped past the guard and down the
darkened corridor. The stench in the dungeon was overriding, but little
different from a dozen others she had been in since joining the Doctor in his
travels. She turned a corner and ran smack into an anachronistic, owlish man
somewhere in his thirties.
He turned to run; she opened her mouth to scream. They each took a
double-take and stopped dead in their tracks.
"I didn't think red pumps were in style yet."
"And that looks suspiciously like a Star Fleet uniform to me," Peri
replied. "An older one though."
"Older?" He presented his hands before the red uniform jacket commonly
seen in the Star Trek films. "They only issued these a few years ago."
Peri extended a hand in greeting, which he accepted after a moment's
hesitance.
"My name is Lynch," he finally admitted. "Commander Timothy Lynch.
You can call me Tim."
"Perpugilliam Brown. Peri." She looked down at her feet. "And you're
right. The shoes are a bit out of place. I'm not from around here."
"I'd gathered that much."
"Listen, the Doctor and I were on a Star Fleet vessel--"
"Star Fleet? Do you have any idea--"
"Let me finish. Sheesh. It doesn't matter *what* species, you men
are all alike!" Lynch looked taken aback by her remark.
"I'm sorry. I--"
"It's okay,...Tim. I've just had a bad day, that's all." She sighed
as she collected her thoughts. "Where was I? Oh, right. The Docto and I
were on this starship when this big black triangle came through the window,
then zap! Raptor and I landed here in this hellhole."
They could hear footsteps approaching in the distance. Clutching Peri's
elbow in his hand, Lynch led her off down a side corridor, where they resumed
their conversation in a very low whisper. Contrary to popular opinion, Peri
was quite capable of quiet conversation when necessary.
"I saw a black triangle too," whispered Lynch. "Any idea what it's
supposed to represent?"
"The Doctor called it a Timescoop. He was very worried about the
implications..."
"Timescoop? Sounds like some unnecessary technobabble to me--"
"You don't know, do you?" Peri looked him in the eye. "We've traveled
in time."
"Preposterous! With the Guardian, of course. A high-warp slingshot
through a strong gravitational field, sure. But not flying triangles..."
They rounded another corner and Peri nearly stepped on a rat the size
of Jez the Wonder Cat. As her eyes widened and mouth opened to shriek,
Lynch cupped a hand over her mouth from behind.
"Peri," he whispered into her ear. "This is the part of the episode
where we get lost in the tunnels and you scream at monsters, isn't it?"
* * * * *
"He escaped?!?" Richard Arnold whirled and began to beat poor Jeff
Sicherman with the feather end of a large feather duster. "How could you
let him escape, you imbecile?"
"He outwitted me, Master."
"Not so hard, really."
"I couldn't catch him...so I used the Scoop on him."
Arnold's arm stopped, feather duster raised high above his head for
another cushy blow. "Scooped him, you say?" Arnold grinned. "To what
time period?"
"Salem, Massachusetts, 17th century."
Arnold set the feather duster down and wrapped an arm around Sicherman
in a fatherly gesture. "I can think of no one that deserves so awful a fate
as Tim 'voice of the Net' Lynch. Boy Blunder, what would I do without you?"
"You'd probably turn up as a villain on Star Trek, sir."
"You know, somehow I think you're right."
As they strolled into another room for tea, neither noticed the light
still blinking on the Timescoop console.
* * * * *
"Missy, no! You could change history!"
"Nonsense, Jason. I just want to meet him."
"Melissa..." Jason tried to hold her back, but she burst into the room.
A small group of men clustered around a table in the laboratory workshop
looked up at the intrusion.
"Excuse me, Miss, you can't--"
Jason heard the crackle of electricity coming from the tabletop, followed
by the smell of burnt carbon. Smoke poured from the apparatus as the other
men pulled away, coughing. The smoke cleared to reveal a rather familiar
historical figure...
Missy leaned forward with a hand extended, a grin from ear to ear.
"Thomas Edison? Melissa Midzor, at your service."
* * * * *
"No", the old samurai grunted. "She is a foreigner...and her feet are
too big."
"Yeah, yeah and I suppose I've forgotten how to dance too," hj hissed.
"We can fix her feet, master." The young woman averted her eyes out
of respect. "I could begin at once."
"What?" hj leapt to her feet, eyes burning. "What are you--?"
"Silence!" the samurai commanded. When hj did not immediately back
down he stepped forward and struck her across the jaw. His metal gauntlet
dug into her face and she tasted the saltiness of blood in her mouth as she
landed on the ground.
"She has spunk." His eyes narrowed. "I do not like spunk. However,
I know someone who appreciates a woman who puts up a fight." His solid
features broke into a half-smile. "Prepare her...and we will see if she
has the value."
With a clash of metal upon metal, the warrior turned and marched out
of the little bungalow. The young woman turned on hj.
"Do not speak up to the master! Have you no sense, girl?"
hj spit out a tooth and pushed herself into a sitting position. "I'm no
girl, bozo. I'm a grown woman with a mind of my own and...and I don't even
know why I'm here!"
hj's companion was obviously ignoring her, rooting through the room and
returning with something in hand.
"What the hell is that?"
"You heard the master. Your feet are too big. We are going to fix
that." She reached out toward hj's feet with the bindings...
* * * * *
"Doctor, where do you think you're going?"
"I am going to trace this Timescoop to its source and put an end to this
nonsense. I must find Peri and Del, as well as your other missing officers!"
"Until we have established the whereabouts of those officers, I can't
just let you--"
The Doctor threw up his hands. "Fine, then come with me! The longer
you and I squabble, the more likely we are never to find our friends again."
"All right." Soraya looked about uneasily. "But I'll feel safer if--"
"Mrow? [You wanted me?]" Jez rubbed up against Soraya's leg.
"Jezzie, will you--?"
"Meowr mrowp meowrp. [Already on it.]" Jez hoisted his phaser rifle
and smiled.
The Doctor frowned briefly at the weapon, but Jez put on a cute kitten
face and melted the Doctor's frown into a smile. "All right. This way!"
"'The Doctor fails his saving throw,'" Soraya grinned.
"What was that, Romana?" the Doctor called.
"Nothing."
The Doctor led them into Ten Forward and dashed into his TARDIS. Soraya
and Jez hesitated at the doors of the police box.
"Soraya, Jez, come on!" Soraya shrugged her shoulders and entered,
followed by the darting shape of Jez the Wonder Cat.
She was surprised by the sight inside. Jez was simply astounded. The
Doctor ignored their questioning glances and shoved the door switch down,
priming the navigation computer and activating the time rotor.
"It's bigger on the inside than the outside."
"Yes, I know," spat the Doctor sarcastically. "They all come this way.
Dimensionally--"
"Transcendental, yes." Soraya leaned on the console and examined the
controls. "I'm well aware of the theory, Doctor; I've just never seen it
applied in practice."
"Oh, um, yes." The Doctor's concentration clearly shifted to other
matters. He circled the console like a buzzard, pushing the odd button here,
flipping the odd lever there and frowning and squinting at various display
screens.
Jez continued to wander about the room in amazement. "Row. [Wow.]"
* * * * *
"Okay, Data. We're here -- SEVEN HOURS EARLY, but we're here."
"You are absolutely certain this is the Duane Physics Complex? This is
where President Mombi will deliver her presentation tonight?"
"Don't believe me? Fine. Let's ask somebody." Crossfire noticed a
young man sitting outside, studying and nibbling on a sandwich on the south
side of the building. He left Data and strolled straight up to the student.
"Excuse me, would you--"
The young man ignored Crossfire at first, but after another prompting
looked straight up at him and stopped him dead in his tracks. The stranger
was dressed completely in black, wearing long pants despite the sizzling
heat of late July. His face was a curious mixture of Italian, mongrel
European and perhaps even alien features. His eyes, though hidden by grey
lenses, appeared to shoot straight through Crossfire and far off into the
distance. Having spent too much time with his eyes in the sunlight, the
young man suddenly sneezed.
"It really is you, isn't it?"
The student replied in a somewhat nasal, yet pleasantly soft voice that
tried, but somehow failed, to hide a sharper edge. It wasn't able to hide
the dark emotions buried just under the surface though. "Last time I checked
I was still me. Of course, I may not be who you think I am."
Data, by this time, had arrived at Crossfire's side and was similarly
stunned. The image of a golden-skinned android in civilian clothing with his
jaw dropped wide in surprise is the kind you would never forget and the image
certainly burned itself into the young man's memory.
"Well," Crossfire challenged. "Who do you think you are?"
"That's really none of your business. Who do *you* think I am?" the
young man parried, anger burning deep inside him yet again, despite the
readily apparent curiosity in his eyes directed toward Data.
Crossfire smiled at Data. "It's gotta be him. He avoids answering my
questions in the same annoying way I was starting to get used to...before he
left."
Data's eyebrows crept up his face as he leaned over into question mode.
"You are M. Robert Avenger, are you not?"
This time it was Avenger's turn to double-take as he blushed slightly
behind a sly smile. "Some people know me as Mad Bob the Avenger," he slowly
and carefully admitted. "Other people just call me mad..."
"How have you been? *Where* have you been? What have you been doing?"
Crossfire interjected with genuine curiosity.
"Excuse me? Do I *know* you from somewhere...?"
Data pulled Crossfire aside and whispered softly to him. "The Admiral
did tell us he was born and raised in the late twentieth century. This
Avenger probably has not met us yet."
"You mean...this is him as a kid?"
"That would be the most likely explanation for his--" They noticed that
Avenger had gathered his belongings and shot off like a lightning bolt. They
pursued at a reasonable trot.
"Wait!"
"Look, I don't know who you people are, but I wish you'd just get off my
back! Besides, I've got to get to Kunz's lab..."
Data and Crossfire did another double-take.
"Did you say...Kunz?"
* * * * *
Edison had allowed his colleagues to leave for a dinner break while he
began his next experiment. He allowed Melissa and Jason to remain behind,
perhaps intrigued by Melissa's fascination with his work.
"You know a great deal about the properties of electricity...for a
woman. May I ask how you come to know so much?"
Jason laid a hand on Missy's arm before she could utter a feminist
retort. "Missy," he hissed in a whisper. "Remember what year this is..."
She shook Jason's hand off in annoyance and smiled at Edison. "My, er,
husband...did some of his studies in Paris. I...I worked for a time as an
assistant to Madame Curie, since there was..." She glared at Jason out of
the corner of her eye. "Since few women in Paris participate in the same
social circles as I."
"Perhaps you can help me apply some of Marie's genius to this problem
then," Edison suggested. "I'm having trouble sustaining the current at the
proper level, so as not to burn out the filament..."
Missy smiled and shook her head. "If you had told me, I would never
have believed I'd say this, but...have you tried trimming it with a few
picofarads of capacitance?"
* * * * *
A trial was underway in the Quaker court. A large crowd had assembled,
with the town's clergy and leaders scattered through the periphery.
"You people just don't get it, do you?" Raptor shouted. "I perform no
more magic than your own...Galileo! I am a scientist. I study dinosaurs--"
"What are these...dinosaurs?" the judge asked.
Pleased to see a spark of interest in his favorite subject, even if the
locals did appear a bit ignorant of the details, Raptor began to pontificate.
"The various forms of warm-blooded reptile life that ruled your world...and
many others...before human life arose."
"Blasphemy!" yelled one of the assembled Quaker men. "He speaks of the
Devil and his followers!"
"You people are insane and this trial is a mockery!" Raptor stood to
his full height and crossed his arms. "I demand my public defender under the
provisions stated in the Sixth Guarantee of the Federation Constitution."
"Witch! Witch! Witch!" the crowd chanted.
The judge banged his gavel loudly...three times. The crowd settled, but
only just.
"Since the accused does not provide us with a clear confession, there is
only one way to determine whether he is a witch." The judge looked Raptor
in the eyes, but not for long. The unsettling glare of the Centauran was too
much like that one might expect from a warlock. "The accused will undergo
the trial by water at sunrise."
* * * * *
"John, I don't like the looks of these froopin' people."
Heins ignored him, swinging his head back and forth to the music.
"John!"
"What?!?" Heins shouted. The guitar lick was increasing in intensity,
the performer now kneeling on the stage. "Look, Zort, I'm trying to enjoy
the concert."
"Concert? Is that what you call this?"
"Hey, it's better than the disasters we've been forced to visit so far."
Zort cringed as the guitar lick hit a fevered pitch. He clenched his
hands to his ears and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Who did you say this was again?"
"Jimi Hendrix."
"Oh." Zort opened his eyes and looked around again, uneasily. "How
much longer is this going to take?"
John grabbed Zort by the shoulders and stared furiously into his eyes.
"If you don't shut up soon, you're likely to get yourself hurt. I'm not the
only one trying to enjoy this concert and if we're not careful, we won't be
enjoying it for much longer..."
* * * * *
"Triangulating now and...aha! Got you!" The Doctor threw another
switch and the TARDIS lurched slightly.
"Well?"
"'Bingo', as dear Peri might say were she here." Soraya raised an eye-
brow expectantly. "I have found the villain's hideout and we will be landing
momentarily," he explained. "Prepare yourself, Captain. There are extra-
ordinarily malevolent powers at work here. I can not defeat them alone."
* * * * *
Arnold and Sicherman sat on barstools in front of a misappropriated
Time/Space Visualizer, munching on popcorn as they watched a scene unfold.
"Boy Blunder, you've outdone yourself," Arnold smiled as he popped
open another bottle of grape soda. "This is fantastic."
"Now if we could just get Lynch in there..."
"Soon, my boy. Quite soon."
* * * * *
Very early the next morning, Raptor felt something push at his shoulder.
He tried to brush it away, but it pushed more insistently. Annoyed at being
awoken like this, he grabbed hold of the pole and yanked hard. The man on
the other end slammed headfirst into the bars of the cell and fell with a
scream. Three large Quakers rushed into the cell and dragged Raptor force-
fully into the courtyard while their comrade clutched his head and rolled on
the ground in agony.
The entire population of the village appeared to have turned out for
this event. The Quakers hauled him over to and set him down upon a long
plank. Rather than fight them, Raptor stretched out and relaxed as they
began to bind him to it. When they were done, they pushed the board to
a vertical position and held it there, so Raptor could face the crowd.
"Is the accused ready?" the judge asked expectantly.
Looking death clearly in the face, Raptor laughed out loud. "Am *I*
ready?" he shouted to the assembled crowd. "Have you had your entire family
taken from you, a piece at a time? Have you experienced the pain of seeing
your homeworld destroyed, over and over again on galaxy-wide holovision?
Have you watched your worst nightmares come to life before your very eyes..
..on a regular basis? HA!" Raptor turned to the judge and looked him
squarely in the eyes. "Am *I* ready to die? I was ready to die a long time
ago! I just didn't expect to go out like this. The least you could have
done was give me an honorable way out, the kind of fighting chance at death
my Klingon friends would have wished for me..."
His voice trailed off on the last words as he found Peri in the crowd.
She was on the verge of tears and her sadness struck a chord. He had been
fooling himself. He wasn't in the least bit happy about this situation.
His mock joy deflated as she turned away, unable to face him as she wept.
There was another Star Fleet officer there, trying to comfort her. It began
to sink in...Peri wasn't that much older than Pejji. Dear Pejji, studying
so hard at the Academy, with only her Uncle Del left to visit on holidays...
"Cochrane's ghost, she'll be all alone..." The regret in his voice
choked him up and took even him by surprise, but he had little time for
further reflection. The judge dropped his arm in a motion that indicated
that he be lowered into the water. Raptor plunged facefirst into its icy
depths. His heartbeat rumbled in his ears as the water pressed in around
him. Somehow, through the cloudy murkiness, he imagined he could hear a
young woman's scream. Peri's? Or was it Pejji's?
SLOW FADE TO BLACK
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The Doctor Colin Baker
Data Brent Spiner
Crossfire Jonathan Reid
Peri Nicola Bryant
Raptor Jeff Goldblum
Soraya Soraya Ghiasi
Jez His Jezness the Wonder Cat
Missy Melissa Midzor
Jason Jason Maron
Zort Chris Hassell
Heins John Heins
half japanese Kerri Russell
Angelique Mombi Jacqueline Pearce
Cdr. Lynch Timothy Lynch
Thomas Edison Peter Graves
Quaker Judge Bill McCartney
Quaker Rush Limbaugh
Quaker Richard Franklin
Samurai Pat Morita
Geisha Tia Carrere
Young Avenger Michael Zecca
and
Richard Arnold as himself
Jeff Sicherman as Boy Blunder
DIRECTED BY INCIDENTAL MUSIC
Dave McKinnon Roger Limb
STORY EDITOR SPECIAL SOUND
Timothy Lynch Dick Mills
VISUAL EFFECTS PRODUCED BY
Ken Stern Loqutus Productions
HAPPY 30.5th ANNIVERSARY, DOCTOR!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Voyage through time to the Crouton Generation, where the danger to
time is increasing exponentially:
Heins: Leave her be! We don't have time!
Extra #35: Officer, the shots came from up there!
Soraya: Mr. Blobby???
Crossfire: What the hell do you think you're doing?
But the Doctor can't fight the evil alone...
[The Doctor (Colin Baker) is trapped inside a glass booth.]
The Doctor: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
Or can he?
Doctor #7 (lifting hat): Hello, I'm the Doctor.
Doctor #4 (offering a wax paper bag): Jellybaby?
Is there a Doctor in the house?
Doctor #5: When a Time Lord reaches into his own past for assistance,
something must be very wrong with the Universe!
The exciting conclusion, next time on STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION!
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