[MiSTing] Trouble of Dwarves (4/9)

[pieceoftheuniverse]

[Pan out to see the computer console again, this time with Tom at the
controls -- his right hand taped to the mouse -- and Crow beside him.
Joel comes from stage left]

JOEL: Hey, guys. What are you doing?
CROW: Well, everyone in this story seems to have the uncanny ability to
move faster than the speed of light.
TOM: Right. So we figured that maybe we understood incorrectly, and
phasers actually move much slower than light-speed.
CROW: So we're researching on the internet to see what's going on.
JOEL: And?
TOM: Well, the trouble is that the phaser doesn't actually exist, so
actual technical information is lacking.
CROW: The closest thing we found was that some guy back in '99 found a
way to send a bolt of electricity along a beam of light, which
would, if it were a high enough voltage, knock a person out.
JOEL: Essentially a long-distance taser.
TOM: Yeah, but the acronym LDTASER just isn't close enough to PHASER.
Besides, even taking into account the delay between pointing the
beam and releasing the electricity, it's still pretty close to
light-speed.
CROW: So yet another fanfic author ignores the everyday laws of physics
in favour of the main characters.
JOEL: Well, this -is- Star Trek.
TOM: Yeah, but it was kinda nice holding out a shred of hope for actual
scientific accuracy.
CROW: Now there's almost no point in riffing the whole thing.
JOEL: You know, I -could- erase your memories of doing this research ...
CROW: [hopefully] Would you?
TOM: Please?

[Alarms, lights, general panic]

JOEL: Maybe later, guys. Right now we've got Fanfic Sign!

[ ... 6 ... 5 ... 4 ... 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... ]

[As they're filing in ... ]

CROW: Wait a minute. If you can erase our memories, then how come I
still remember "Manos"?
TOM: Or any of the other movies, for that matter?
JOEL: There must be something wrong with the MST3k Reset Button. I'll
look into it.

>
>
>
>95 minutes later

TOM: Not an hour and a half, not ninety-six minutes; it's ninety-five,
dammit!

>Winston slewed Voyager around the back of the anomaly,

CROW: "Slewed"?
JOEL: It's better than skidding across a vacuum, but only just.

>pitched Voyager up and dived straight among the ships that surrounded
>it, before bringing her to a dead halt beside a hulk.

TOM: Your friendly neighborhood galactic junkyard! Visit today!
CROW: If they find Neelix -- again -- I'm committing sebuku.

>"Where did you learn to fly like that?" Chakotay asked,

JOEL: [Chakotay] And when do you plan on doing that again? I've got
insurance premiums to pay on this thing.

>impressed at the level of skill displayed.

TOM: Or scared for his life. Po-tate-o, Po-TAT-o.

>"I was a taxi driver in New York before I joined Star Fleet, Sir,"
>Winston admitted.

CROW: You mean in the future, when everyone uses a transporter to move
three feet away and shuttlecraft are as plentiful as blades of
grass in a park? -Sure- you were.

>Still bemused by the Ensigns actions,

JOEL: [Chakotay] Ha, ha. Cute kid.
TOM: [Chakotay] I'll have to remember to kill him later.

>Chakotay turned on Ensign Kala.

CROW: Wow; bemused to ticked off in one point six seconds.

>"What else is there here that we can use?"

JOEL: There?
TOM: Here!
CROW: Here?
JOEL: There!

>Kala bent to her sensors, then stood up sharply.

TOM: [Kala] I found your acting ability, sir! It's small, but undamaged!

>"There is another Federation vessel, Captain!

CROW: Oh, of -course- there is. Way out on the fringes of nowhere in
particular, right when you need it.
JOEL: You know, we should start playing Plot Contrivance Bingo. [passes
out cards]
TOM: So this one is Plot Contrivance #931?
JOEL: That's right.
TOM: Got it!
CROW: So can we mark the cards retroactively to what we've already read,
or does it only count from here on out?
JOEL: Just from here on.
CROW: Dang. I would have had bingo with just two more contrivances.

>I've picked up the beacon. It appears undamaged."

TOM: And there's another one.

>Incredulously

CROW: Ah, the author finally realizes that harsh reality isn't so
convenient.
JOEL: Enjoy it. I don't think it'll last much longer.

>Chakotay span on her.

TOM: [Chakotay] Wheeeee!
CROW: Making the Captain's chair spin turned out to be an unwise move
for ship designers.

>"Where? What is it?"

JOEL: It's a ship. From the Federation. In space.
TOM: Dum-dum.

>"I'm trying to identify it, Captain," she admitted. "Bearing 50.23 range
>1500 kilometres."

CROW: Make plot points even more spectacular by punching in random
digits! It's fun!

>"It is an Excelsior Class," the ensign reported in surprise

TOM: Well, at least it's not Galaxy class.
JOEL: A Voyager/TNG crossover would be almost too much to bear.

>some forty seconds later as the computer finally tracked the signal.

CROW: I don't think it's the computer that's slow. Everyone else at that
console is able to identify just about anything instantaneously.

>"USS Argonaut, lost 56 years ago. That would make her an early model, Sir!"

TOM: Or, at the very least, fifty-six years old.

>"I remember those, Sir," Winston commented reminiscently. "Good shields
>and phasors, handled like a sack of potatoes."

JOEL: So you had to put the ship over your shoulders and lug it
everywhere?
CROW: At least that explains his piloting technique.

>Chakotay looked at him quizzically.

TOM: [Chakotay] When was the Battle of Gettysburg? What's the capital of
Vermont? Who was the first person in Starfleet? How many coins do I
have in my pocket?

>"I served on one as a Conn Officer," Winston admitted.

CROW: So Winston is fifty-six years old?
JOEL: Well, he was probably twenty when he first served, so more like
seventy-six.
CROW: And yet still an ensign.
TOM: Robots and humanoid, meet Harry Kim in fifty years.

>"Could you still fly one?" Chakotay asked quickly. A germ of an idea
>forming.

TOM: "A germ of an idea"?
JOEL: Well, he gets ideas so infrequently, his body fights them like
infections.

>"I will remember, Sir!" Winston responded after a moments hesitation.

CROW: [Winston] Even if it means submitting myself to hours of grueling
torture, I'll make myself remember!

>More of the Colonel's training, Chakotay reflected with a grin.

TOM: Chakotay, we're not going to tell you again: put the mirror away!

>He did not like terms like 'I think' and 'No', they did not exist.

JOEL: So the Colonel can't say no?
CROW: Joel, I'm ... I'm so proud.
JOEL: Erm ... uh ... *Joel*!
JOEL: What? What'd I say?
JOEL: You know! No RAMchips for a month!
JOEL: Damn.
CROW: That was really creepy, Joel.
BOTH JOELS: Thank you.

>He reached for his communicator. "Chakotay to B'Elanna. Report to
>the Bridge."
>
>"Kala put the Argonaut on screen," he added quickly.

TOM: The "Argonaut"? If it's captain is a guy named "Jason," I'm out of
here.

>Behind him the lift door opened and two figures stepped out.

CROW: They were the new Star Trek action figures, with phaser-firing
action and realistic death throes!
JOEL: [quickly] Expendable Crewman action figures do not actually die.

>"Ensigns Carver and Abbott, requesting permission to return to duty, Sir!"
>
>"What are you two doing here?" Chakotay exploded

TOM: ... taking Voyager with him.
ALL: Hooray!
CROW: I'll never get tired of that.

>in surprise spinning

TOM: [Chakotay] Wheeeee!
JOEL: I think we've hit our "riff repeat" quota, guys.
BOTS: Awwww...

>on the two junior officers. "You," he pointed at the still pale Carver.

CROW: "Pale Carver." I wonder if that's supposed to be an allusion to
something.
TOM: Foreshadowing? On two-dimensional characters? Not likely.

>"Were at deaths door a few hours ago! Get back to sickbay!"

JOEL: [Carver] We're main characters, sir. We're too -cute- to die.

>The two of them stood firm at Chakotay's seeming fury. "Most of Beta and
>Gamma shifts are in sickbay, Sir!

TOM: [Carver] We were the only ones to escape! The Doctor's holding the
others prisoner, mumbling something about needing patients!

>Those that aren't are hunting dwarves,"

CROW: s/hunting/tossing/
JOEL: Hey! What did I say about riff repeats?
TOM: Still, you have to admit: it does scan better that way.

>Carver protested. "Ensign Abbott's injuries are not severe and mine only
>restrict movement!

TOM: Translation: Abbott is still bleeding, and Carver can't feel his
legs.
CROW: Neat trick him walking out of the turbolift, then.
TOM: Twenty-fourth century technology can do anything.
JOEL: ... but cure male-pattern baldness.

>We wish to return to active duty."

CROW: As active as standing around pushing buttons, anyway.

>Behind them B'Elanna appeared

ALL: [sfx] *poof*

>and stared in surprise at the two walking injuries.

TOM: [B'Elanna] You ... you look just like a gaping head wound! And you;
you look like a sprained ankle!

>"The Doctor is looking for you

JOEL: Naturally, leaving all the unnamed crewmembers with near-fatal
injuries to their own devices.

>and he isn't in a good mood. You ran out on him," she commented wryly.

CROW: [B'Elanna] Crazy kids, always running around with their painful
medical conditions and interrupting their own operations.

>"Still you did a good job on the distribution node, Ensign."

TOM: [B'Elanna] For an amateur I kicked out of my department, anyway.

>With that she turned on Chakotay. "I have engineering crews crawling over
>the whole of Engineering.

JOEL: [Chakotay] B'Elanna, how many times do I have to remind you not to
break legs?

>I'm needed there.

TOM: So needed, in fact, that she dropped whatever she was doing and
came running at his call.

>This had better be good?" B'Elanna snapped.

CROW: So far? No, not really.

>Distracted Chakotay waved at the view screen.

JOEL: [Neanderthal] Big picture on wall. Pretty.

>"How quickly could you get that up and working?" He asked.

TOM: Wow, so now God is asking the questions?
CROW: It's probably our plaintive cries of "why, God, why" that caught
his attention.

>B'Elanna examined the Argonaut critically for a few minutes.

JOEL: Because, of course, just looking at a ship you can tell how much
work it needs.

>"With a full engineering crew, three days," she decided.

TOM: But ... but she didn't scan it or -anything-!
CROW: Not only is everyone blessed with super-speed, but their psychic
abilities are top-notch.

>"I need it in ten hours."

JOEL: Starfleet Command Personnel: asking the impossible since Stardate
3411.2.

>"Can't be done. We would have to examine the injectors and coil before
>we let anti-matter near them.

TOM: If things aren't put *just right*, the antimatter will pout and
make a mess of the place.
CROW: For "explosive" values of "mess" and "pout," that is.

>Then there is the computer to restart and the cross linking," B'Elanna
>opined.

JOEL: Cross linking with what, exactly?
CROW: It's like a web page; all the links are outdated, so you have to
find them all over again.

>"What if we were to take Corporal Miller with us, Sir?"

TOM: Corporal who?
JOEL: Another one of Ray-Ray's creations, I bet.
TOM: But there are no Corporals in Starfleet!

>Carver suggested. "He could handle the computer and reworking of the
>control linkings!"

CROW: So wherever this guy came from, it included special training in
Starfleet technical procedures?
TOM: What special training? "Wave -this- device if it looks broken; wave
-this- device if it's shattered."

>"I can burnish the injectors clean of corrosion," Abbott volunteered,
>surprising herself and everybody else on the bridge. They all turned to
>look at her.

JOEL: [Abbott] Don't look at me! I'm not here! I'm the invisible woman!

>"The coatings on the injectors on older ships were a lot thicker than
>now," she explained, blushing furiously. "And Colonel Samuels

TOM: Ah, so the mysterious "Colonel" gains a last name.
CROW: Assuming it's the same guy.

>made me some tools for polishing specimens.

JOEL: Specimens of what? Old starship injectors?
TOM: They -did- say that the Colonel was well-prepared ...
JOEL: Either that, or Abbott has collecting habits we don't want to know
about.

>They can be used there."
>
>Chakotay turned a quizzical eye to B'Elanna, "I think you have a crew,"
>he said simply.

CROW: "Simply" defines Chakotay, alright.

>"Winston, Abbott and Corporal Miller. Get the Doctors emitter off of him."

TOM: Erm, why?
JOEL: I hate coming into the middle of a storyline.
CROW: I like coming out of them, though.
JOEL: Yes. Coming out of them is particularly enjoyable.

>"Did you hear that Corporal?" Chakotay asked loudly.

TOM: So the Corporal is deaf?

>"That is satisfactory?"
>
>"Captain Janeway is not present, Sir!" Miller responded.

CROW: Responded from where, exactly?

>"I need permission from the Senior British Officer?"

JOEL: British references again. Do you think it means anything?
TOM: That the writer is British?
CROW: So why bother Voyager? He has Blake's Seven and Red Dwarf to
entertain him.
JOEL: Would you -really- want to see a Blake's Seven fanfic? Or a Red
Dwarf?
TOM: Or worse, a Blake's Seven/Red Dwarf crossover fanfic?
[All shudder in horror]

>"He isn't here either, and he won't have the opportunity unless you
>help," Chakotay snapped.
>
>There was silence.

CROW: Oh, good. Let that continue for the rest of the 'fic, please.

>"If you're gonna clear it with the Colonel afterwards, Sir?" Miller
>asked uncertainly.

TOM: So who outranks who here, exactly?
JOEL: Tough call. From what I remember, the British Royal Navy has
admirals, captains, and lieutenants the same as the U.S. army, but
with a few extra positions thrown in pretty much at random.
CROW: But the U.S. seceded from the British. Shouldn't you be saying
that the U.S. army got rid of random positions?
JOEL: American egotism. It's practically a law.
TOM: And the answer to my question is ... ?
JOEL: Oh. Um ... let's just satisfy our desire, and say that the Colonel
outranks Chakotay.
ALL: Hurrah!

>Chakotay had never heard of a nervous computer before.

CROW: So the Corporal is a computer?
JOEL: [gasp] Oh my god ... they killed Majel Barret.
TOM: Great. So who's going to fund the _Andromeda_ series now?

>"I'll take anything he throws at you," he promised, keeping a straight face.

CROW: Here's hoping the Colonel throws bullets.

>"Sir!"

TOM: So is that a "yes" or a "no"?

>With a sigh of relief Chakotay turned back to B'Elanna. "How quickly can
>you get ready?"
>
>"Twenty minutes," she declared.

JOEL: There's that twenty minutes again. It took twenty minutes for the
security team to get to Chakotay in Sickbay --
CROW: -- for no readily defined reason --
JOEL: -- and now it takes B'Elanna twenty minutes to get ready for an
away mission. Coincidence?
TOM: ... or is it? Find out today, on Mysterious Mysteries!

>She turned and headed for the lift again, rapidly joined by Ensigns Abbott
>and Winston.

CROW: Abbott and Winston never really had the success that Abbott and
Costello did.
TOM: Plus the constant change from "Abbott" to "Abott" confused the
fans.
JOEL: Their "Where's First Base?" sketch never really panned out,
either.

>"Kala, take Ops. Carver, take tactical," Chakotay sighed in defeat

TOM: Defeat? Didn't he just reduce three days to ten hours?

>and resuming his seat.

JOEL: Should we?
CROW: Sure. Why not?
ALL: Nap time!

>
>
>
>
>Twenty-five minutes later the small party, fortified by Ensign Samantha
>Wildman

CROW: Is that anything like my breakfast cereal being fortified by
vitamins and minerals?
JOEL: Yes.

>beamed to the Argonaut. Miller still trying to come to terms with his new
>found movement.

TOM: So the Corporal has apparently taken over Majel Barret's role ...
-and- has a body?
CROW: Sounds like we crossed over with _Andromeda_ when we weren't
looking.

>The Doctor had been less than impressed at the idea of giving his mobile
>emitter to his resident holographic rival.

TOM: So there's a rivalry now?
JOEL: Yeah. It launches into a huge holographic blood feud later on.
TOM: Are there banjos involved?
JOEL: Yes.
TOM: Cool!

>In the end B'Elanna had simply snatched the device away from him and
>forcibly downloaded the doctor back to the computer, vacating the small
>device for the Corporal.

CROW: So if she just pulled it off of him while he was using the
emitter, shouldn't he have disappeared?

>She had some sympathy for the doctor.

JOEL: No. No, she doesn't.

>His movement was going to be severely limited,

TOM: Hey -- wait a minute! The doctor was supposed to tour the ship,
looking for injured crewmembers!
CROW: Ah, none of them have names anyway. They can't be very important.

>but he could become severely non-existent if Voyager was badly damaged.

TOM: Oooo, could we extend that to fanfic writers?
JOEL: Which: the damage or the non-existance?
TOM: I'm not picky.

>She would need the Corporal to get the Argonaut operating.

CROW: Says who?
JOEL: Plot Contrivance #629.
TOM: I've got that one!

>"I'll get the Bridge operating," Winston volunteered quickly.

JOEL: I thought it was established that there was no power on board.
TOM: In that case, bridge operations should be the least of their
problems.
JOEL: Oh?
TOM: Breathing might come in handy, if life support is down.

>"B'Elanna nodded and turned for Engineering. "I'll join you as soon as
>possible," she called over her shoulder.

CROW: What possible reason could she have for being on the bridge?
JOEL: You mean aside from the fact that she's the only commanding
officer on the ship?

>Winston's first thought on reaching Argonaut's bridge was surprise at
>the lack of damage.

TOM: He was, however, disappointed to find that the Captain's porn
collection had gone missing.

>Whatever had happened here, it was quick.

JOEL: Of course, the trail was fifty-six years old, so "quick" is a
relative term.

>The chamber was only dimly lit, its emergency lighting turning
>everything it touched a blood-soaked red.

CROW: No, the walls really -are- soaked in blood. The lights are fine.

>In spite of the dim, somewhat intimidating atmosphere, it didn't take
>him long to realise that there were far too few of the shadowy shapes
>that were all that remained after someone was hit by a disrupter set to
>full power.

TOM: He should spend less time looking at the decor and more time
working.

>He could only see five such shadows, meaning that at least half of the
>crew usually assigned to an Excelsior class ship's bridge hadn't been
>killed when their shipmates could have lost their lives.

JOEL: Morbid little guy, isn't he?

>It took him only a moment to find the data port on the captain's chair

CROW: Oh, great; the captains of Starfleet have internet access.
TOM: That explains so much.

>and connect the holo-emitter that contained Corporal Miller's programs
>to it.

JOEL: He connected the emitter to the programs?
TOM: The programs to the port?

>Networking technology had improved greatly over the last half
>century and it would take a few minutes for the corporal to download
>himself into Argonaut's mainframe.

CROW: [Corporal] Wheee! I'm free!

>A process that could only begin when B'Elanna Paris brought the ship to
>full power.

TOM: Plug in, sit back, look at porn.
JOEL: It's gone, remember?
TOM: Right. Time's going to pass rather slowly, then.

>For the moment, there was nothing to do but hack the ship's logs to see
>how many of the wrecks that surrounded Argonaut had been there when she
>had been shut down.

CROW: So the lack of power has nothing to do with the other computer
systems?
TOM: They're running off of the UPS.
CROW: For fifty-six years?

>"Ms. Abbott," he said softly, taking the centre seat as he did so.

JOEL: Is he giving the console a name already?

>"Sir?" she inquired, stepping quickly to his side.

ALL: [sfx] Boing!

>"I want you to have a look at the ship's computers.

TOM: [Abbott] It's right in front of you, sir.
CROW: [Abbott] And the thing you're sitting on is a chair, sir.

>Try to find out what ships were here when they shut Argonaut down and
>compare that list with Voyager's current scan.

JOEL: Of course, the power's off, so you're going to have to be psychic.

>After that, we can figure out how to use what we've got to our best
>advantage."

TOM: And how will that information help any?
JOEL: It won't, but it'll keep her busy.

>"Can't Voyager's sensors do a better job of cataloguing what's here with
>us?" Abbott asked, fear in her voice.

CROW: [Abbott] But mommy, I don't wanna touch the computer!

>"Normally, yes," Winston said. "But with the effects of the magnetic
>flux, its not certain that her sensors will be any more effective at all
>ranges.

TOM: Apparently their sensors run off of magnets.

>Lieutenant Paris said something about distortion,

JOEL: [Winston] ... but I wasn't really paying attention. She's a
windbag anyway.

>which is why The Captain moved us so close to Argonaut before we
>beamed over.

CROW: [Winston] Of course, it would have been safer to take a shuttle,
but he's hoping to kill us all off.

>Since we're inside the effect, we can take scans without being as
>badly affected by the anomaly's magnetic flux."

TOM: Ray-ray's never used a compass before, has he?

>"That makes sense, " Abbott admitted.

JOEL: [valley girl] I have -no- idea what you just said. Like, totally.

>"But I don't have much experience with breaking into a computer that
>doesn't want me there,"

TOM: Especially one WITHOUT POWER!

>she whispered, obviously afraid of failing to complete what Winston
>thought of as a fairly simple task.

CROW: So why doesn't -he- do it?
JOEL: He's still looking around for the Captain's porn.

>"It shouldn't be that hard," he encouraged.

CROW: I'm not touching that one.

>"Captain Chakotay should be able to give you this ship's prefix codes.
>The computers should be open to you once you've got them."

TOM: Nothing like a back door to make a hacker's dream come true.

>"I'll get on it right away," she said, obviously glad that she wouldn't
>have to do anything that would tax training that she obviously didn't
>have the confidence to use.

JOEL: Heaven forfend she actually build confidence.
CROW: Or develop as a character.

>Winston wondered how she had ever managed to pass the academy's psychology
>profile.

TOM: Not that it really mattered, them being seventy thousand
light-years from the academy.
CROW: And that half the crew is made up of former Maqui.

>It was intended to weed out applicants who didn't have a good deal of
>self confidence. After all, if you weren't sure of yourself and your
>decisions, you might hesitate at a critical moment.

JOEL: Of course, the creation of "commanding officers" and "orders" were
for just such a purpose.
CROW: Don't bother. Ray-ray's only been at the top.
TOM: Of what? The bad story food chain?

>A hesitation that could kill.

CROW: Fortunately, the Red Shirt Academy was just down the street.

>It was up to the academy to teach you when to think and when simply to
>react.

TOM: No one in Starfleet could do both at the same time.
JOEL: Are you kidding? These folks can barely do -one- thing at a time.

>Only those who learned how to react, gained their own commands.

CROW: No thinking allowed in command positions. That explains so much.

>The Colonel had riveted the two together with the force of a super nova.

JOEL: Rivet: to push inward, through an object, binding together.
TOM: Nova: an explosion with the force to tear a star apart.
JOEL: Sure, I see the similarity.
TOM: Okay, time to take you to a doctor.

>Forcing him to think and react faster and in unison with and for others,
>silently and predictively carrying out the orders that would come as
>circumstances changed.

CROW: Unfortunately, Ray-ray had never had the same lesson.

>He had been close to becoming the captain of a starship once,

TOM: ... but Janeway had dodged the phaser blast.

>and he was honoured that Captain Chakotay had trusted him enough to
>give him command of Argonaut now.

JOEL: If his first name is Jason, I'm jumping ship.

>Now it was time to see how those ideas worked.

CROW: I predict a critical plot device will thwart his plans, throwing
the ship into chaos only to be resolved at the last minute.
TOM: You've just described every Star Trek episode ever created.

>His musings were interrupted by Paris' obviously pleased voice.

JOEL: [B'Elanna] Musing over your power, Adolf?
CROW: Everyone's power-crazy.

>"Paris to bridge,"
>
>"Bridge, Winston here."
>
>"The mains are ready to go, Captain," the engineer told him.

TOM: Suddenly they're on a sailing vessel?
JOEL: Doesn't matter; they'll still get home in seven years.

>"Well, what are you waiting for?" Winston demanded.

CROW: Boy, put him in command for two seconds and already he's Chakotay.
JOEL: Ooo, low blow.

>"Your permission to light her up," Paris snapped, her Klingon temper
>flaring.

TOM: You could light it up with that flame from your skull.

>"After all, there's about a twenty percent chance that when I start this
>old bird up, her warp core will breach.

CROW: Little things like "safety protocols" never entered her mind?

>Needless to say, I thought that you might want to be prepared."
>
>"I see," Winston replied,

JOEL: [Winston] I'm in an escape pod now. See ya, suckers!

>barely noticing Abbott's sudden pallor.

TOM: [Winston] Buck up, Abbott. If it blows, you'll be dead before you
know it.

>"Well, let's have at it, then."

CROW: Is it wrong for me to pray for death?
JOEL: Depends. Yours, theirs, or Ray-ray's?
CROW: At this point, I don't think it matters.

>"OK," Paris rejoined.

TOM: [B'Elanna] Now where did I put that ignition switch?

>"Mains on line in five, four, three, two, one...."
>
>Moments later, the ship's main lights snapped on, bathing everything in
>the off-white glow that Winston associated with Starfleet ships.

JOEL: Shortly afterwards, the glow turned into an explosion.
CROW: We can only hope.

>The artificial gravity, which had been at only a third of standard

TOM: That sounds like fun! Can we do that, Joel?
JOEL: If it'll keep you two from jumping on the bed, sure.

>quickly ramped up and he found himself settling into the captain's
>chair, his apparent weight now what he was used to.

CROW: Ten seconds later he was a puddle of goo in the chair, as gravity
had upped another couple notches.
JOEL: That's dark, Crow.
CROW: Oh, so you're allowed to talk about the ship exploding, but I
can't kill off one crewman?
JOEL: Well ... okay. I'll give you a freebie.

>Though he had not been overly uncomfortable in the ship's low-powered
>environment,

TOM: What exactly is uncomfortable about low gravity?
JOEL: Hitting your head on the ceiling after every step is the only
thing that comes to mind.

>he immediately saw that the brighter light and stronger gravity had done much
>to comfort the mousy woman

ALL: She's not a mouse! She's a groundhog!

>with whom he shared Argonaut's bridge.
>
>"Winston to Voyager," he barked,

CROW: Arf! Arf!
JOEL: What is it, boy? Voyager's trapped in a well?
CROW: Arf! Arf! Arf!

>the pleasure of an increasingly functional command filtering through in every
>word and action.

TOM: [Winston/Jafar] The *power*! The unbelievable POWER!!

>"Voyager, Chakotay,"

JOEL: ... Paris, Tuvok, Abbott ... we -know- the cast already, thank
you.

>"Lieutenant Paris has re-established main power Captain,

CROW: Power to the Captain!
TOM: I'd prefer a live electrical node applied to the Captain, if it's
all the same to you.

>and we're now moving to have a look at weapons and other systems.

JOEL: But communications booted up straight away, of course.
TOM: That's Plot Contrivance #625, isn't it?
JOEL: Not really. They could be using their badge communicators.
TOM: Dang.

>I'm going to have Ms. Abbott scan the ships out here for raw materials
>and such.

CROW: So how did he get to be in charge? B'Elanna's the highest ranking
officer on-board, isn't she?
TOM: For some strange, unknown reason, Chakotay put him in as commander
of the vessel.
JOEL: To be fair, though, we don't really know his rank. He was
introduced as "Winston," with little or no other identifying
remarks.
TOM: Well, he's a Conn officer, right? Aren't those always ensigns?
JOEL: Data was a Conn officer, and he was a lieutenant commander.
TOM: Oh, don't bring Pinocchio into this ...
CROW: An insult to droids everywhere, that one.
TOM: Besides that, the command structure in Starfleet is incredibly
simplistic. It goes: Ensign, Lieutenant, Lieutenant Commander,
Commander, Captain, Admiral. All heads of departments are
Lieutenant Commanders, and there is only one Commander per ship,
and she or he gets to be first officer. So B'Elanna is a Lieutenant
Commander, and Winston can't be any higher than that without
replacing Chakotay.
JOEL: So then B'Elanna and Winston are the same rank?
TOM: That's the only way I can reason it without my head exploding.
JOEL: Oh, wait a minute; I just remembered that they -did- specify rank,
last segment.
CROW: And?
JOEL: He's an ensign.

[Tom's head starts to smoke again, and his body shudders]

CROW: He's going to blow!
JOEL: [pats Tom on the shoulder] Remember, Tom: mortal minds. Don't try
to understand it; just let the nonsense flow right over you.
Remember the relaxation techniques I taught you?
TOM: [as the smoke begins to dissipate] I am a stone in a mountain
stream. The babbling river of fanfic writers is as nothing to me,
as I need take no notice...
JOEL: That's it. Feeling better?

[Tom whimpers]

>We may be able to pick up some things that we can use here, or on Voyager.

CROW: Oh, look, a plot hole! We could use another one of those!
JOEL: Hey, a technobabble dictionary! Beam it aboard!
TOM: And isn't that a convenient time-travel portal to the early
twenty-first century? Let's go through it!

>In any case, it'll help to know what materials these ships are made
>of should we need to blow any of them up."

JOEL: We've said it before, and we'll say it again: they're all a bunch
of trigger-happy madmen.

>"Argonaut, can you repeat that last?"

ALL: "Trigger-happy madmen."

>"You heard me right, sir." Winston confirmed.
>
>"Since those Kommodan ships use contained plasma weapons as their main
>offensive armament, we would be best to have a field of rubble here as
>they can't shoot through it without wasting their shots on the debris
>field.

TOM: Okay, so who's explaining what to who here?
JOEL: Well, a paragraph break usually denotes a change in the character
talking. So this must be Chakotay.

>Our phasers will just shrug off anything that's in their way, if we chop
>up what's in here enough."

CROW: So their big plan is to create a rubble field, and then clear a
path for their enemies?
TOM: Right.
CROW: And they don't see a problem with this?

>"I see," Chakotay said after a moment.

JOEL: I doubt that.
TOM: Wait a minute! Why would he be saying "I see" after he explained
it?
JOEL: Oh. That must have been Winston talking, then.
TOM: Which part? The "I see" or the rubble field idiocy?
JOEL: I'm not sure. Let's say "yes" to both, and let Ray-Ray sort it out
later.
TOM: If my head explodes, I'm taking you with me.

>"So if we destroy some of these old wrecks we'll have a tactical advantage
>against the Kommodans. What about the Borg?"

CROW: The Borg also have a tactical advantage against the toilets.
JOEL: I don't think that's what he meant.
CROW: I just want the Borg to assimilate the Kommodans already.

>"The rubble should also make it harder for the Borg to hook on to our
>ships with their tractor beams, Captain.

TOM: Won't the rubble also impact on the ships, including Voyager and
the Argonaut?
CROW: And if we're really lucky, most of the impacts will be on the
bridges of both ships.

>Those cutting beams will be a problem because Argonaut's shields won't hold
>against them. Ultimately, it may be best to have Voyager in the rubble field,

JOEL: Ah, another brilliant plan. Put the weakest ship out in the open,
while the stronger ship gets pummelled to death by large rocks.
CROW: So far, I don't have any objections.

>but I'd ask that we hold off on talking about that until I'm a bit clearer
>on what we'll be able to do with this ship."

TOM: I'd love to get clear on what a Federation starship is doing there
in the first place.
CROW: Or maybe why they don't just take over -all- the ships in the
junkyard and meet the toilet-heads with an armada.
JOEL: Personnel might be a problem with that approach, though.
CROW: But three ships are better than two, and four are better than
three, and so on. Spread the ranks a little thin, sure, but it
might be worth it.
TOM: After all, they're putting a ship together with four lousy
crewmembers! And there are hundreds on Voyager.

>"Sounds reasonable, though I would like it if you could tell me why you
>think Argonaut's shields won't hold well against the Borg's weapons,"
>Chakotay said dryly.
>
>"After All, I'd hoped not to be sending you on a near-suicide mission."

JOEL: But Winston didn't send Chakotay ... oh. Ray-Ray did it again.
TOM: Along with a thesaurus, a copy of Shrunk & White might not be a bad
investment, either.

>"Argonaut was launched before the particular shield-to-computer
>interface that we use now was invented.

CROW: So then how did shields operate back then? By hand?!
JOEL: [Kirk] Scotty, I need those shields!
TOM: [Scotty] I'm crankin' the winch as hard as I can, Cap'n!

>Hopefully Corporal Miller can help us figure out a way to modulate
>her shields enough to be useful, but if not, I've got a couple of ideas.

CROW: Take your pick: plot holes or contrivances?
TOM: I'd prefer contrivances. I'm two away from getting Bingo.

>I'll need to talk them over with Ms. Paris before I bring them to you."

JOEL: "Ms. Paris"? If she's married, wouldn't it be "Mrs"?
TOM: And if she's not, then it should be "Torres."
CROW: Unless there's some kind of incestuous relationship they didn't
realize until recently.
JOEL: [Janeway/Darth Vader] B'Elanna, I am your mother.
TOM: [B'Elanna] Noooooo! It's not true! That's impossible!
JOEL: Search your genealogy; you know it to be true!
TOM: Noooooo!
JOEL: And ... your husband is your brother!
CROW: Watch "Redneck Star Trek," next on UPN!

>"Very good," Chakotay acceded. "Just make sure that they work."

TOM: Even if they don't work, I'm sure every one of the named characters
will be just fine.

>"That's my goal, sir." Winston rejoined lightly. "After all, it'd be
>rather unpleasant to be over here if we don't.

JOEL: Nah; not unless you let a little thing like death ruin your day.

>For the moment, I'd better get back to work on figuring out the
>differences between this ship and the Excelsior Class ships I served
>on."
>
>"Differences?"
>
>"Yes, Sir! Differences.

CROW: Differences?
JOEL: Differences!
TOM: Disparities!
CROW: Disillusions!
JOEL: Dissemblances!
TOM: Divergences!
CROW: Distinctions!
JOEL: Dissidence!
TOM: You know; differences!

>This ship is old and was shut down more than fifty years ago.

TOM: How on Io does he know -that-?
JOEL: Well, the ship is fifty-six years old, and ... well, he guessed.

>The technology's out of date and a lot of it'll never work because of lack
>of maintenance, Sir!"

CROW: With any luck, that list will include shields, weapons, and life
support.

>Winston replied. "But the important systems shouldn't be too hard to fix,
>or at least that's what Ms. Paris tells me."

TOM: And your words for today are: Born. There. Is. Every. Sucker.
Minute. A.
JOEL: Assemble in any manner you choose.

>"Right," Chakotay murmured, obviously displeased that Winston and Paris
>had understated Argonaut's possible problems when they had suggested
>trying to revive the old starship.

CROW: Well, maybe next time you'll actually let them *scan the ship
first*!
JOEL: Besides that, I believe the phrase "three days to fix" was tossed
around quite a bit as an original estimate, so he's really got no
room to complain.

>"Don't worry about it too much, Sir." Winston encouraged. "After all,

TOM: [Winston] ... this story's being written by a fan, and I'm one of
his creations! We can't lose!
CROW: Unless, of course, if Ray-Ray's one of those dark, depressed
writers like Edgar Allen Poe, in which case we'll get to see
Winston get slowly tormented and driven into excruciating mental
anguish until he launches himself out of the nearest airlock.

[All sigh, imagining it]

JOEL: Thanks, Crow. I needed that.

>I've had instruction from the master of invention.

CROW: Necessity?
JOEL: That's the -mother- of invention.
CROW: So who's been boinking Necessity?

>Now's time to see if the Colonel's lessons have actually stuck."

BOTS: Ewwwwwwwww!
TOM: Thanks, Crow; thanks a lot. Now I've got a horrible, horrible image
in my head!
CROW: I'm sorry! It's in my head, too, and it won't get out!
JOEL: But we don't even know what Necessity looks like, and the Colonel
hasn't really appeared all that much for us to get a clear picture
of him!
TOM: Joel, think: the Colonel is charismatic, great at everything, can't
go wrong, and has single-handedly trained what Ray-Ray wants us to
believe is a top-notch team.
CROW: Which, on Voyager, wouldn't be all that much, but still.
TOM: He's got every indication of ... of ... a self-insert.
JOEL: Ewwwwwwwwww!
CROW: I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

>"From what I've seen over here, they have."

TOM: Yeah, letting the dwarves in was ... was ... oh, I can't do it,
Joel!
CROW: Me either! I need this image out of my mind! I can't concentrate!
JOEL: You two have got a point. Come on, let's get out of here.

>Chakotay replied. "If they hadn't, I'd have sent someone else over to
>command that old rust-bucket."

[Joel picks up Tom, and they file out of the theatre]

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