[MiSTed] Lessons of History (2/4)
Matthew Miller
/...6...5...4...3...2...o
>From: E_Ho...@postoffice.utas.edu.au (Captain Cellulite)
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW ST:TNG/DS9-DC Superman Crossover (4/11) "Lessons of History"
>Date: 29 Jul 1996 01:10:54 GMT
>Organization: University of Tasmania
>Lines: 135
>Message-ID: <E_Hodges-2907961112090001@mg4_67.its.utas.edu.au>
>NNTP-Posting-Host: mg4_67.its.utas.edu.au
>
>Lessons of History
>(Star Trek TNG, DS9/DC-Superman Crossover) Part 4
>
[ Mike and bots come in and sit down ]
> Clark Kent walked along the corridor with the alien called 勲r Worf'.
>He'd seen aliens before, and this one fitted the general category. The
>thing was the Captain's name. Jean-Luc Picard was as French as they come
>and that disturbed him.
MIKE: Since his main experience of French behavior was Monty Python movies.
> His keen reporter's instinct told him this ship
>was from Earth and that he was in the future. How far in the future he
>would not like to guess, but he would still reserve judgment until he
>would get to see the ship. They stopped. 勲r. Worf' opened a door and
>walked into it. The place was big!
TOM: But not any bigger than vision would allow, of course.
> When Clark thought of all the space
>ships he had been on. This was certainly the most comfortable.
CROW: Well, considering the last spaceship he was on was a teensy escape pod
heading away from the smoking remains of Krypton...
> "If you need anything. Ask the Computer," 勲r. Worf' said curtly. He
>walked over to an object that looked like a futuristic oven without a
>door. "This is the replicator. Just ask what you want and It will make it.
>Now if you will excuse me." 勲r. Worf' walked out. Clark looked through
>the shut door and noticed that two individuals with some kind of ray gun
>stood outside his door. It was obvious he was not trusted. We looked
>around. He knew he would probably change out of his torn suit. He wondered
>how you asked the computer for something.
TOM: Uh-oh, looks like high-velocity slapstick time.
> "Computer?" He asked experimentally. He heard a small series of chirps.
>It obviously was the computer acknowledging him. "Computer. Can you make
>me something to wear?"
> "The replicator is capable of producing clothing,"
MIKE [mechanical voice]: That's not my department.
CROW: Keen! Mechanized bureaucracy.
> A disembodied voice
>said. He walked over to the replicator and looked at the controls. He had
>almost no idea how they worked. He thought If you can talk to the
>computer; maybe you can talk to the 罫eplicator' too.
> "Make me some clothes."
> "Please specify size," The Voice said.
> "I don't know the sizes," He explained.
MIKE: Well, that's what you get for logging into the Gap's web site.
> "State you size in terms of Small, Medium, Large or Extra Large."
TOM: Don't suppose it can produce those `XXL, property of Starfleet Academy
Drinking Team' workout shirts, do you?
> Clark looked at his body. Definitely Extra Large he thought. "Extra Large."
MIKE [mechanical voice]: All right, one extra-large Johnson t-shirt.
> There was another series of chirps. The replicator lit up and
>immediately clothes appeared in the slot with a flash of blue sparks. He
>took his torn suit of and put on his new clothes. They were a bit loose,
>but they where the right length at least. He looked around the room. He
>asked the Computer the date and it gave it to him. "2470! That' s over
>three hundred and seventy years!" It all came crashing down on him. Ma and
>Pa, and Lois! He had lost everything that had meant anything to him!
CROW: Now, hold on here, whining about the people he misses? Is this Superman
or Conner MacLeod?
TOM: And what a brilliant mind. He must be the Hanna-Barbera Superman from
around 1981.
MIKE: Hey, it could be worse.
CROW: Yeah, he could be that greasy Dean guy...
ALL: Eeeeewwwwwwwww.
> He
>slumped in a chair and put his head in his hands. The feeling of loss was
>so strong he felt sick. Then, a strange chirp came from the door. He
>realised it must have been a doorbell of some sort. He walked over to it
>and pressed the panel that was next to the door. I slid aside to reveal a
>strikingly beautiful woman with long dark hair and mysterious eyes. She
>smiled
> "May I come in?" She asked.
TOM: You can tell how much this guy admires the characters. Look at how much he
uses the capitalized `he' and `she'.
> "Yes of course." He stood politely aside and allowed here to enter.
> "Thankyou." She walked across the room and looked out the window before
>turning to look at him. He was not quite sure what to make of this.
> "How may I help you?" He asked.
> "My name is Deanna Troi, I was wondering If I could help you." His eyes
>are so blue!
MIKE: Hm? What? Who said that?
> "Well... I'm quite comfortable," He said confused.
> "But your in pain," She stated seriously.
> He looked dumbfounded.
> "I'm an Empath. I know that you're going through a period of mourning.
>It would come as quite a shock..." She started.
> He realised that she was a psychiatrist. "I'm very flattered. But I
>don't really feel like any psychoanalysing at the moment."
> "I understand. I'm not strictly a psychiatrist you know. I don't think
>you're crazy." She said.
> "I realise that, but I'm not really ready for any of that just yet."
CROW: I'm not ready to admit that my mind's all screwed up when...er...when my
mind's all screwed up.
> "Of course," She said. Just then another sound was herd from the door.
>Clark was feeling a little pressed.
> "Yes," He asked. The door opened. A man was standing in the door way. A
>man... no, not a man, his X-Ray vision revealed it. A machine stood in the
>doorway. A very complex and subtle machine. It was holding a parcel.
> "Data, I don't think its a good time to come in right now. I'm sorry.
>This is Lt. Commander Data," She said.
> "No that's Alright. He can come in," Clark said.
> "You are Clark Kent," It said.
MIKE: Huh, suddenly It is here?
TOM: Must've been looking for work after the Addams Family movies.
CROW: Or after attempting to rule the universe with the Black Thing went bust.
> "How did you..." He began.
> "I have been studying you Mr. Kent and to be honest I am most impressed
>and intrigued."
> Even though it was almost four hundred years in the future, the
>revealing of his identity came as a shock.
> "Data," Deanna hissed.
> "I'm sorry counsellor. Have I done something wrong?" It asked.
> "No," He said quickly, "that's all right."
> "I have something for you," It said holding out the package. "I
>replicated it when I saw that you suit was damaged."
> Clark Opened the package and found in it a Superman costume much like
>the one Ma had made... He felt the loss return in full force.
> "I replicated it to your specifications. However, it is made from much
>better materials..."
MIKE: So, instead of Trek fanboys, the Trek universe has Superman fanboys,
apparently.
> "I..." Clark croaked.
> "Data, I think we should be leaving." Deanna said and ushered a
>confused Data out. The door closed and left Clark to his grief.
CROW: It's best to let him work out his own feelings. Click! Whirr! Glad to
be of service.
>
> * * * * *
>
> "Data, that was not a good idea," She said reproachfully, "he's under a
>great deal of stress and pain."
> "I'm sorry counsellor. I did not know that my gift would be so badly
>received."
> "Well we'll just have to leave him alone for awhile now okay?"
> "Yes Counsellor," He agreed.
> Counsellor Deanna Troi was out of sorts for a strange reason. His
>presence is so powerful that it overwhelmed me she thought.
MIKE: Quotation marks. Use them.
> She knew
>situations where because of her attractiveness, sometimes a person could
>misinterpret kindness and concern for something more intimate, but in that
>situation, she found things reversed.
>"Besides I think you'd better tell me all you know about..."
> "Clark Kent."
> "Precisely."
> "Form what I have learned
CROW: Ooh, you can form what Data's learned?
TOM: Yeah, his brain's made out of electronics and Play-Doh.
> about the character in context of the
>fiction; he is a rescued alien from a destroyed planet known as Krypton,
>found by a Jonathan and Martha Kent and raised as their son. As he grew
>older, his unusual abilities surfaced and..."
> "What Kind of abilities?" She Interrupted.
MIKE: Guys, I'd like to point out once again the Intriguing, Constitutional-Era
Capitalization Rules Used By The Author.
TOM: Thanks, Mike.
> "His 継owers' include; invulnerability, great strength, heat vision,
>X-Ray vision and the ability to fly."
> "Fly?"
> "Yes. Not a great deal of information is revealed about how his powers
>work."
> "Go on."
> "By the age 18 he was able to fly. During this time he used his powers
>to help others covertly, until a situation arrived that he had to display
>his powers publicly."
MIKE: Which is far too boring to go into detail about.
CROW: Thank heavens.
> "How did he manage after that?"
> "He realised that to keep his private life and still help people. He
>would have to create a public identity called Superman. Which involves the
>costume."
> "How did he stop anyone finding out?"
> "Firstly he neglected to use a mask with made people suspect that
>Superman didn't have a secret identity. Like hiding in plain sight.
>Secondly as Clark Kent; He wore a pair of glasses which altered his
>appearance just enough.
TOM: Oh, stop trying to force us to make smart-aleck remarks about famous comic-
book history, will you?
MIKE: Probably trying to make his fanfic look good in comparison.
> And Thirdly, he trained his mannerisms differently
>as Clark Kent and Superman."
> "I feel a great loss from him, do you have anything to explain it."
> "Perhaps. Just before the comic finished, he was engaged to marry one
>Lois Lane, a co-worker and..."
> "Oh Dear." She said.
>
>--
>-- Can't think of a good sig..................................sorry--
>
>From: E_Ho...@postoffice.utas.edu.au (Captain Cellulite)
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW ST:TNG/DS9-DC Superman Crossover (5/11) "Lessons of History"
>Date: 29 Jul 1996 01:11:08 GMT
>Organization: University of Tasmania
>Lines: 133
>Message-ID: <E_Hodges-2907961112230001@mg4_67.its.utas.edu.au>
>NNTP-Posting-Host: mg4_67.its.utas.edu.au
>
>Lessons of History
>(Star Trek TNG, DS9/DC-Superman Crossover) Part 5
>
> "How do we know this is the same Superman as the one in the comics?"
>Picard asked.
> "There is no real way of knowing," Worf commented.
> "Counsellor, have you sensed any hostility from him?" The Captain Inquired.
> "No," She said, "what I did feel was a great concern for others, and a
>great sense of duty."
> "This could be the real Superman," Riker said.
> "I would like a word with this Clark Kent to find out how he ended up
>out here."
>
> Clark Meanwhile was learning a lot from the computer, and most of it
>was no good. In fact he found no record of the existence of Metropolis or
>Smallville for that matter. He couldn't find anything on the Daily Planet
>or his parents or Lois or even Himself. It was if he never existed.
CROW: C'mon, this is _Star Trek_. Is it too much for him to be on Krypton?
TOM: Naw, that'd be too simple. It's an hour show after all.
> It was
>frustrating. He looked at the costume that the Android had given him, and
>felt that such a vulgar nonsense had no place here. He looked away from
>it. The door chimed.
> "Yes," He called
> The door opened and Captain Picard entered. "Clark Kent."
> "Yes."
> "I'm sorry for the intrusion, but I was wondering if we could talk."
> "Of course."
> "Counsellor Troi tells me you are having a hard time of it."
> "I'm getting better.
MIKE [singing]: I've got to admit it's getting better...it's getting better, all
the time...
TOM & CROW [singing]: It can't get much worse!
> Captain, can you tell me why there's no mention of
>Metropolis in the historical records you have?" He asked.
> Picard thought about diplomacy, but instead opted for honesty. "That's
>one of the things I have been meaning to ask you about. According to
>history. Clark Kent and Superman are no more than a artistic fantasy."
CROW: Or a fantastic artwork. It depends whom you ask.
> "A fantasy!" Clark Breathed.
> "Yes. One by one we have discounted possibilities. The fact that you
>could be from another quantum reality for example. The only two left are
>that either history has been radically altered to remove you from history,
>or that this is some kind of trick."
> Clark considered what the Captain was saying "Yes I can see your point,
>but I can't see how I could help. I can't even remember how I got into the
>cask you found me in."
TOM: Maybe some kook named Montressor walled you in?
MIKE: Ah, a cask of A-Clark-i-Kent-o.
> "I see." Picard mused "Perhaps you would be willing to..." The door
>chimed again.
> "I seem to be very popular today." Clark observed wryly. "Yes." He
>called to the door. It revealed a small black woman with an unusual hat.
MIKE: Lady, I think you're wearing your top hat upside-down.
> "Guinan..." Picard Began
> "I'm sorry Captain, but I wanted to meet the man himself. You probably
>don't remember me Superman, Metropolis corner of twenty third and eighth,
>the woman with the slight gang problem."
> He had seen her before, almost 400 years before to be exact.
CROW: Okay, so first he's fictional, and now he's not...HUH?!
> "Yes! I remember you, but it must be almost..."
> "Three hundred and seventy five years ago." She finished.
> "Guinan! Do you know him?" Picard asked astonished
> "Of course. I was wondering how long it was going to take before the
>truth came out."
> "The truth?"
TOM: The truth that Evan Hodges gave up on any sort of plot long ago?
> "The truth that human twentieth Century history was changed by someone."
MIKE: Oh, history changed. Of course. That explains everything.
CROW: Yes, it *does* explain... (ahem) everything.
> "Why didn't you tell anyone!" Picard demanded.
> "Who was going to believe me if I talked about men flyn' around and
>people dressed up as bats and guys who could run at the speed of light?
>Besides. History didn't end up that bad anyway. Plus the borg interrupted
>my investigation."
TOM: Oh, so history suddenly changed in the 20th century.
MIKE: Of course.
CROW: And this has never been found out before, ever.
MIKE: Of course.
> Clark couldn't help but be amused.
MIKE: Well, you're not the only one, Clark.
> Jean-Luc looked at Guinan with almost disbelief. Never had he
>questioned Guinan's abilities. She had an uncanny ability for being right,
>but this bold, offhand and unexpected revelation struck him dumb.
> "I've been making convert inquiries of course.
TOM: She's been inquiring how to convert a `Real Audio' format file to ... well
... anything.
> Trying to piece together
>what might have happened. Without much success I might add," She
>explained.
> Clark was still a little confused by how someone from the 20th century
>ended up here. She must have noticed because she explained, "I'm known as
>an El Aurian: A race of listeners. We are very long lived," She looked at
>him quizzically "You know I can probably understand how you feel."
> That final statement hit Clark like a reporter's favourite question in
>a crisis or tragedy: How do you feel? "Do you?" He asked a trifle
>impertinently.
> "Yes I do," She replied, "my cities disappeared to. I lost loved ones.
>When the Borg came."
TOM: Oh, no, now the Borg are getting involved in this?
CROW: No, that's a typo, actually the author decided mixing Trek and Superman
wasn't ridiculous enough ... su he's breenging in zee Svedeesh Cheff, tuu.
Bork Bork Bork!
> Clark's questioning look was answered by Picard. "There a race of
>cybernetic organisms linked as a collective, like a hive. Interested only
>in acquiring only technology
MIKE: Acquiring anything else, like working plumbing, is of secondary
importance.
> and assimilating cultures into the
>collective. By force if necessary." Clark processed this. Perhaps he could
>find a life here, but how? His talents as a reporter was probably not
>needed in this time, and this ship could probably do better a protecting
>her people then he certainly could. Even Superman couldn't match the power
>of this ship.
CROW: Yes, this ship has a MUCH bigger d--
MIKE: Ahem?
CROW: --efense system than he does.
> "Well I appreciate your concern. If I can help you in any way..." His
>hearing searched out, he heard a scream. He though that maybe someone else
>could deal with it. Damn it! I've got to help! He moved so quickly that
>Picard and Guinan were left standing looking at mid air. He rushed through
>the ship, using his X-Ray vision to find the right route. He got to a set
>of big thick interlocking doors with the sign 粂olodeck 3' on them.
TOM: Ah, yes, the Holodeck, everybody's favorite semi-functional bit barrel.
> The
>scream was coming from In there. He didn't waste a microsecond. Tearing
>the doors apart he rushed inside waist deep into water. He saw her. Still
>falling from a rock ledge about fifty feet up. He flew up to meet her and
>caught her three quarters of the way down. She was a teenager, about 16
>and in climbing gear.
> "Are you part of the program?" She asked breathlessly.
> He smiled. "No, I'm... Superman I heard you scream so I came in to help,"
> "Hey! I heard about you! You're the guy who supposed to be fictional
>right?"
> "Uh - Yes," He said
MIKE: Well, if you think that I'm not real, then I guess I won't really save
you. Bye!
> "Well thanks for catching me. Could have been looking at another broken
>arm," She looked down at the empty air under his feet. "Hey! Can you fly?
>Neat!" She exclaimed. He floated down into the water and he put her down.
>She noticed the ruined exit. "What did you do to the holodeck doors?" She
>asked. He looked at the destruction he had caused.
CROW: Don't you realize how expensive it is getting doors in exactly that size!
One has to be four inches wider than the other!
> "Well, I didn't really know how to get in quickly enough. Were are we?"
>He asked suddenly noticing he was at the bottom of a rock falls.
> "Oh. This is the holodeck. You can recreate almost anything in here. I
>was using a rock climbing program.
TOM: Rock climbing?!
CROW, TOM: NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
MIKE: Aw, c'mon, what's the big deal about rock climbing?
CROW: Oh, Mike, it would take forever for you to understand the pain.
> One a bit to tough for me I expect."
> At that moment Worf and the ships' security peered though the hole in
>the bulkhead that used to be the holodeck exit. "What happened here?" Worf
>asked.
> "Oh Hi Lieutenant! I was just saved by this very nice man!" The girl said.
> "Yes. I'm sorry about the doors. But I didn't have the time to open them."
> Worf grunted. He and the girl waded to the doors and left the holodeck.
>Clark noticed that his clothes were soaked. He also noticed their ray guns
>were pointed at him.
> "Hey! What's with the phasers! This guy just saved my life!"
> "I thought it was an arm," Clark Observed.
MIKE [thick English accent]: Sure, it's an arm, yer honour!
> Captain Picard jogged up to the team. "What's happened here?" He demanded.
> "Captain," The girl explained, "as I was just telling Lieutenant Worf
>here. This nice man just ripped off the holodeck doors and saved me from a
>very bad fall."
> Jean-Luc looked at Clark. "I'm sorry Captain," Clark explained. "I only
>had a couple seconds. I couldn't wait for the doors to open."
> "Umm. Yes, Well. I believe I would be best If you returned to your
>quarters now.
TOM: Human life is NOTHING compared to how important the doors are!
> Mr Worf, escort Mr. Kent to his quarters. Picard to
>Engineering."
> "Laforge here sir."
> "Send a repair crew to holodeck three to repair the doors."
> "Sir?"
>
>--
>-- Can't think of a good sig..................................sorry--
>
>From: E_Ho...@postoffice.utas.edu.au (Captain Cellulite)
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW ST:TNG/DS9-DC Superman Crossover (6/11) "Lessons of History"
>Date: 29 Jul 1996 01:11:25 GMT
>Organization: University of Tasmania
>Lines: 337
>Message-ID: <E_Hodges-2907961112390001@mg4_67.its.utas.edu.au>
>NNTP-Posting-Host: mg4_67.its.utas.edu.au
>
>Lessons of History
>(Star Trek TNG, DS9/DC-Superman Crossover) Part 6
>
> Clark sat in his quarters for hours. The remains of some rather
>interesting foods scattered around the table in the living room.
CROW [Bugs-Bunny-hairdresser voice]: Superheroes eat such IN-teresting foods...
> This life
>was certainly a very interesting one,
CROW: ...and lead such IN-teresting lives, and get into fanfics with such
IN-teresting plot lines...
> but Clark was becoming even more
>convinced that he was not needed or wanted here. It was then that the door
>chimed. It was the android, Data.
> "I hope I am not disturbing you," It said.
> "No of course not," He replied. Even the company of an android would be
>preferable to being alone. It walked in.
> "I came to apologise for such an inappropriate gift. I must admit that
>the character of Superman impressed me."
> Clark was surprised at this machine. He had met a few androids, but
>they were usually basic machines with no capacity for, or interest in,
>humanity.
TOM: Baby wants to *live*!
CROW: Argh, don't remind me.
> This one was different. It seemed generally concerned for his
>well being and impressed by Superman. It was either very convincing
>programming, or it was more than an android. "Well I'm flattered," He said
>motioning a seat. He noticed the stiff machine like way the android - Data
>- walked
TOM: Oh, he's just trying to hold it in.
> and thought again.
> "You see," He began "I am also very different from the other crew
>members of this ship. Like yourself, I am stronger and faster than anyone
>else here. Yet... I wish only to fit in.
MIKE: Having everyone in awe of my superiority gets really boring after a while,
you know?
> Since I was found on Omicron Theta,
>I have wished to become more human." Clark was increasingly more surprised
>as Data continued. "But I am incapable of emotion. I find it hard to
>sometimes to even understand even the most basic human concepts, such as
>humour." As Data continued with his story. Of how he was found on Omicron
>Theta, and how he had found that he was much faster and stronger than
>anyone else.
CROW: More rust-prone than everyone else, too.
> And how he searched to find his place in this society.
>Eventually applying to Starfleet. Clark felt like Data was a kindred
>spirit. Data was found just like He was. Saved from destruction by both
>their fathers. Jor-El saving his son Kal-El from the destruction of
>Krypton because of a super critical nuclear reaction in the planet's core.
>Noonian Soong leaving Data. Saving him from a crystalline entity that
>devastated that world.
TOM: Yeah, but did Data's creator get to be played by Marlon Brando?
> Both of their struggles with their abilities. To
>find a place were people would accept them. He now knew that Data was much
>more than a machine. He was a person. Who was only made with different
>substances.
> "Thankyou Data," He said with great understanding. "You've helped me
>realised that I still have a place, and that I should never judge a book
>by its construction." He looked at the Superman suit. He saw it now as a
>legacy for all people like Clark and Data. "Perhaps there is a place for
>Superman in the twenty fourth century after all."
TOM [whispering]: Pssst. Supes. The computer said it's 2470. That's the
twenty-*fifth* century.
CROW: Perhaps his super-brain is starting to get a little super-scattered.
> Suddenly the ship shook
>violently. An explosion was heard. The lights dimmed.
> "Red alert! Shields up! All hands to battle stations!" Captain Picard's
>voice boomed though the ship's intercom. Data turned to leave quickly.
>Clark noticed something speeding for his quarters view port.
MIKE: Incoming plot point!
> "Data! Look!" He shouted over the din. Data turned just as the thing
>slammed strait
TOM: The Bering Strait?
CROW: Maybe they're going to put this author in a strait jacket.
> through the view port. Shards of transparent aluminium flew
>across the room, and the ship shook again from a terrible explosion. Data
>was knocked off his feet. Clark picked him up. The thing, now tightly
>wedged into the view port, unscrewed to reveal a small screen. On it was a
>familiar hideous face. "Henshaw!" He hissed.
> "You still remember me after four hundred years Superman. I am touched.
>You seem to have already found some friends."
> "Stop the attack on this ship Cyborg. This is between you and me!"
MIKE: Why do I suspect evil-robot Henshaw is going to have a climactic battle
with good-robot Data before we've checked out of this fanfic?
TOM: We shall see.
> "I have no intention of stopping my attack Clark. And yes. Your right.
>It is between you and me, and her!" The face moved to reveal a face filled
>with fear. A face he knew as his love.
> "Lois!"
> "Clark!" She shouted.
> The Cyborg's face returned. "What a happy reunion," It said sarcastically.
> "Your trying to trick me Henshaw."
> "No trick Superman. She lives, and so do your parents. When I found out
>about your Identity. I managed to put you and your loved ones in stasis.
MIKE: Just trying to kill him right then and there would be against every
Criminal Genius's Law.
> I
>couldn't destroy you then. So I waited until I could. I was ready twenty
>years ago. Come and get me if you can, but remember, the hall of the
>prophets is the only way!" The screen flicked and died.
TOM: Okay, now Superman I can see living for 400 years...vaguely, painfully, see
it...but Lois and Ma and Pa Kent?!
CROW: Like I said, the author Just Doesn't Care (tm).
> "Henshaw!" he screamed. His shout was punctuated by another explosion.
>Data's communicator spoke up.
> "Laforge to Data, Where are you? The ship is taking a hell of a beating
>from an unknown vessel."
> Data was about to reply when Clark tapped Data. "What If we could go
>over and stop the other ship."
TOM: Stop the other ship? Wow, what a concept!
> To his surprise Data's communicator replied. "Wouldn't work. You can't
>transport through shields."
CROW: Yeah, it's an unknown ship, so of *course* they use the exact same
technologies we do.
> "But I could fly over there." He suggested.
> "In hard vacuum?" The communicator asked.
> "Sure. I can stand hard vacuum."
MIKE: Apparently so can everybody else. Ever notice they never beam down to a
planet wearing anything besides their spiffy uniforms?
> "But what are you going to do then? You can't tear the ship apart with
>your bear hands," It explained.
> "But if I could bring Data with me. We should crash its computers or
>something," He replied.
CROW: You can tell he's really planning ahead, can't you?
> "That may be a possibility," Data said.
> "I inform the Captain then. Laforge out."
> "Come on Data," He said grabbing his Superman costume. "We have a ship
>to save."
ALL [singing]: Off we go, into the wild black yonder...
>
> Clark, in his Superman suit, was fiddling with an oxygen tank
MIKE: Huh? A minute ago I thought he said he could stand hard vacuum?
TOM: Is Superman turning into Superchicken?
> while
>Data grabbed an extra communicator and a Phaser compression Rifle from the
>utility rack. Data pinned the communicator on Clark's chest. "This will
>enable us to talk in the vacuum," He said, "just try to speak normally and
>the communicator will do the rest."
> He turned to the shuttlebay controls and altered the force field. "The
>force field will allow us through, the ships shields will do the same. The
>rest is up to you." Another Explosion rocked though the ship. Clark
>Positioned data on his back with the android holding his cape.
CROW: Data going on a piggyback ride. Sounds charming, doesn't it?
> "Lets go," He flew through the field and suddenly they were both
>engulfed in space. Data consulted his tricorder. Clark heard Data's
>comments almost inside his ears.
> "The ship is approximately one thousand kilometres away."
> Clark did the calculations. "That'll take about two minutes," He said,
>or thought he said. Not being able to hear himself speak because to the
>vacuum. He took a breath from the tank and sped for the ship in the
>distance. It was about a minute before Data gave a warning message.
> "It appears that the ship has a weapons lock on us." Clark moved
>himself into a position, putting himself between the ship and Data. "They
>are firing."
TOM: They hit us. We're dead.
> The beam struck Clark with a force that nearly winded him. He
>had never felt that way since he met Doomsday, and heat that made him
>uncomfortable. He banished bad thoughts.
> "Are you all right?" Data asked politely.
> Clark spoke. "Yeah. I'm just a little winded that's all," He flew up to
>speed again.
CROW: Plot point. Plot point. Plot point.
TOM [alarm noise]: Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
>
> "Damage report!" Picard demanded.
> "Warp core offline. All systems on auxiliary power," Geordi reported.
> "We'll never do any damage with us like this," Riker said in dismay.
> "Sir I may have an answer," Worf spoke up. "The unknown vessels shields
>appear to be unaffected by phasers, but they appear to allow solid objects
>through them."
TOM: And you figured this out, how...?
> "Photon Torpedos," Riker said quickly.
> "All available power to torpedo systems," Picard ordered.
> "Aye sir," Worf replied. "With power at current levels only one torpedo
>may fired at a time."
>Picard mentally pictured photon torpedos being loaded into the launcher.
CROW: Folks, for a change, I'm *not* going to comment on that.
MIKE [patting Crow on the head]: Good robot!
>"Fire."
>
> Clark held on the ships hull. "The ship is approximately one kilometre
>in diameter and is circular in shape," Data Observed, "the Enterprise has
>fired a photon torpedo." Clark held on as the ship started to shift
>position. "This ship is apparently making evasive manures," Data said, a
>bit wryly, Clark thought.
> SLAM! The torpedo stuck the ships hull and exploded. Uncomfortably
>close to Data and Clark. "That was close," Clark breathed.
>
> "Direct Hit. The Ship is listing," Worf Reported proudly
> "Well Done Mr. Worf. Prepare to fire again."
MIKE: Android-superhero roast is no concern of ours.
TOM: Why? Why does no one have a functioning brain in this fanfic?!
CROW: I told you. The author Just Doesn't Care (tm).
>
> Clark looked at the hull. "How are we going to get inside?"
>Data Waved his tricorder around. "I believe there's an access port to your
>left. About three metres."
> Clark found the port and forced it. He looked inside, "It's welded
>shut," He said. He punched at the weld. It dented slightly. He hit it
>harder. It dented a little more. He checked it with his X-Ray vision.
>"It's going to take forever to punch my way through here," He said. Data
>checked the weld.
> "The phaser will be ineffective, however there is an indication that
>the material is susceptible to infra-red radiation."
MIKE: See, they *do* have functioning brains -- how else would they make these
incredible leaps of logic?
> "Heat Vision."
> "That is correct."
> Clark fired his heat vision at the weld. After about ten seconds, the
>metal began to buckle. "I think I can force it now," He smashed the weld
>again. It moved. He looked at Data. An unanswered question in his eyes.
> Data answered it. "No indications of life inside."
TOM: No indication of life in author.
MIKE: Hey, you're not supposed to personally attack the author!
TOM: Sorry, that was the beer talking.
> He smashed at the
>weld again. The ship lurched badly. Clark almost lost his grip. "Another
>torpedo," Data explained.
> They were inside. A force field had covered the weld to stop the
>escaping of atmosphere.
MIKE: Convenient Plot Device #273.
> "If there is no life in here,' Clark commented.
>"Why is there force fields keeping the atmosphere in?"
> "Perhaps the ships systems require it," Data postulated. Clark looked
>around.
> "Looks like the inside of one of Mongul's ships," He observed.
> "Mongul? Ah yes - from your adventures; He was the leader of a moving
>planet known as War World..."
MIKE: You know, I'd never guess Data was such a comics fanatic.
> "Data," Clark politely interjected.
> "Yes?"
> "We don't really have time to be going over my 径dventures.'"
> "Yes. I apologise."
TOM: Looks like Data *is* a fanboy. Er...fan-bot?
>
> "We have been hit. Inertial Dampers offline. Auxiliary power offline."
>Worf said, reeling from another blow to the ship.
> Picard grimly looked at the flickering view screen. "All hands, prepare
>to abandon ship."
CROW [Picard]: I don't want you to see me curled up in a corner, sobbing.
>
> "I believe there may be a computer access node along this corridor,"
>Data informed Clark.
>"Al right. Lets take a look," Just as they began to walk in that
>direction, six - things turned the corner and fired immediately.
TOM: Six *what*?
MIKE: Oh, just six things. What they are isn't important.
> Data
>just managed to dive out of the way before a beam of energy struck. He
>crouched behind a bulkhead, occasionally firing his phaser rifle. Clark
>stood as the beams bounced of him without effect. He looked at them with
>his X-ray vision. He saw nothing but circuits and servo's.
TOM: [different voices] Hi, Supes! Hi, Supes! Hi, Supes!
> He turned to
>where Data was crouching. "They're machines, I'll go take them out." He
>rushed up to one and slammed his fist into it. It continued to struggle
>with his fist still buried in its torso. He smashed it again in its face
>and it went limp. He threw it of his arm into another one knocking it to
>the ground.
MIKE: Must be a commercial for Domino-Bot Rally.
> Meanwhile Data had taken out another two. Phasering them with
>deadly speed and accuracy. As Clark finished off the last of the
>resistance.
TOM: Periods. Are wonderful things.
CROW: Though there are times. When commas. Or nothing at all. Work better.
> Data moved form behind the bulkhead. "I believe that we must hurry," He
>said
>
> Picard was about to give the order of evacuation when Worf Interjected
CROW: Captain...need a dry pair of pants?
>"The ship has ceased firing captain," He Reported.
>"They might just be taking their time, getting the next shot right," Riker
>warned.
> "No Sir," Worf disagreed "Operating sensors indicate that weapons have
>been taken offline."
> "Why? When they have us?" Riker Almost Exclaimed.
MIKE: They stopped firing, and these guys are complaining?!
> "I don't know Number One," The captain said. "We better take this
>chance to get the ship repaired, but keep the evacuation warning ready,
>that ships weapons systems might be reenergised at any time."
>
> Had Data not warned Clark well in advance of the shield that had been
>hastily set up around a corner. It would have been quite likely that he
>would have run straight into it. As it was they were faced with a great
>deal of opposition.
TOM: Data and Clark are faced with a great deal of opposition, tonight on the 11
o'clock news.
> Data narrowly escaped the beam of an energy weapon,
>diving for another bulk head.
CROW: KLONK! Ow.
MIKE: Try diving *behind* the bulk head next time.
> Clark made short work of the android
>security force. With Data backing him up. Clark turned to Data noting a
>long, ugly black burn slashed across his arm. "Are you okay?" He asked
>with concern.
> Data looked at the scar. "The weapon has merely damaged my exterior
>Integument. I will be fine."
TOM: There's *always* room for technobabble!
> Clark translated Data's words, in some ways Data was like Dr. Anthony
>Rodrigues or 沓ig Words' as his friends called him. Always ready with the
>Extended Vocabulary. "You mean 栗t's only a flesh wound?'" Clark asked.
CROW [English accent]: A flesh wound? Your arm's come off!
> "Yes."
> At that point. Clark and Data turned to the shield. Clark used his
>X-Ray vision to track the energy supplying the shield. The News was not
>all good.
MIKE: The News? This *has* been like watching a news report, yes.
>Data used his tricorder, and he came to the conclusions. "This shield is
>drawing the bulk of the ships power." He reported.
CROW: Oh, yes, shields are so much more important then moving around, or
landing, or anything.
TOM: *Everybody's* got screwy priorities around here.
> Clark nodded. "At least they don't have the energy to fire on the
>Enterprise any more," He commented, looking around, "But it might not be
>long until they send enough androids not to need that shield."
> Like a prophecy come true. Androids came pouring though the corridors.
MIKE: Ah, the good ol' self-fulfilling prophecy.
CROW: Kinda like Johnny Carson and the toilet-paper shortage.
MIKE: Huh?!
>Weapons in hand. Clark used his body to try in shield Data from the
>withering energy bursts. "I believe we will need to deactivate the
>shield," Data said behind him.
> "Give me your phaser!" Clark shouted above the din of weapons fire.
>Using both the phaser and his heat vision, he melted and burned his way
>through the host. Their numbers dwindled. The rest moved back to
>defensible positions. Clark handed the phaser back to Data. While still
>shielding the android, he turned to the shield. He thought for a moment,
>then began to pound it with both fists as fast as he could, not giving the
>systems enough time to compensate. Data fired the rifle at the opposing
>forces. The shield began to weaken. Clark doubled his efforts. The shield
>broke.
TOM: Folks, I'd like to point out once again the author's masterful command of
riveting action narrative.
MIKE: Oh, really.
TOM: Yeah, I'd *like* to, only he doesn't *have* any.
> He flung himself and Data behind yet another convenient bulkhead
CROW: Isn't that conveEEEEEEEenient.
>and caught his breath. Data had, however, begun to work. "This is the
>access port," He explained.
> More weapons fire surrounded them. "I'll take the Phaser again while
>you work," Data handed the compression rifle over and started pulling
>tools out of an engineering pack he had. Clark Stood up and continued to
>destroy the surrounding enemy.
MIKE: Makes you feel really sorry for the surrounding enemy, doesn't it?
>Data pulled the access hatch off, and inserted various tools into the
>different ports, while looking continuously at his tricorder.
> Meanwhile Reinforcements had arrived from both sides, and were slowly
>closing in on Clark. "How are we doing?" He asked.
> "I have access to the main computer. However it will take a few minutes
>to decrypt the command functions,"
> Clark fired the phaser at one group and his heat vision at the other,
>the electronic corpses piled up as they fell to the power of Superman, but
>still they closed.
TOM: Closed-minded, are they?
> "Data! I can't hold them off!" He shouted.
> "The decryption sequence will take several minutes..." Data started.
> "We don't have several minutes!" Clark interrupted.
>A stray energy bolt struck the bulkhead uncomfortably close to Data's
>head, leaving a sizeable hole in it. Data considered the hole. "I will
>endeavour to quicken the pace of decryption," He said quickly, working
>furiously.
CROW: Yes, tell us that you're going to hurry, and as slowly as possible.
> They continued to close. Clark's eyes were getting tired. He was
>feeling uncomfortably hot. The phaser sparked and then exploded in his
>hands at it was hit by an energy bolt. He used his heat vision, cutting
>great swaths though the approaching host,
MIKE: Huh? The Host? Jack Perkins is approaching?
> but still they closed.
> Data called out, "I have access to the ships security subroutine.
TOM: It's written in BASIC. Just take out the `gosub' here, and voila...
>Deactivating security forces," He punched the controls of the tricorder.
> The horde of androids stopped. Then slowly toppled over. Inert. Clark
>let out an explosive breath. His ears pounding at the sudden silence.
>"That could have got dicey."
> "I will now decrypt the ships command functions."
CROW: Still using ZIPCRACK in the 24th century, eh?
>
> Everyone on board the Enterprise worked furiously to get the ship's
>defences together.
> Jean-Luc looked at the command chair status display. He saw that
>auxiliary power was back online and that they had shields at about
>fourteen per cent.
> Just then he felt Worf almost convulse at his station. "Sir the ships
>weapons systems are back online. They are firing," He reported.
> Jean-Luc looked at the view screen with dismay as a beam shot towards
>the ship.
> The ship shook as it struck. The lights dimmed.
TOM: The music played louder.
> The aft science station
>exploded in a shower of sparks. Worf recovered enough to report,
>"Auxiliary power offline. Shields are down."
> "Right back where we started, only worse," Riker muttered in chagrin.
>
> Data made the final decryption commands. "I have access to all ship
>functions. He looked at the tricorder. They have fired on the Enterprise,
>she is badly crippled."
MIKE: Hold on. Is someone talking or not?
> "Shut down the weapons."
> "I have done so."
> "Can you crash the ships computer?" Clark asked.
> Data shook his head. "The computer system is to well designed to crash.
>It is quite an achievement really."
CROW: They knew fanfic authors would get inspiration from _Independence Day_.
TOM: Presuming it ever had any inspiration in the first place!
> "What can we do then?"
MIKE: Tuck our heads between our legs and kiss our butts good-bye?
> "I can initiate the self destruct sequence, however the Enterprise may
>be to close."
> "We only have a short time. Initiate self destruct while I worry about
>the Enterprise."
CROW: Quick, man, I gotta go really bad.
> Data pushed a few controls on his tricorder and nodded. "We have twenty
>minutes."
> Clark didn't waste a second. He quickly picked Data up and rushed
>though their entry point. He sped back to the Enterprise moving as fast as
>he could.
[ TOM hums the Blue Danube ]
> After what seemed an eternity they reached an airlock which Data
>opened with his tricorder.
> He stuffed Data in. "I'm going back to move that ship," He said, and
>before Data could protest, He was off back to the ship. He reached the
>hull. Pushed the inert ship with all his might. He strained and muscled,
>as the ship began to move.
TOM: Uh...exactly what is holding the ship back from moving in the first place?
CROW: And what is Supes pushing off from to move the ship?
MIKE: And isn't it a bit too late to be worrying about these things now?
> He ticked off the minutes in his head. Hoping
>that he had not miscalculated. He pushed with every ounce to strength he
>had. Every muscle fibre strained against the massive weight. The ship
>slowly gained speed. The vibration of the hull announced his
>miscalculation.
CROW: As did the moistening of his ruby-red shorts.
> He pushed off the hull and tried his best to get away, but
>he was to late. The ship exploded outward in a titanic shockwave. He was
>wringed by crushing forces and blistered by huge temperatures. He lost
>consciousness.
TOM: And he died, and so did everybody else. The end.
>
> Captain Jean-Luc Picard faced the shockwave as it approached the
>hopelessly crippled Enterprise. The brave ship's thrusters moaned as they
>were strained beyond their limits. Yet she seemed barely to move as the
>wave rolled on. The hull shone as it reflected the light that would soon
>engulf it. He wondered at the beauty of the sight as he thought during
>what could be his last minutes.
MIKE: Namely, thinking `What was the name of that evil robot guy, again?
Henshaw? Crenshaw?'
> Then the wave overtook the ship. The ship
>bounced through forces her thrusters could not fight. Her damaged inertial
>dampers barely protected her crew as they bounced around as the shook and
>twisted. The temperature rose, threatening to bake the hull off the ship.
>Picard shook with his ship, gritting his teeth and hoping to hold her
>together though sheer force of will. He heard Will Riker mutter. "Come
>on Enterprise, hold together."
> Then suddenly, as quickly as it had started, the shaking stopped.
MIKE: What?
TOM: That's it?!
CROW: Come on!
> The
>shockwave moved on, leaving the Enterprise shaken,
TOM: Not stirred.
> but intact. Sounds of
>relief and joy were heard on the bridge.
MIKE: Sheesh, didn't at least a vase fall on the floor, or something?
> Picard turned to the junior
>officers. They turned quiet. Then, Jean-Luc smiled, and the elation
>restarted. Worf turned to the view screen and saw something floating
>outside. He recognised the shape. "Captain," He pointed.
> Picard turned to Lieutenant Worf. He saw Worf looking at the view
>screen. He turned to look. There, floating though naked space; Was
>Superman. His cape was gone, and his suit was badly singed. He looked
>Dead. "Mr. Worf get a team out there. Now!"
TOM: Okay, let's get outta here, ourselves.
MIKE: Gladly!
>
>--
>-- Can't think of a good sig..................................sorry--
[ Mike picks up Tom, all exit ]
o...2...3...4...5...6.../
[ commercials--by the brilliant television producers at NexTel ]
--
Matthew Miller -- mattm (at) infinet (dot) com