MiSTing: "Hail to the Queen" [PG, STNG, Marrissa] (3/9]

[Matthew R Blackwell]

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

[Mike, Tom, and Crow stand behind the control console. All
three look rather glum. Stereotypical movie crew union people
drinking coffee and eating danishes lounge around the trio.]

Mike: [Sigh] Things just aren't the same up here without Gypsy.
Crow: [Sigh] Yeah, the bridge seems more crowded somehow.
Tom:[Sputtering] Of course it's more crowded! We're surrounded
by union thugs!
Shop Steward: Hey, our contract specifically states that we
are to be referred to as "union hooligans" not thugs.
Mike: Whatever.
Tom: Where did those danishes come from?
Shop Steward: Catered. We'd offer you one, but only dues paying
members get them.
Crow: Blast.
Mike: Look, this is silly. I'm going to call Herb and see if we
can get Gypsy back here.
[Mike hits the view screen button.]
Mike: Hey Herb! Herb!

[Studio]
[Herb is reading some papers. Pearl is nowhere to be seen.]
Herb: Oh, hi Mike. I was looking through your Arbitron numbers.
They've been pretty good.

[SoL]
Mike: Yeah, that's great Herb. . .
[Crow darts in front of Mike.]
Crow: What's our share?
[Mike pushes Crow aside.]
Mike: Look, we don't want these union guys aboard. [Turns] No
offense guys.
Shop Steward: None taken.
Mike: We just want Gypsy back. Send her back up, okay?

[Studio]
Herb: No can do, Mikey. She's already working on "Jenny" as
Jenny's wacky neighbor. Anyway, I've come up with an even
better companion for you. She's on her way now.

[SoL]
Tom: We don't want a better companion! We want Gypsy!
Crow: Well, let's not be hasty here. . .

[Studio]
Herb: Whoops. Gotta run. I'm doing lunch with Kevin Bacon. You
can thank me later. Toodles Mike.

[SoL]
Mike: Great.
Crow: This sucks.
Tom: Well, let's just make the best of this then. I'm going to
get one of those danish. . .

[Suddenly, the Satellite is rocked, Star Trek style, by
explosions. The union crew scatters.]
Tom: What the?
Crow: It's not me! I'm not scheduled to buffet the ship with
explosions for another few days!
Mike: Cambot! Give me rocket #9!

[The scene shifts to the outside of the Satellite of Love. A
Borg Cube is hanging, motionless, just outside the SoL. It
appears to be firing on the SoL.]

Crow: Mike! It's the Borg! They're out to get us!
[A transporter effect begins behind the trio. A humanoid figure
begins to materialize.]
Tom: Look! They're sending a boarding crew aboard! You've got
to stop them, Mike!
Mike: We have no weapons! What do you want me to do? Wave my
hand and say "Borg begone now!"
[Mike waves one of his hands and places the other on the
control console. Suddenly, the scene shifts outside. The Borg
cube is struck by a massive bolt of energy. The cube then
explodes in a gigantic fireball, which is sure to have used up
all of the special effect money for season 9 and 10.]
[Back on the Bridge, Tom and Crow stare at Mike, who stands
there sheepishly.]
Tom: Mike Nelson, Destroyer of Worlds strikes again.
Crow: We stand humbled in your presence, Oh Mighty One!
Mike: Knock it off you two. I'm sure that there's some rational
explanation for this.
[Mike begins to examine the console. Meanwhile, the humanoid
figure behind Mike finishes materializing. It's a Borg. A
female Borg, who begins to walk intently towards Mike and the
bots, who are unaware of her presence.]
Mike: [Staring at the console] Look! The nanites added an
"Anti-Borg ray" to the control console when we weren't
looking. Say, there's an "Anti- Shadows " ray too. And an
"Anti-Team Knight Rider" ray . . .
[The Borg drone is now mere feet away from the trio, who now
look up and see her.]
Tom: AHHHH!
Crow: Hey look! A Borg boarding party! You don't see many of
those around here.
Mike: [Hesitantly] What do you want?
Borg: We. Can. No. Longer. Hear. The. Collective. What. Has.
Been. Done?
Mike: Well, uh, I. . .
Tom: Mike blew up your pathetic little cube!
Crow: Yeah! So back of unless you want the same done to you,
pal!
Mike: Guys, stop helping.
Borg: The Collective is no more? We are alone? Without our
crewmates to assist us? This unit must continue its
existence. This unit must adapt. . .
[The Borg wanders off stage.]
Crow: Mike!. You scared her off ! Way to go!
Tom: Yeah, good job Big Guy!
Mike: But I didn't do anything! I just stood here and
stammered!
Tom: Come on! You scared her off!
Crow: Don't sell yourself short. The bald guy himself couldn't
have done better.
[The Borg returns from off-stage. She no longer wears the Borg
prosthesis, rather she now wears a silver-gray form fitting
bodysuit, leaving little to the imagination.]
Borg: Oh. Hello again Michael.
[The trio stands speechless for a moment.]
Mike: Um, hi.
Crow: [drools]
Borg: Although I am saddened that my presence in the Collective
has been terminated, I am quite happy to be spending time
among my new crew mates.
Mike: Um, yeah.
Tom: Who are you?
Crow: [drools]
Borg: I have long ago forgotten my birth name. Among the Borg,
we are simply referred to by number.
Crow: [Snapping back to life] You mean like 134,592,943 of
403,116,986?
Tom: Or Square Root of 13 of 47?
Crow: Wait, I thought she was Logarithm of 4 of pi to the
fourth?
Tom: No no, you've got it all wrong, she's Fourier Series of
Sin 2*x of the number of 1997 Denver Nugget losses.
Mike: Guys. . .
Crow: No, she's 36 of 24 of ...
Mike: Crow!
Crow: Come on, Mike. She's a babe!
Borg: [Angrily, grabbing Crow] Golden one! Are you making a
derogatory comment about me? Are you, perhaps comparing
me to a child?
[She drags Crow off-stage. Loud noises can now be heard as Crow
is tossed about.]
Tom: Gee Mike. Do you think that we should keep the Borg from
turning Crow into scrap metal?
[Crow shrieks as more crashes are heard.]
Mike: I suppose. Hey, Borg person!
[She reappears, still grasping Crow by the neck.]
Crow wasn't insulting you. He was comparing you to a
beloved character of children's films.
Borg: [Dreamily] I remember watching this program with my
grandparents before my assimilation. It was one of the
happiest moments of my young life. Then the Borg
killed them in a raid. Still, the Borg made wonderful
latte. And bear claws. . . [She continues to mumble]
[Tom looks at Mike, then the Borg, then Mike again.]
Tom: Mike, do you have any missing relatives?
Mike: Oh Borg? Booorg?
[She snaps back to reality.]
Borg: Oh. Yes. Sorry. I have considered the Golden One's
words, and I will gladly accept the moniker that he has
given. I will proudly bear the name of that brave little
pig.
[She drops Crow to the floor.]
Mike: Well, that's great, um, Babe.
Tom: Glad to have you aboard.
Crow: [Still on the floor] Erf.
Babe: [angrily] What was that, Golden One?
[The lights begin to flash.]
Mike: Whoops. That'll have to wait. We've got fan-fic sign!
[Mike and Tom rush about while Babe stands aside, confused.
Crow's still on the floor.]

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

[The trio enters and sits down.]
Tom: Wow. We've got our own little pet Borg now. Isn't that
cool?
Crow: I miss Gypsy. She didn't hit me quite as hard.

>From rto...@direct.ca Fri Jan 09 13:58:47 1998
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW Hail to the Queen 2/4 [PG] (TNG, Marrissa
>Stories)
>From: Ron Tonts <rto...@direct.ca>

Tom: Oh, so Rob is sending *direct* caca.

>Date: Fri, 09 Jan 1998 19:58:47 +0000
>
>
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> Chapter 3
>
> Jay had retrieved his child from the seat, proceeded to his
>quarters, and placed the child in its crib. He then proceeded
>to throw the largest tantrum since the last time he thought
>Marrissa was dead.

Mike: Which was last night, when Marrissa wandered off to the
bathroom without telling him.
Tom: [Jay] I wanted to kill her! I wanted to kill her!

> This time it was even worse though. She was
>alive,

Tom: Even worse than being dead...she's alive!
Mike: I hear ya.

> she could come back, but she was a member of the Borg.
>Now in order to retrieve her, he had to defeat her. It was no
>good, she could do anything better than he could.

Crow: Hey, he's singing Marrissa's theme song!
Tom: [Marrissa] o/~ Anything you can do, I can do better, I can
do anything better than you! o/~
Mike: [Jay] Yes, dear.

> The Kobayashi
>Maru time, the command experience, even being a parent seemed
>to come naturally to her.

Crow: Somehow, it *always* seems to come back to that Kobiyashi
Maru score.
> There was no way to win, and the
>Federation would be assimilated.

Crow: Yep, without Marrissa the damn Federation Janitors
couldn't work . . .

> If an entire fleet could
>barely stop the Borg when they had one ship and was unified,
>how could they stop six ships? The questions kept him awake
>through the night.
>

Mike: Uh, no, Jay, that's the baby.

> On one of the cloaked Borg ships, Marrissa
>was placed, well, more like thrown,

Tom: Well, more like tossed upward, rebounding off the
backboard, hitting the blimp, bouncing off Morn, off the
replicator, nothing but net.

> on a table, ringed with
>various equipment. The Borg nanites

Crow: Hmm. The Borg must have been at that Carnival too.

> were flowing through her
>blood stream now, spreading numbness where ever they went.

Mike: Marrissa's being assimilated by Cure fans.

> Her uniform was removed

Mike: Boy, who'd've thought the Borg were such perverts?
Crow: [Borg] Clothing is irrelevant. We will--hey, nice ones!

> and replaced with a form-
>fitting, black jumpsuit.

Crow: So, did Herb help with this story too?
Mike: Say now...
Tom: Mike, we have our own one of those now out on the Bridge.
Mike: Yeah, you're right. I better go check on her. Um, just to
see if she's okay, of course.
Tom: Oh, of course.
Crow: Stay away from her Mike. She's trouble.
Mike: Yeah right.
[Mike exits.]
Tom: So, will she kill him or just maim him?
Crow: My money's on 'kill.'

> The only area that was yet to be
>affected by the nanites, was the brain region.

Crow: Which, eclipsed by her glands, was easy to miss!

> As the loss of
>feeling spread up her spine the last bit of consciousness that
>was Marrissa closed its eyes

Tom: And floated out of Marrissa's body to inhabit a nearby
ventriloquist's dummy.

> and cried out in pain and anguish
>as it slowly was cut off from its senses. In its place was
>only the Collective, needing a leader and an icon.

Tom: Oh, just paste it into the Get Info window..
Crow: [mumbled] MacBoy.

> The logical part of the mind accepted this as a
>challenge to over throw, and submersed itself in its task.

[Mike re-enters]
Crow: [To Tom] Damn. He's alive.
Tom: Back so soon, Mike? Did you forget about the lack of
atmosphere on the Bridge again?
Mike: No. Herb added some atmosphere for the union people.
Crow: Well then, how did it go with Babe?
Mike: I didn't see her.
Tom: So why are you back then?
Mike: The union people. They. They, they had their shirts off.
[All shiver uncontrollably.]

>When her eyes reopened, there was emotions, passions, values,
>and memories of her past life that seemed distorted.

Tom: Well, yes, looked at logically Marrissa's values and
passions do seem a bit distorted.
Mike: Almost as if they were written by a fanfic author...

> She
>wondered why she waited to attain what she always wanted.
>Power.

Crow: Boy, Rob's characterization of Marrissa is right on the
money!

> The Collective answered saying she was weak then, but
>now she was strong, now she had the power.

Mike: [standing and holding his arms over his head] BY THE
POWER OF THE COLLECTIVE...

> There was the Borg,
>the Queen, and they were surrounded by Chaos.

Mike: See? There's Elric standing over there by the Borg coffee
table.

> Chaos must be
>brought to the order of the Borg. Marrissa accepted the power.
>

Crow: So pretty much par for the course then.
Mike: Like you said, he has some good insights into the
character.

> Images and memories flooded over Fleet Admiral Picard's head.

Tom: [as Picard] No! No! Not the OJ Trial again!

> The horrors and pain he felt when he was a part of the Borg.
>Now his adopted daughter Marrissa was part of the Collective.

Crow: [Announcer] Today, you too can own Daughter Marrissa in
this fine line of Borg collectibles from the Franklin
Mint. Only 4 easy payments of $29.95!

> On his screen, he could see that admitting it pained his son-
>in-law Jay Gordon.

Crow: [Jay] The trouble is, she's not actually legally dead, so
I can't inherit yet...do you suppose we could at least
have her declared incompetent?

> But the worst part was that Marrissa had too
>much access to Starfleet defences and other secret operations.
>She knew weaknesses on all the ships that have come out.

Tom: Like, if you promise the crew of the Bozeman that you'll
send over nude gifs of Denise Crosby if they drop their
shields, they'll do it. Stuff like that.

> And she had a brilliant strategical mind.

Crow: And a psychotic disregard for all life, something he'd
never managed to achieve.

> "Jay, what are the most likely places for the Borg to attack
>now that they know about the Federation?" inquired the Fleet
>Admiral.

Tom: *Picard* is asking *Jay*?!?
Mike: That's sorta like Steven Hawking asking advice on quantum
mechanics from Gilligan!
Crow: So, the Borg didn't know about the Federation before?
Tom: [as Borg] Why are all these different ships attacking us?
It can't be some sort of federation of planets or
anything...

> "Well, the only targets that I can think of that they would
>hit, are Earth for the population, and since they always have
>seemed to go for it.

Mike: They're just funny that way.

> Mars and the Utopia Planitia shipyards in
>order to get the technology there. Vulcan because its a major
>keystone in the Federation.

Crow: Vulcans are from Pennsylvania?

> They might also try for the Essex
>Fighter facility. Oh, SoongCorp on Omicron Theta also has a
>large variety of technology along with the Defiant shipyard in
>orbit."

Tom: What a wonderfully contrived list of targets!
Crow: [Picard] And, since SoongCorp is an invention of this
author, I'm betting on that one.

> Jay listed.

[Mike, Crow, and Tom all speak at once. Mike holds up his
hands.]
Mike: Were we all just about to make jokes about Jay leaning to
one side?
Bots: Yes.
Mike: Well, let's just take them as read, then.

> "Is there some middle ground?

Crow: Nope. The Republicans and the Democrats are still at an
impasse.
Tom: Remember Crow, it's a Canadian story. Their political
parties are the Lumberjack Party and the Hockey Player
Party.

> A point where we can gather the
>fleet and get to all those points within an hour?" Inquired
>Picard.

Mike: Once again, that pretty much describes "Middle ground"
doesn't it?

> "Now this is rather ominous, but the best location happens to
>be Wolf 359."

Crow: Great! We can hide in the wreckage of their last
invasion!

> "How soon until your fleet can get there?"

Mike: Well, there's a pile up on the Vogon transpatial highway
so it'll be a while.

> "About a day or two. The Borg managed to cut the power
>supplies for most of the ships. They're recharging through
>the use, well, I don't understand the whole process,

Crow: [Jay] It's called the "Clara Sutter Handwave Procedure."
Mike: Recharging through use?
Tom: Obviously there's some piece of trektrivia we missed.

> but they
>should be ready for action soon.

Crow: Stand by for ACTION!!!!

>The Enterprise was damaged badly, and lost most of our
>engineering staff during the fight.

Mike: We're down to Ensign Dilbert and Wally.

> We can get the shields up
>in about an hour, but they'll only be at twenty percent.
>After that, we should get 100% shields in about eight hours."

Tom: Raging statistical action!

> "All right, we'll gather the fleet at Wolf 359. And pray
>that the results won't be the same as last time.

Crow: [Jay] Sir, this is Star Trek. Religion is considered
silly and irrelevant.

> And in
>addition, since there's no one in charge of the fleet, I'm
>promoting you to Rear Admiral."

Mike: And the vicious cycle continues.
Tom: Since Marrissa has you grabbing your knees all the
time . . .
Mike: Tom!
Tom: Oh, you thought it too.

> "Confirmed. Thank you, sir. Gordon out."

Crow: So Chief O' Hara, do you think that Batman can defeat the
Joker's nefarious plan?
Tom: Oh, faith and begorra Commissioner. We can only hope so.

> Jay switched off
>the connection. The loss of Marrissa was too much to bear, he
>was too depressed to even realise what the Fleet Admiral had
>said.

Crow: [Jay] What'd he say? Something about dogfood and Mel
Brooks? Ah, the heck with it!

> Sitting in the Ready Room of his wife,

Tom: I've never heard of that part of female anatomy before.

> brought back waves
>of emotion.

Crow: Fear, impotence, failure, humiliation.

> He felt he was going to cry, again, when Clara's
>voice came through the intercom.
> "Jay here, what can I do for you Clara?" Jay answered
despondently.

Crow: [as Clara] I need a man! Quick!

> "We're back up, and ready to kick some Borg tail.

Crow: [Jay] The Borg don't have tails, Clara.
Tom: [Clara] Well, then, I'll have Dr. Johnson attach some!
Crow: [Jay] Make it so.

> Your
>orders, Captain?"
> "That's Rear Admiral.

Tom: [Clara, muttering] Yeah, you're half right, anyway!

> Keep the teams working on the Shields
>and Weapons. The Borg don't seem to adapt to our weapons
>anymore,

Mike: ...since that would be sensible, after all...

> so lets just focus on getting as much power to the
>phasers and shields as we can."

Tom: So, let's exploit the plot contrivance as long as we can.

> "Well, sir, I think that we've come up with a method to
>increase the amount power we produce. Right now, we have four
>cargo bays completely empty."

Mike: [Clara] We can put some extra power there!

> "So?" Jay said. He failed to see the point Clara was
>making.

Tom: [as Clara] Think "T.G.I. Friday's!"
Crow: Or, we could fill them full of hamsters on treadmills,
all connected to tiny, tiny dynamos!

> "Are you familiar with the old papers on cold fusion?"

Tom: [Jay] Yeah, it was a pretty good Web management system!

> "Ah, yes. We tried it back in the 21th century, right?

Tom: No, I think it was the 20st. Or maybe even the 23nd.

> They couldn't find anything cold enough to contain the
>reaction."

Mike: Um... well... um... how about *space*?
Tom: Nope, not cold enough.
Crow: Did they try a dish of Klingon revenge?
Tom: I always pictured that as being like cucumber soup.

> "Well, we were going to set up fusion batteries in the Cargo
>Bays, and flood them with liquid Nitrogen. Then expose the
>cargo bay to deep space.

Mike: ...which will suck everything *out* of the bays...

> The result should be a system that gives us lots of
>power, and doesn't suck up the juice we make."

Mike: That wouldn't happen to be strawberry juice?
Tom: Err, doesn't the Federation use anti-matter for internal
power? That's a lot more efficient than fusion, hot or
cold.
Crow: Fan-bot.

> "Wait a moment, from what you're telling me, the system will
>need hydrogen and nitrogen in order to run. How will we get
>those?"

Tom: Oh, I dunno, maybe if you had some WATER and some AIR you
could get some?!?!

> "The replicators in the cargo bays can be set to continuously
>produce those substances.

Mike: Here's another box of nitrogen, sir.
Crow: Good. Now get some jars of hydrogen!

> They can be powered by the
>batteries too. It's like the heart pumping blood into
>itself."

Mike: [Clara; waving his hand] We call it the "By-our-
bootstraps Method."
Tom: Good thing she waited until the last minute to invent
perpetual motion.

> "You're too damned smart, Clara.

Mike: Report to Sickbay for a lobotomy.

> Keep it up. Jay out."
>Maybe things might not be so bad after all, thought Jay.
>

Mike: But they probably are.

> Hours later, the fleet moved off towards the rendezvous point
>at Wolf 359. Jay was in command, with Alexander fulfilling
>the duties as First officer,

Mike: Being a whipping boy for the Captain?

> and Ops.

Tom: Hey, who's this Ops fella? Seems like a regular sorta
guy.

> Everyone else remained at
>their posts.

Crow: [with a lisp] Don't evther sthick your tongue on cold
posths.

> "Clara to Bridge, were turning on the fusion batteries."

Tom: Bucka-WOW!!

> A gasp arose from the Crew as they waited to see if
>Clara's idea vaporised the lower portion of the ship.

Crow: And it did. Hundreds of crewmembers were sucked out into
the endless void of space. Including one Ensign Adolphus
Throwaway Jr.

> The batteries turned on, the power grid surged with new
>found life. The entire ship held its breath for nearly three
>minutes.

Mike: ...killing most of the crew due to asphyxiation.

> They worked! Jay looked around eagerly for
>something to fire at, wanting to test the power of the
>Enterprise.

Mike: A starship captain with a battery is like a little kid
with a hammer.

> The fleet moved to Wolf 359.
>

Crow: Where they met the gang from Beverly Hills 90210.
Mike: I don't think this guy could write tension to save his
life.

> On the Borg ships, the Borg Queen Marrissa was orientating
>herself to the powers and collective thought of the race she
>had joined. The Borg did not touch her face or hair, as they
>understood that she had quite a reputation.

Tom: [Marrissa] And I want a big bowl of M&M's in my dressing
room, with all the yellow ones picked out, a dozen fresh
roses every day, and a CD player cranking out Smash Mouth
& Chumbawumba 24-7!
Mike: [Borg] Are we sure we can't just clone Alice Krige?

> Perhaps they could assimilate worlds just by showing that
>they now had her as one of them.

[All guffaw.]
Mike: Hey, Cardassians, we've got Marrissa now!
Crow: Hey, cool! Sign us up!

> The collective wanted the
>Earth in their iron clad order, but Marrissa wanted to have
>some fun first.

Tom: So fun isn't irrelevant?
Mike: Decent continuity certainly is.

> As her mind sent the order to the collective,
>the unseen ships moved towards a local colony world. The
>citizens were shocked and scared witless when the cubes
>emerged from deep space.

Crow: The citizens were confused. The cubes usually arrived
from one of the holes leading to the planet's hollow
center.

> Moving into orbit, one ship moved out
>of formation, and landed on top of the main colony.

Tom: Bambi Meets Godzilla, the Next Generation.

> The
>assimilation took place quickly, with the largest colony
>absorbed in about half an hour. The colonists then expected
>to meet the same fate, or be spared. But the Borg had other
>plans.

Crow: They involved strawberry juice and a planet-sized Super-
Soaker.

> A single torpedo was fired at the surface, as possibly a
>warning shot.

Crow: [Borg] We are Borg. We are capable of hitting the broad
side of a barn.

> But the true motives became apparent when the
>casing cracked open, and unleashed a virus upon the world.

Mike: They all got an e-mail titled "GOOD TIMES - JOIN THE
CREW!"

> The cells in the body would turn against each
>other, tearing each other apart. Resulting in a slow, painful
>death.

Tom: So this fits the Borg style of assimilate-and-use HOW?
Mike: I don't think they're really doing that; they're just
telling Marrissa this to keep her happy.

> From the safety of her cube, Marrissa watched the plague
>spread across the puny planet.

Tom: Hulk smash puny planet!

> With a voice that could drop
>the temperatures of the depths of space, Marrissa laughed
>aloud.

Tom: I don't think power's really changed her...she's just more
obvious about it now.

> Her next target, something vital, something no one would
>expect.

Mike: In a wartime situation, I don't think those two things
can be the same thing.

> Something that wasn't a small, fledgling colony along
>this strip of space called the neutral zone.

Crow: Someplace with a mall!

> Searching through
>the data and her memories, she found the perfect target.
>

All: Broadway!
Crow: Coming this fall, "Marrissa the Musical!"

> "Captain's log. We have arrived at Wolf 359. The place is
>mush

Mike: Q! How dare you turn an entire system into pudding!

> cleaner than it was after the last get together the Borg
>held here.

Tom: So, were the Borg having a block party?

>Most of the ships were taken to the smelting yard. I hope
>that once we're done here, there'll still be a Federation to
>haul the debris back to a smelting yard.

Crow: That's right Jay, think optimistic! [mumbling] Poor
deluded bastard.

> Moral is at an all-
>time low.

Crow: Wild, random sex in the hallways is rampant, commandments
are being broken around the clock and I don't think a
single crew member is fully sober.
Tom: Oh, like in "The Naked Now."

> Especially since the Borg have attacked a small
>outpost. They assimilated the main colony, and destroyed the
>rest with some type of biological weapon.

Mike: [Jay] Fortunately, we were able to cure everyone with the
biofilter in the transporter.
Crow: Oh, like they ever repeat a trick like that.

> If this
>ruthlessness is any indication, the entire galaxy is in more
>danger than ever before."

Crow: Yeah, because of your wife, pouf-pants.

> Jay sighed as he finished the log.

Crow: And flushed.
Mike: D'oh - Crow!
Crow: Relax, that was just for old time's sake.

>The fleet was impressive, he'd give it that. The Earth
>defence fleet led by Fleet Admiral Picard in the USS James T.
>Kirk was in attendance, along with the Defiant fleet

Mike: [Picard] Attack the Borg!
Tom & Crow: [fleet] No!

> from
>Omicron Theta. There were two Stargazer class carriers, the
>twelve Defiants,

Tom: Doesn't this kind of defeat the purpose of giving them
names?

> Two Nova class Carriers including the
>Enterprise, seven Nebula class cruisers, two Galaxy class
>Cruisers, nine Sovereign class Battleships, four Ambassador
>cruisers,

Mike: Two and a half Maltin Review Vessels. . .

> and twelve Excelsior class cruisers.

Tom: I hope you got all that, because there's going to be a pop
quiz later.

> There was even
>five Klingon Vor'cha battle cruisers. In total, fifty-five
>ships gathered at the rendezvous.
>

Mike: Nice Hot Wheels collection Jay's got there.
Tom: Yup.

> The fighter squadron was out running manoeuvres. "This is
>Ground control to

Crow: Major Tom?
Mike: Too obvious.

> Fighter Squadron Alpha. Come in Alpha
>leader."
> "Roger that, Control. What can I do for ya?" Came the reply.
> "How are the manoeuvres going?"

Tom: [Alpha leader] That depends - what's a "manoeuvre"
Crow: It's the plural of "man ovary". Good gravy, Jay's
pregnant!!!
Mike: Settle down, it's just creeping Canadianism.

> "We've hit two of the five waypoints, and are moving around
>the far side of the Moon now.

Mike: [Alpha leader] We have "The Wizard of Oz" loaded in the
VCR, and are prepared to start the CD on the third roar
of the lion.

> Hold on a minute, there's a
>massive subspace anomaly dead ahead."

Crow: Damn jumpgates and stargates, it's not safe to travel any
more.

> "What is it?"
> "I dunno.

Crow: Just your typical massive subspace anomaly. You haven't
been on Star Trek long, have you?

> All fighters, proceed to the following
>coordinates." The fighters remained in a tight diamond
>formation, as they banked towards the anomaly.

Crow: It's a chance to get killed, hurry!

> "Can you scan it yet?"
> "Yeah, we're starting now. What the @#^*&#(!%#@(*$%(@^"
>static replaced the message.

Mike: Heyheyhey, watch your language - there are kids here!
Crow: Yeah, and they're your bosses!
Mike: Good point.

> "What do ya suppose that was all about, Fred?" the Radio man
>asked his partner.

Crow: And now we seem to have wandered into a Stan Ridgeway
song.
Tom: [partner] Sounds like they're playing Q*Bert. And not
doing too well.

> In a moment the question was answered, when the Borg
>fleet appeared in the sky above.
>

Mike: Well, technically it wasn't "above," because there's no
up or down in space, and it wasn't the sky because there
was no atmosphere, but other than that it's basically
accurate.

> "Sir, we've just received messages about the location of
>the Borg fleet." Said the Tactical officer on the USS Kirk.

Mike: They're in front of Fred. Beyond that, it's not too
clear.

> "Pass the coordinates on to the rest of the fleet. Helm,
>maximum warp. Engage." Picard ordered, reminding him of his
>days as a Captain of the Enterprise.

Mike: [Picard] Make it so! Come! Tea, Earl Grey, hot!

> The fleet moved off towards
>the confrontation.
>

Tom: So, apparently, no one cares what planet the Borg are at.
Crow: [Picard] To Planet Generica! Maximum Warp!

> Queen Marrissa had a special room constructed for her in the
>very heart of the Cube.

Crow: The Rubix Cube?

> The room had a chair,

Tom: Wow! Not even the Tsars dreamed of such luxury!

> and a large
>viewscreen.

Crow: [Marrissa] Boy, on this thing Brad's butt is the size of
a Buick.

> All her implants were able to connect and
>disconnect to the chair at will for feeding, resting, and
>commanding.

Tom: Well, it's not an interocitor, but I guess it'll have to
do.
Crow: But not excreting, so as usual, she was still full of
crap.

> The viewscreen showed the target planet in the
>background, and with the fighter craft they had just
>captured in a picture-in-picture display.

Mike: [sobbing] Picture-in-picture...next thing we'll find out
it has a Sega...
Crow: It also had stereo sound, VCR-Plus, a built-in DVD
player. Plus, a hammock for all the stuffed animals she's
assimilated.
[Mike begins to sob harder]
Tom: Don't taunt him like that.

> The pilots were
>pathetic, not knowing anything about the structure of the
>security grids, or anything of relevance.

Crow: Y'know, I never noticed this before, but Marrissa has a
bit of an attitude, doesn't she?
Tom: Wow, Crow, you're right! She certainly keeps it well
hidden.

> They were added to the
>Collective. Sitting back in the iron throne, she contemplated
>her next move. To assimilate, or obliterate. That is the
>question that plagues her thoughts.
>

Tom: Whether 'tis nobler to compose a fanfic,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing, end them. To write, to type,
Aye, there's the rub; but in these fics of fan
What implausibilities may come must give us pause.
Who would Kids Crew bear, or Marrissa read,
When he could his quietus make with a delete key?

> The fleet dropped out of warp to find the Borg sitting in
>orbit behind the outer moon. A shudder ran through Jay's
>system as he recognised the Borg's newest target. The planet
>Essex.
>

Mike: Oh, they're going to excavate the ending to "A Royal
Mess" so we finally get to see it.
Crow: No, not even the Borg would be that sinister.

> On the bridge of the Kirk, Picard sat contemplating his next
>move.

Tom: Geeez, the only thing people are doing are sitting around
and contemplating their next move!
Crow: This is the Star Trek equivalent of "Waiting for Godot."

> It was odd, he always heard the Borg after the
>encounters. His mind was alone, with only himself and no Borg
>directives or other thought entering his mind.

Tom: [Picard] Y'know, I think I really like vanilla.

> "Sir, there's a message coming through from the Borg." the
>Tactical officer announced.

Mike: Will you accept the charges?

> "On screen." Picard ordered.
> The space view of the Borg armada switched to the inside of a
>cube.

Tom: [sports announcer] You're looking *live* at sold-out Borg
Cube Arena...

>"We are the Borg. This is a message for Locutus.

Crow: [Borg] Bob called. He'd like his hedge trimmers back,
and wants to know if you're up for bowling Friday night.
Oh, yeah, and resistance is futile.

> You destroyed
>the Queen,

Tom: [Mandy Patinkin] Prepare to die.

> but have also given us a replacement."

Tom: It's Troi! Ahh! Oh wait. Why are we afraid of her?

> The screen
>then shifted to the interior of the room where Marrissa sat.
>Her face was untouched by the Borg implants that sprung

Crow: Hey, it's "The Number of the Beast!"
Mike: No, there's an "r."

> from
>her body, covered by the black jumpsuit instead of the usual
>Starfleet uniform.

Crow: Great, now Marrissa's a mime.

> Tubes and wiring connected the chair with
>her form, in an eerie mesh of Biological and Technological.

Mike: Hey, she's a dual major! Typical overachiever.
Tom: Akira!
Crow: She's Metron!

> Despite the horrors she was subjected to, she almost lounged
>casually in her seat.

Tom: Just ignore the margarita she's holding.

> Watching on the bridge of the
>Enterprise, Jay felt like throwing up every bit of matter in
>his digestive system.

Crow: [as Jay] *Gag*! Marrissa, black just *isn't* your color!
You're more of a spring!

> "Ah, greetings Locutus. Or should I say, Father?" the New
>Queen started "As you can see, I've now joined the Borg in
>their quest to bring order to the galaxy. Not only that, but
>I get to have some fun on the side."

Crow: [Marrissa] Oh, and Jay? I'm seeing Six of Two now. Hope
you understand. Buh-bye.

> a smile crossed her face,
>and a chuckle escaped her lips.

Tom: [Jay] Funny, I'd have thought being assimilated would have
changed her personality a *little*!

>"Your puny fleet is no match for us, and you've been
>disconnected from our Collective.

Crow: To get reconnected, there'd be a $45 hook-up fee.

> Resistance is now truly
>futile." With that, the channel closed,

Crow: Throwing Herzog and his cronies out of work!
[All cheer]

> and the attack on
>Essex began.
>

Mike: Yep, sadism. Really makes your species more efficient,
doesn't it?

> The Borg moved towards the Planet, leaving one ship in orbit
>to cover them.

Tom: One ship to watch them all, one ship to cover them,/One
ship to guard them all and hover in space above them.

> The one ship fired every weapon in its arsenal at the
>Federation Fleet. From shield drainers to cutting lasers.

Mike: Even the kitchen sink!

> The Federation belted

Crow: Tsk. Tsk. Drinking while fighting the Borg.
Mike: Actually, that's kind of sensible.

> areas where the weak systems
>were supposed to be, only to find a new weapon port, or extra
>armour placed around it.

Crow: Hey, the Collective finally assimilated a clue!
Tom: Oh, that's what we were doing wrong! We were ignoring the
weaknesses of our own ships! No wonder we keep losing!

> The ships were rewarded by getting
>blasting or immobilised.
>

Mike: I've heard of better rewards.

> On the planet of Essex, Queen Victoria and her Counsel were
>huddled in a bomb shelter under the palace.

Tom: And they are not amused.
Crow: Meanwhile the general populace died horribly. . .

> The Borg positioned
>themselves above the palace, and beamed down to assimilate any
>one they could find.

Crow: [Borg] You will be assimilated.
Mike: [Borg] I am *already* assimilated, you big doof.

> In the bomb shelter, two Borg appeared
>and began to assimilate the Counsel. Queen Victoria cried in
>terror, but became relieved when she saw Marrissa's visage
>behind the two Borg.

Mike: That's odd. Most people scream in terror when they see
Marrissa, and are relieved when the Borg appear.

> "Greetings Victoria." As the Borg assimilated the
>people, Victoria could see the rest of Marrissa, and

Crow: ...she LIKED what she SAW!
Tom: Sure, if you're into tubes.

> what had
>happened to her. "It looks like I'm the Queen now, hmmm? Of
>Essex, and of the Borg.

Mike: Coming soon to theaters near you: Marrissa: Queen of the
Essex!

> Soon, the galaxy will be mine!"

Mike: She's crossed the line that separates ordinary villainy
from cartoonish super-villainy.

> With
>that, Marrissa unleashed the laugh that chilled the room.

Crow & Tom: o/~ Oh, the laugh that chilled the room was the
start of the Revolution... o/~

> "You'll never manage to fully assimilate me, you bitch!" spat
>Victoria,

Tom: So, she crawled into her Power loader and forced Marrissa
away from Newt.

>using all her inner strength to build up her courage. "My
>spirit will not accept the bonds that you place on my mortal
>body."

Crow [Marrissa]: Okay, then we'll just shoot you

> "Such petty words, from a petty being." Marrissa sighed.
>Her voice suddenly took on a Peaches and Cream tone.

Tom: I'd sing here, but I can't remember anything that they
sang.

> "Now my dear Victoria, what would possess you to think I
>would allow the Borg to assimilate you?"

Mike: [Dustin Hoffman] Are you trying to assimilate me, Ms.
Picard?
Crow : We have SOME standards.
Tom: So if she's assimilated, would she be Victoria Borg?
Crow: [Victor Borge] Rezhistance ist futile. *KEEK* Ve vill add
your biological, *GLICK* und technological, *GLICK*
dishtinctiveness to our-r-r-r-r own. *KEEK*

> "You-you mean you won't ..." stammered Victoria, amazed and
>relieved at the same time.
> "No, I wouldn't let them." Marrissa interrupted, in the same
>friendly tone. "Not when I could savour this type of moment."

Crow: [Victoria] Hey, baby, where does this tube go?

> With that, Marrissa drew a Romulan disrupter from a holster
>that extended out of her hip,

Mike: Suddenly, she's "Robocop", too.

> and aimed it at the former Queen
>of Essex. With a cry that stretched across eternity,

Tom: These stories are just getting longer and longer.

> Victoria
>became a small pile of dust.

[Once again, more balloons drop from the ceiling of the
theater, and Mike and the bots dance around again.]
Crow: No, no. First she has to turn her into a dodecahedron,
then she can crush her and turn her into a pile of dust.
Tom: Mike, can this be happening? Are our dreams of a
Marrissa-free universe coming true?!
Mike: It sure looks that way, Tom...
Tom: I wonder if this is officially in Ratliff continuity?
Mike: Official Kids Crew canon. Now there's a scary thought.
Crow: Hey, this means Ratliff has to drop "Heir to the Throne
of Essex" from the introduction scenes!

> The newly acquired Borg and
>Marrissa beamed back to their Cube, which then set down on top
>of the palace, assimilating the entire structure.
>

Tom: In the U.S. we call it "crushing."
Mike: Yep, the cube now has stables and fountains, but who
cares, they'll assimilate ANYTHING.

> Meanwhile, back in orbit, the Federation fleet was making
>some progress. However the cost was too steep.

Mike: Well, sure, if you get the leather interior and 6-CD
changer.

> One heavily
>damaged Ambassador class ship

Crow: The U.S.S. Jim Carrey.

> rammed into the Borg vessel,
>breaching the hull, and exposing a weak point.

Crow: One of many in the plot.

> The area was
>now the prime target, and the Borg defended it as such.
>Twenty-one ships died before the final Quantum Torpedoes
>struck the vulnerable area, destroying the ship.

Mike: Duck, more numbers!

> The fleet
>turned it's attention to the planet of Essex, where the key
>areas and cities were already absorbed. The ships moved into
>orbit, where they bombarded the surface with several
>torpedoes.

Tom: Why is the Federation attacking Essex?
Mike: I think "the fleet" means the Borg.
Crow: I thought the proper term was a gaggle of Borg.
Tom: No, a pride.

> The torpedoes impacted, but instead of exploding or
>unleashing a biological weapon,

Tom: ...they broke open to expose a creamy nougat filling!

> they began to super-heat the
>molecules in the air.

Crow: Quick! Get the popcorn!

> Fires broke out across the globe.

Mike: Mass choirs of "Row Row Row your Boat" shortly followed.
Crow: Sales of marshmallows and hot dogs increased
dramatically!

> Eventually even the very earth molecules began to
>heat up.

[All guffaw.]
Crow: Hey, Mike, I can't find "Earth" on my periodic chart!
Tom: Sure you can. Right next to "Fire" and right under "Air."

> The once thriving world of Essex became little more than
>a miniature burning sun for a brief moment, and then remained
>a small charred cinder.
>

Crow: Wow! Marrissa's reaching heights of destruction even
*she* never dreamed of!
Mike: Ratliff must be so-o-o-o-o jealous right now!
Tom: Wow. I enjoyed THAT.
Mike: You know, except for WHO she kills, Marrissa is pretty
much the same.
Crow: Yeah, and we do have the bonus of watching the
representative of an outdated system of government be
killed off.
All: Hmmmmm . . .

> Jay watched as the world of Essex became a black ball of ash.
>He was stripped of all his grief and sadness, and cloaked in
>anger.

Mike: So he's nude and pissed?
Crow: Not a BAD metaphor.

> "Helm, take us to the nearest cube.

Tom: [helmsman] Course set for planet Rubik, sir!

> Clara, get those
>batteries attached to the phasers and shields. Shayna, arm
>all weapons.

Mike: [Jay] Alex, whine about your father. Patterson, find out
whether you're a man or woman today.

> Keep the phasers and shields on a rotating
>modulation. If they can adapt, lets not give them the
>chance."

Mike: Ooops, too late, we're dead.

> The Enterprise moved off, with the fleet calling after it.
>Within moments, one of the huge cubes filled the viewscreen.

Mike: "Objects in the viewscreen may appear larger than they
really are."

>The Enterprise fired all of its weaponry into the former
>strong areas of the cube in hopes of hitting a vital system.
>The cube merely sat and absorbed the punishment.

Tom: Ahhh, apparently, the Borg are in to S&M!
Crow: "Whip me! Harder! Harder!"
Mike: Ok, guys, we're getting into a really weird area here...

> With only small scratches to the hull, the Borg
>returned fire with a cutting laser,

Crow: So they're gonna slash the Enterprise's tires?

> but not directed at
>Engineering, or the bridge, but at the cargo bays.

Mike: So, the Borg apparently no longer have any sense of
what "Vital ship systems" are?

> The Fusion
>batteries took direct hits and overloaded.

Mike: Whoops. Forgot about those. Sorry.
Tom: Starfleet announced the tragic death of the Puttermans
today. . .

> This sent a massive
>surge though the power grid, overloading the phasers and
>shields. In such a vulnerable position, the Borg could have
>made short work out of the ship.

Tom: Bwow-chicka-bow-BWOW!

> However, it cloaked and
>moved off to join the rest of the group.
>

Crow: Because otherwise it would have bogged down the plot.

> After the fleet limped back to Wolf 359, and Jay received a
>harsh lecture from the Fleet Admiral about running off with
>the ship.

Mike: [Admiral] Young man, what have I told you about borrowing
the ship without permission?
Tom: [Jay, contrite] Sorry, Dad.
Mike: [Admiral] No raktajino for a month!
Tom: [Jay] I'd be upset if I knew what the hell raktajino was.

> The fleet was stumped. There was no indication of
>what target they would go for next. As a result, the only
>option was to sit back, wait, and lick their wounds.

Crow: My wound tastes like pus, what does yours take like.
Mike: [Retching Noises] Thanks . . .