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You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt,
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
[Interior, restaurant/lounge somewhere. Lots of people, mostly reporters
(we can see the 3-d cameras and padds and such). The doors open, and
Crossfire walks in, looking tired. Suddenly the reporters all leap up
and rush toward him, asking questions and shining lights in his face.
Crossfire stops short and glowers, but the reporters aren't put off.]
Crossfire: No comment.
[The reporters continue to barrage him with questions, unoblivious.]
Crossfire [louder]: No COMMENT!
[The reporters keep on.]
Crossfire [shouting, his voice cutting through the babble]: GENTLEMEN!
[a quiet pause]
Crossfire: I am here to eat my dinner. Excuse me.
Reporter1: But sir, If I may just...
Crossfire [glowering over her]: No.
Reporter 2: Just one...
Crossfire [growling softly]: Go AWAY.
[Slowly the reporters drift away, frustrated and grumbling.]
FADE TO CREDITS
------------------------------------------------------------
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
"The Perfect Game"
Part 20: "Still I Rise"
Written by Crossfire and Kabeta
with apologies to Maya Angelou
Guest stars
Connie Chung as Reporter #1
Maury Povitch as Reporter #2
Music by Kate Bush
Directed by Bruce Beresford
------------------------------------------------------------
[Crossfire goes to a booth and sits down, his back to a wall. A waiter
comes up and takes his order, and the doors open again. The reporters
again rise en masse and mob someone who can't be seen over the cameras
and lights. Crossfire watches interestedly, listening. We make out
snippets of a woman's voice saying "Well, I'm not sure," and "I really
can't say," and things like that. Crossfire starts, recognizing the voice,
and walks over to the group.
The woman's voice is continuing with half-hearted, bewildered protests
("I really want to just be left alone," "All I want is to have dinner,"
etc.), when Crossfire literally shouts.]
Crossfire: Captain Kabeta. I'm glad you could make it.
[All the reporters suddenly shut up and leave. Crossfire grins.]
Kabeta: Thanks.
Crossfire: No problem. Care to join me?
[Kabeta nods, and they return to Crossfire's table where his drink is
waiting.]
Crossfire [nodding to the glass]: You want one?
Kabeta [shaking her head]: No. Just some tea, I think.
[Crossfire nods at the waiter, and Kabeta orders.]
[a beat]
Kabeta: You handled them well.
Crossfire: Not really. Intimidating people isn't handling them, it's
just getting them to avoid you.
Kabeta: I can't even do that.
Crossfire [shrugging]: It *is* a learned skill, mostly.
Kabeta: Yeah, but you're big. You can back it up.
Crossfire: Avenger can't, and he still scares the shit out of alot of
people.
Kabeta: He *is* tall.
[Crossfire nods, and the conversation lulls again. Crossfire's dinner
arrives, with Kabeta's.]
Crossfire [raising his glass]: A toast.
[Kabeta raises her teacup expectantly, waiting.]
Crossfire [suddenly looking tired]: Never mind. I can't think of
anything.
Kabeta [taking the reins of the conversation]: To peace.
Crossfire [looking startled]: I'll drink to that.
[They clink their cups together.]
[A beat passes as they drink, and their food arrives: a sandwich for Kabeta,
some sort of Mexican food for Crossfire. Kabeta picks up her sandwich and
nibbles at it.]
Kabeta: I'm glad we found this chance to get together... catch up a bit after
all this mess.
Crossfire: Yeah. [pause] So just what *did* you do to the Borg at Xavion,
anyway?
[Kabeta laughs.]
Kabeta: Confused the hell out of them, apparently. It was McDonagh's idea.
Crossfire [smiling a little]: Why am I not surprised?
Kabeta: Yes, well... [She scowls slightly.] Some of the papers are calling
it the Kabeta Maneuver, which just isn't fair. It was a team effort; just
about every officer was involved somehow.
Crossfire (nodding): They do have a tendency to do that.
Kabeta: I've never had so many reporters on my back in my life! Everywhere
I go, someone wants to know what we did, or how we did it, or what I'm
going to do next...
Crossfire (half-smiling): Get used to it. They'll do that for the next
several weeks, but then they 'll forget all about us when some other
juicy bit of news gets out. Reporters never change.
[Crossfire reaches for his fork and starts to eat, and Kabeta gives him a
few minutes to get the upper hand on his hunger.]
Kabeta: So how do *you* deal with being a living legend?
Crossfire (mouth full): Hmm?
Kabeta: Well, apparently I'm turning into one, and I know you are one.
[Crossfire opens his mouth to protest, but Kabeta cuts him off] You
know you are.
Crossfire [after a beat, nodding]: Unfortunately.
Kabeta: So how do you cope with it? [As he doesn't answer.] C'mon, you
owe me some advice. [She smiles.]
Crossfire [mumbling around his food]: I never really thought about it,
actually. I just avoid it as much as possible.
Kabeta (nodding and grinning): I noticed.
[Kabeta keeps looking at him, but he just stares at his plate, eating with
embarassed intensity.]
Kabeta: You look pretty beat, Crossfire.
Crossfire: You don't look so good yourself... sir.
Kabeta: For heaven's sake, Crossfire, don't call me sir. We're off duty.
[pause] You're right, though, it's been a pretty rough stretch.
Crossfire: No kidding.
Kabeta: Yeah, I know. Bad for all of us. [pause] The Borg sure learned
from Lucky Lecter...
[Crossfire puts down his fork forcefully, clanking on the plate. He reaches
for his drink. Kabeta watches this with some interest, then continues.]
Kabeta: Well, they led Soraya to LV-826. They sent Bjorn after the Admiral.
They brought me to Xavion...
Crossfire: Actually, that last one puzzles me. LV-826 had lots of iron, plus
that obvious link to Soraya. But why Xavion, apart from torturing us?
Kabeta (shrugs): I don't know. I suppose the lycanthropy would have its
advantages...
Crossfire: You mean that's true, about you and the...
Kabeta: Wolf? Yeah, it's true. And can you imagine a shapechanging Borg?
Crossfire: Yes, but I wouldn't want to.
Kabeta: And the only way they would have known *that* about Xavionites is
through the other way they tortured me.
[Crossfire looks at her, confused.]
Kabeta: The Speaker of the LMC1 Borg ship that we destroyed at Xavion was,
once, a man named Anthony Morgan.
Crossfire: Wasn't he the one who was supposed to take.... Chris's place?
[Kabeta nods painfully.]
Kabeta: Yes. And he was also a very dear friend of mine from Academy days.
Later a rival, but originally a friend, and a person I trusted.
[There is a long pause, while Crossfire watches her with sympathy.]
Kabeta [very bitterly]: And I killed him.
Crossfire: You had to. [pause] We would have killed Missy if we had to
when she was Missycutus.
Kabeta: Yes, but you didn't have to. Maybe I didn't have to either. [pause]
But I didn't see any other way...
Crossfire: Captain... You did what you had to. You saved yourself, your
ship, all the other ships, and your home. Isn't that enough?
[Kabeta looks away, nodding but with a few tears welling up.]
Kabeta: I don't know. I just don't know.
[Fade to black.]
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I dance like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room?
[Interior, _Croutonprize_ bridge. The usual people are here, and Crossfire
walks in, taking his post at the tactical station. Jez walks over to him
and twines himself about Crossfire's legs.]
Jez: purrrrrrrrrrrrrrup. [Helloooooooooooooooooooooooo Crossfire.]
[Crossfire smiles, then reaches down and picks up Jez, scratching him behind
the ears.]
Crossfire: Hi Jez. Have a good night?
Jez: Mrow, meow mrow mew meow meow mow, mrowp. [Yes, but more behind the
ears, please.]
[At this point, Soraya and Avenger arrive in the turbolift.]
Soraya [amused]: Commander Crossfire, would you please stop torturing my cat?
Crossfire: Well, clearly you NEVER pay any attention to this poor, poor
creature. [Jez starts to purr loudly.]
Zen: Information: Repairs to forward deflector banks now completed.
Crossfire [letting Jez down and turning toward the tactical station]: Good.
Zen, run a Level 1 diagnostic on the forward shield projectors.
Zen: Confirmed. Requested function will take fifteen minutes to complete.
[In the background, Soraya and Avenger exchange a meaningful glance.]
Avenger: Commander, if I could see you in the Ready Room, please.
[Crossfire glances curiously at Avenger and Soraya, who are already striding
rapidly toward the doors. After a moment, he shrugs and follows.]
[Interior, ready room. Avenger and Soraya file in; Avenger sits at the
desk and Soraya sits on the couch. A moment later Crossfire enters.]
Crossfire: What?
Avenger: As of this Stardate, Starfleet Command is officially promoting
Commander Ghiasi to Captain, and giving her command of the _Croutonprize_.
[A slow smile spreads across Crossfire's face. He turns to Soraya, about to
say something, but she speaks first.]
Soraya: I want you to be my First Officer, Crossfire.
[Crossfire blinks.]
Crossfire: Uh, me?
[Soraya nods.]
Crossfire: Uh, here?
[Soraya nods.]
Crossfire: Uh, now?
[Soraya nods.]
[Crossfire blinks again, then suddenly turns and leaves.]
[A beat.]
Avenger: Well, he took that well.
[Soraya smirks.]
Soraya: We should have offered him COMMAND of the _Croutonprize_. I'd give
anything to have seen the look on his face...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
[Interior, restaurant, the same one as in the opening scene. This time it's
devoid of reporters, and only a few people sit at the tables. It's very late
at night. Crossfire enters, then sees Kabeta sitting at the table they had
eaten at the other night. He walks over to her.]
Crossfire: May I join you?
Kabeta [surprised]: Crossfire? Everyone's been looking all over for you.
Crossfire [sitting]: Well, I wanted to be alone.
Kabeta [a little crossly]: Soraya was getting worried.
Crossfire: Oh, please. I'm a big boy now. I can take care of myself.
Kabeta: That's what I told her you'd say.
[The waiter comes over, and Crossfire orders a drink. Kabeta orders another
cup of tea.]
Kabeta: So where have you been all day?
Crossfire: In my quarters.
Kabeta: But Zen said you weren't on the _Croutonprize_.
Crossfire: Of course he did. I told him to say that.
Kabeta [smiling]: Oh.
[Their drinks arrive.]
Crossfire: Did you know they're making Soraya captain?
[Kabeta nods.]
Crossfire: And they offered me the First Officer position.
Kabeta [smiling a little]: Well, Soraya did mention something about that...
Crossfire: Yeah, well.
Kabeta: Well, congratulations!
Crossfire: Or condolences, maybe.
Kabeta: Oh, right, you and promotions.
Crossfire (defensive): Hey...
Kabeta: Oh, I know. Believe me, I'm not real thrilled with mine either.
Crossfire: You've been promoted?
Kabeta: Didn't you hear? They've gone and made me Fleet Captain, whatever
that means. [pause] More responsibility, more pressure, more press
attention, mostly!
Crossfire [ironically]: Congratulations.
Kabeta (taking a drink of tea): Thanks... I think. [pause] So are you
going to take the promotion?
Crossfire [shrugging]: I dunno.
[Kabeta looks at him, about to press him further, but he frowns. "Discussion
closed," his face says. She opts for more tea instead.]
Crossfire: So what's next for you, then?
[Kabeta stares into her tea for a second before answering.]
Kabeta: Well, I'm still in charge of the Heisenberg, of course. But before
that... [pause] The Subaru is taking a shipment of relief supplies to
Xavion. They've invited me to go along.
Crossfire: That's home for you, right?
Kabeta: Right. Or at least it's where I came from.
[Silence.]
Kabeta: I've spent the past twenty years avoiding the place, and any
thought of it, as much as possible. Lately, though... and especially
after what just happened there...
Crossfire: Why don't you go back? You don't have to stay, you know.
[Kabeta looks up, surprised at hearing something like that from Crossfire.]
Kabeta: True... [She trails off.] Maybe I should. [pause] Oh, but
you haven't heard the kicker of the whole business.
Crossfire: Oh?
Kabeta: In the attack, the Borg killed the king and queen -- my niece
and nephew, irrespectively. So guess who's next in line?
Crossfire (raising his glass): Your Majesty!
Kabeta (scowling): Oh, stop that. I have enough trouble being a Fleet
Captain, I certainly don't want to be a queen!
Crossfire: So abdicate.
Kabeta: And leave the place in anarchy? Report has it the place is a
disaster, damage everywhere, climate destroyed, all the crops dead.
Crossfire: About typical Borg aftermath, I guess.
Kabeta: So I really don't feel I can leave the planet untended. I may
not feel at home there any more, but... Hell, it *is* my home.
Crossfire: Is there anyone else you can push it off onto?
Kabeta: No, there's no one else of royal blood around... [Suddenly, she
is hit with an idea, and looks appropriately stricken.] Unless...
Crossfire: Unless what?
Kabeta: I looked up Counselor Eliana's heritage once. If memory serves,
she and her husband are both of royal descent. Somewhat distant, but of
royal blood nonetheless.
Crossfire: Yes, but would they take the job? Eliana's got her Star Fleet
career to think of, you know.
Kabeta (shaking her head): She doesn't like it, though. She and Aren
would be much happier raising the twins on Xavion. Especially now that
Eliana's gone blind.
Crossfire: Can you reach them before the Subaru leaves?
Kabeta (enthused by this idea): It's even easier than that. They're
going too. [She looks across at Crossfire.] Thanks for suggesting that.
Crossfire (shrugs): It seemed obvious to me.
[Kabeta does a double-take.]
Kabeta: Have you been talking to my con officer?
[Crossfire looks confused.]
Kabeta (laughing): Never mind.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
[Heisenberg, Ten Forward. Lt. Cdr. Michael Kleber is at a table by himself,
pretending to read the latest mathematical journal. In reality, he is
staring out the window, looking pensive and a little upset. He does not
notice Kabeta approaching until he sees her reflection in the window. He
does not turn to face her immediately.]
Kabeta: May I join you?
[Kleber shrugs. Kabeta's expression falls, and she puts one hand down on
the table's edge.]
Kabeta: Michael, I owe you an apology.
[He looks up, almost surprised.]
Kabeta (sitting down): I had no call to be as harsh with you as I was. I
didn't realize how badly betrayed you felt.
[Kleber nods.]
Kleber: I'm glad you realize that, Captain. [pause] And I'm sorry I
was so cold with you; I know you had a few other things you were
having to do too.
Kabeta (grimacing): How true. [pause] It's amazing what times of stress will
do to personal relations. [pause] I don't think he realized how hurt
you felt, either. I did talk to him and he promised he wouldn't ask you
for any more strategic advice.
[Bradford has walked up during this without either of the others noticing.]
Bradford: But only when you said you would tell him it was taken care of.
[Kabeta and Kleber both jump, and turn to face him. Kleber looks coldly at
the Vice Admiral.]
Kleber: Please sit down... sir.
[Bradford does, a little uncertainly.]
Bradford: Actually, I just came to tell you I'm about ready to leave, Captain.
Kabeta: Oh. Umm... [She is obviously a little put off by the awkwardness of
the situation.]
Bradford: But I was hoping I'd find you too, Commander.
Kleber: Indeed? [He is still rather cold towards Bradford.]
Bradford: I'm sorry if my actions disturbed you. But we were at war, and
we needed every edge we could have.
Kleber: Permission to speak freely, sir?
Bradford: Of course.
Kleber: Why didn't you at least tell me that's what you were doing?
Bradford (softly): Would you have told me if I had?
Kleber (also softly): No, probably not. [Then in a more normal tone of
voice:] I guess I've learned something from this, though.
Kabeta: And that is?
Kleber (looking right at Bradford): Not to give strategic advice unless I
mean it.
[Bradford sighs, and stands up.]
Bradford: Well, I guess there's not much more to say on that account. I'll
be ready to go in about half an hour.
Kabeta: I'll meet you at Croutonizer Room 2 then.
[Bradford walks off, shaking his head. Kleber stares into his drink.]
Kabeta: Don't take it so hard, Michael. I think you're right, that he
shouldn't have behaved that way -- but on the other hand, it worked.
Kleber (looking up): I know. But what if it hadn't?
Kabeta: I keep asking myself that about the hippo maneuver. [They both
smile slightly at the mention.] But it did work. We won.
[Kleber nods slowly.]
Kabeta: I also wanted to thank you for not letting your anger at the Admiral
and at me get in the way of what needed to be done.
Kleber (coldly again): Did you expect less?
Kabeta: No. [Kleber, all at once, smiles, while Kabeta remains quite
serious.] I always expect a lot from you -- and you've never failed
to deliver.
Kleber: Thank you, Captain. I try. [He shuts down the terminal he was sort-
of reading.]
Kabeta: Well, I'd best be off too, I need to go prepare for Mark's departure.
[pause] He did do an awful lot of good around here, too, you know.
Kleber (sighing): I know. [pause] I'll come with you.
[Kabeta looks pleasantly surprised at this change of heart, and they walk out
of the lounge together.]
* * * * * * * * * *
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries.
[Interior, restaurant from before. Crossfire is sitting at the table,
and this time Kabeta comes through the doors and joins him.]
Crossfire: Hello, captain.
Kabeta: Commander.
Crossfire: The _Croutonprize_ leaves in a few hours.
Kabeta [nodding]: Yes.
Crossfire: I thought we should have lunch and say goodbye properly.
[A waiter comes up and brings Crossfire a cup of hot chocolate. A moment of
silence passes.]
Kabeta [opting for the inane]: So what's for lunch? Fajitas?
Crossfire [shaking his head]: The fajitas they make here are woefully unlike
Soraya's. She's got me spoiled.
Kabeta: Speaking of which, are you going to accept that promotion?
Crossfire [shrugging]: I guess so.
Kabeta: You can't just waft around in the command ranks, Crossfire. You've
got to be more decisive.
Crossfire: Then I've *decided* that I *guess* I will take the promotion.
[He bares his teeth in what is more of a threat than a smile.] Is that
*better*, captain?
Kabeta [taken aback]: What's wrong with you, Crossfire? If you don't want
to take the promotion, then don't...
Crossfire [interrupting]: It's not that. A friend of mine died.
Kabeta [closes her eyes]: Someone else? Besides Chris, I mean?
Crossfire [rubbing his eyes]: Besides Crouton, yes. His name was Chris, too.
I've been thinking about what you told me about Morgan being borged...
Once, a long, long time ago, I had to kill my friend too.
Kabeta: This other Chris.
Crossfire: Yes. He was my friend, my only real friend, from the Academy. We
got in alot of trouble together. There was one time when we went out to
New York when we were on leave. Chris got it in his head he wanted to
climb to the top of the Statue of Liberty one night, and I had to...
convince...him that was a bad idea.
Kabeta: You're talking about Chris Orr.
Crossfire: Yeah. Chris Orr.
Kabeta: I knew you two had collaborated on the design of the Crouton Torpedo,
but I never knew what happened to him.
Crossfire: During the Dilemma, he went over to a Borg ship on an away team.
He...they didn't come back. Until later.
Kabeta: Oh.
Crossfire: The Away Team was sent back to the _Nostromo_ during the Battle
of Vulcan as Borg soldiers.
[Crossfire stops speaking and stares into his mug.]
Kabeta: Then you do understand.
[Crossfire nods, still not looking up.]
Kabeta [sitting back in her chair, relaxing all at once]: I thought...nobody
knew what this was like.
Crossfire [still looking down]: *I* do.
[Kabeta reaches over and takes one of Crossfire's hands in her own. Crossfire
looks up, startled.]
Kabeta: I'll make you a deal.
Crossfire: What?
Kabeta: I'll tell you about Anthony, if you tell me about Chris.
[She smiles a little, and Crossfire smiles back.]
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Next time, in the continuation of the "Perfect Game's" post-Game show:
Part 21: "Happy Trails"
The _Croutonprize_ has a new captain...
Ghiasi: I've had enough promotions for one month.
And Avenger is having second-thoughts about his career...
Avenger: What are you complaining about? You're getting the fleet
flagship. I'm getting another desk.
Will he be able to cope with Kabeta's hidden secrets?
Avenger (snapping): I *know* what you meant.
Or will they drive him away?
Avenger (angrily): You will not see me again.
SOMETHING'S AMISS on STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION!
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