MiSTed - "Royal & Prime Directives" (Marrissa Stories) 4/8
Bill Livingston
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>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen...@earthlink.net>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 7/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories)
TOM: 7/16! Seven of Nine's shy, bucktoothed cousin!
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CROW: [writing] Abuse at earth...
MIKE: I don't think that'll work for us.
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>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 7/16 Serialized Biweekly
TOM: The Perils of Pauline!
CROW: Commander Cody!
MIKE: Six Gun Justice!
TOM: The Kooky Antics of Martin Sussex!
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
TOM: You know, when Hollywood gets around to filming this, it'll be a teen
sex comedy set in Victorian England starring Nelly and Dame Judi Dench.
>Chapter Six: Sewers and Siblings.
>
CROW: Or, "Dinner With the Kennedy Family".
> Prince Avery was pacing outside his mother's rooms.
MIKE: I don't want to say Prince Avery's fat, but when he paces around
the rooms, he paces *around* the rooms!
>The doctor was still attending to the Queen, and only his father had
>been let inside.
TOM: [Bouncer] Hey, you're not on the list.
MIKE: [Avery] But I'm the prince!
TOM: [Bouncer] You're breakin' my heart. Beat it 'fore I bust your
kneecaps!
> He was worried about his mother. She had been so weak
>and sick lately. He did not want to lose her.
CROW: Which is why he had the tracking chip implanted in her skull.
> So he paced, waiting
>for any news, never straying far from the door.
TOM: Hanging around, pestering everyone, making a nuisance of himself.
> "Avery, could you sit down and stop pacing?" Lady Hayley said,
>from her seat on the bench next to the door.
MIKE: [Hayley] You're making me even dizzier than I normally am!
> "I think you've torn a
>hole in the carpet already."
> Avery looked down, to discover that where he had been turning
>there was a small rip in the carpet.
CROW: It's kooky 'cause it's minor wear and tear!
> "Oh boy, another hole in carpet,
TOM: Well, it matches the one in the plot.
>and this time I can't blame it on my little sister."
MIKE: There's the "random street mugging" form of delivering exposition
we love from Stephen!
> "Little sister? How come I haven't seen Princess Brittany?"
>Lady Hayley asked.
CROW: She's been moping around her room ever since she broke up with
Count Justin of Timberlake!
> "She should have been at court, shouldn't she
>have?"
> "Britt hasn't attend court in two years," Avery said.
TOM: Oops. She *didn't* do it again.
>She's off at Arm studying swordsmanship and tactics under Duke Nolan.
TOM: He's also teaching her how to throw a wicked fastball.
>Perhaps you saw Squire Brett when the Duke visited your mother's court
>a couple months ago?"
MIKE: [Hayley] No, but I saw Brett Somers on a "Match Game 74" rerun
a few days ago. Does that help?
> "That was her?" Hayley responded. "I never would have
>guessed."
TOM: [Hollywood Squares fanfare] BadaDAHdadaDAHdahdahdahDATdahdahDAaaaah!
MIKE: Brett's the Secret Squire! She's good for a trip to Mexico!
> "She's got Father wrapped around her little finger," Avery
>said, sitting down beside Hayley.
TOM: Must be some kinda new chiropractic therapy.
> "When I started sword lessons at
>eight, she started a week after me, even though she was only seven.
CROW: She even started shaving a week after I did!
>Britt wants to do everything I do, and do it better if possible.
MIKE: Either Marrissa's found a kindred spirit, or she'll have to kill
her as a rival for power.
>And she's really pretty good, though not as good as I am.
CROW: The story's message: Hard work and determination are no match
for slackish meandering.
> Father
>encouraged her, much to the court's dismay. Especially after she
>started to wear her sword to court.
TOM: She was cited for contempt 29 times in 3 hours.
> Then Father asked her what she
>wanted for her twelfth birthday.
MIKE: She wanted a starship.
> When she replied to be a knight,
>they came up with a plan for her to pose as a boy, and she's been
>living at Arm since."
MIKE: Well, you gotta hand it to her.
TOM: Yep, she's got her finger on the pulse of the nation.
CROW: And she's not gonna knuckle under.
> "Does Duke Nolan know?" Hayley asked.
TOM: I hope so. They've been married since she was eight!
> "Yes," Avery replied. "Britt thinks the Duke is giving her
>too many favors. Especially after she was made his personal squire.
MIKE: [Avery] She keeps complaining that he makes her sleep in her
uniform. With him. Not sure why she mentioned that...
TOM: It's TWO! TWO! Two kinks in one!
>I'll have to let you read her letter after she got that post. Father
>was quite amused by it.
CROW: [Avery] Course, Dad's amused by "Jackass", too, so...
> Especially since she complained about all the
>work just a paragraph later."
MIKE: [Avery] She keeps complaining about having to work with someone
called "Filthy Sanchez".
> The door to the queen's rooms slid open, revealing the King.
CROW: Wearing the Queen's robes.
>Prince Avery and Lady Hayley stood immediately, Lady Hayley offering a
>curtsy.
TOM: [Hayley] Have a curtsy, sir?
MIKE: [King] No thanks! I've just had twelve.
> "Hayley, you're almost family now,
TOM: [King] Seeing as how you have no choice but to marry my son
and all!
> you can stop doing that
>outside of public functions," the King said.
CROW: [King] Around here, you prostrate yourself. Now hop to!
> "Can I see Mother, now, Father?" Avery asked.
TOM: [King] No, we're seeing what happens if we put her in the
cloaking device.
> "The Doctor has ordered her to rest, but you can talk to her
>after dinner, Avery," the King replied. "Walk with me."
MIKE: If I could walk that way I wouldn't *need* a doctor.
> Hayley
>remained by the door, as Avery moved to follow his father. "You too,
>Hayley. So, Avery, how was court?"
TOM: [Enthused] It was great fun! I had everyone put to death!
> "Lots of work," Avery replied. "I hope I wasn't overstepping
>my bounds when I made a few decisions, Father."
MIKE: Well, he kinda told you to, kid.
TOM: [King] After I told you to run things, you go and run things!
You're no son of mine!
> "Aside from perhaps the Avtra case, there wasn't too much you
>could do wrong, Avery," the King said.
CROW: [King] You really *blew* that Avtra case, by the way.
> "I won't second guess your
>decisions.
MIKE: [King] I'll just countermand them behind your back.
> So, how did you solve that case?"
CROW: Shaggy pulled off the Baron's mask and showed us he was really
old Mr. Vernon from the mill.
TOM: Jeepers.
> "I told the Baron that the move was temporary,
CROW: And Baron von Dumbkowski bought it.
> and ordered the
>Earl to put the Baron on the top of the list for the guard post when
>the canal opens in about twenty years," Avery said.
MIKE: That's working things out ahead of schedule.
CROW: They learned their lesson from dealing with their Y2C problem.
> "I also had it
>designated as the mid point guard post, as it is about the mid point,
>if you only count the length inside Avtra."
TOM: "Law and Order: Special Guardpost Measuring Unit".
> "That canal could be trouble down the road," the King said.
>"Watch in carefully.
CROW: [King] Measure it every day. Set up guardposts every three feet
if you have to!
> Avtra and Castrome have nearly gone to war
>several times over lesser problems."
MIKE: Yeah, remember that one border incident?
CROW: The one caused by the softball through Mrs. Callaghan's window?
TOM: Or the one because of the armadillos?
MIKE: I was thinking about the time that one guy forgot to tape "24".
TOM: Oh, yeah. Boy, that was a bad one, wasn't it?
> "I know Father," Avery said as they reached his father's
>office.
CROW: [Avery] I read the Cliff Notes.
> The King unlocked the door, and proceeded them in. Avery once
>had dreaded his father's office. It was painted black,
TOM: What, without even *seeing* a red door?!
> even the
>ceiling, with a silver pattern on the wall, and irregular outline that
>Avery had tried to find a pattern in, when ever he was waiting for his
>father's punishment.
MIKE: Oh, that's just the outlines of all the crewmen who tried to stop
him that he had vaporized.
CROW: Yeah, pay it no mind.
> In the center was his father's heavy dark wood
>desk. It was one of the few things that had made it's way to Odyssey
>when the Capital had moved from Verifor.
MIKE: Wow, sentient, self-propelled furniture. No wonder York decided
to stick around.
> His father took his place
>behind the desk, and Avery and Hayley sank into the comfortable chairs
>on the other side.
TOM: They proceeded to pull out their handy-dandy notebooks and
crayons.
> You could tell how the conversation was going to
>go by which chairs were in the room.
CROW: They got a guy, Gary, full-time on the castle payroll - does
nothing but move chairs around all day.
> Avery was fairly sure that he
>wasn't going to be chewed out.
CROW: However, beatings, torture, and wedgies were still an option.
> "Avery, the doctor has given your mother a month to live,"
TOM: [King] And a bill for $5000.
> "No!" Avery exclaimed, standing up.
CROW: [Avery] We can't afford $5000!
TOM: [King] That's okay, he'll give her another month.
> "You can't let this
>happen!"
CROW: [King] Oh, like it's *my* fault.
> "Sit down," the King ordered. "Despite what you may think,
>people don't have to go to me for permission to die,
MIKE: That's what HMO's are for!
> and I can't stop
>death.
CROW: That's *my* domain.
MIKE: No it isn't.
CROW: Well it *should* be.
> There is nothing I can do about your mother's health, save
>getting the best doctors Ellosia has,
CROW: They insist on only the *finest* quality leeches!
> and insisting that she rest.
MIKE: [King] And scope out replacements.
>You know how hard it is to get her to rest, and as for the best
>doctors,
TOM: [King] You can hang *that* up!
> there is only one in Ellosia better than Doctor Anderson, and
>that's your Mother. She can't treat herself."
MIKE: Why not? This isn't Earth! Hippocratic Oath, Schmippocratic
Oath!
CROW: Yeah, who do you think she is, Abigail Bartlet?
> "If it weren't for you stupid Prime Directive, she would be
>well already," Avery said.
TOM: [Avery] And we'd have a space program and cable and I'd have a Beemer!
> "Perhaps, perhaps not," the King said. "There is no sense
>second guessing decisions made before your were born.
CROW: That kind of attitude could put soc.history.what-if out of business.
> You just have
>to live with the consequences.
MIKE: Yes, if it's an old, ill-informed decision with life-threatening
consequences, it can't possibly be wrong.
TOM: Changing things? That's for suckers and wussies!
> Your mother wants to see you married,
>and I intend to do everything possible to make sure she does.
CROW: [King] I had cable installed, and I've sold broadcast rights to E!
>Therefore, I'm moving up your wedding to nine days from now.
>I realize that's a short time to prepare for the rest of your life,
>Avery, Hayley, but it's the time you've been given.
TOM: They're gonna plan a whole royal wedding in nine days?! Give me
a break! That's not even enough time to pick out the flowers!
MIKE: Well, it helps move things along when your monarchy is absolute.
> Now if you'll
>excuse me, I'm expecting the Ambassador from Dinath."
TOM: That'll be a tough delivery.
> Avery and Hayley took that dismissal, and exited the room,
>passing by a servant bringing in one of the hard straight backed
>chairs.
CROW: Once again, ladies and gentlemen - Gary!
[All applaud]
> Avery nearly ran into the servant, his fists balled in
>frustration and anger
>
MIKE: [Avery] Stupid old man! Who died and made him king? Oh, wait...
> Later in the week, Marrissa and Calgary left the Golden
>Rinnebeast through the back exit.
TOM: Hair tousled, uniforms askew...
> By that door was a sewer access, a
>rough wooden board in a square metal frame. Calgary lifted it,
>revealing a ten foot drop to a shallow stream of sewage.
CROW: The world's worst Bungee Jumping exhibition!
> A ladder ran
>down one side, so they'd be able to come back up this way.
MIKE: Or even go down that way, if they wanted.
TOM: On the same ladder? No way!
> "Now let me get this straight, we're going to follow the sewer
>to it's source to try to find how they're handling it," Marrissa said.
TOM: With gloves, I hope! Yuck!
> "Yes, if they're using the Odyssey's waste extraction systems,
>we've got a Prime Directive violation.
MIKE: I don't want to say the city has a sewage problem, but when they
used the starship's plasma venting coils, they *really* used the
plasma venting coils!
BOTS: Huh?
MIKE: Uh - um - oh, look! Words!
> So far," Calgary said. "I
>haven't found any major ones,
TOM: Apart from taking over the country.
> and the minor differences are well
>within the expected variations in technical development."
MIKE: [Calgary] Although I still wonder about that holodeck they built
out of straw and tar.
> "Okay, I've got the lights, so as soon as I take off my pants,
>we'll get going," Marrissa said,
CROW: Oh, well sure, you gotta - tha hell?!?
> pulling off her pants,
TOM: [Calgary] Marrissa, are you sure? I mean we just met.
CROW: Mike? We're not getting the setup for a scene where Marrissa
becomes a woman, are we?
MIKE: I certainly hope not.
> leaving her
>only clad in her tunic, which went down just far enough to be decent,
>barely.
CROW: Now she's ready for her "Maxim" cover shoot.
> "I'm not going get sewage stains on my pants, if I can help it."
TOM: [Marrissa] I'll just cake my bare legs in it up to my thighs.
CROW: [Marrissa] And now that I think about it, this bra is itching me
something awful!
MIKE: Crow!
CROW: Stephen started it!
MIKE: Yes but... but... well... *sigh* I don't guess I can argue with you
there.
> "I'd be more worried about what comes from above," Calgary
>said, putting his tunic beside her pants.
CROW: So, is he going to be doing handstands through the sewage?
MIKE: Steve's plot is running through non-Euclidean space here.
> "I'll go first, and then
>you can hand the lamps down to me."
>
CROW: [Calgary] Then the end tables, then the area rug.
TOM: Uh, considering the fact that they're shucking off all their
clothes, I'd avoid using the word "area" for a while.
> Captain Lord Trevor had Castrome Point in his sight.
CROW: The time was approaching. Soon, the ferrets would be unleashed!
> Once he
>was beyond that, Castromepor would be just an hour away, and in clear
>view.
MIKE: It's the Thruway Rest Stop of Castrome.
> His vessel was traveling at full sail, a good knot above the
>speed most of the other vessels in the Ellosian Navy were capable of.
TOM: "Snail's Pace", as opposed to "Molasses Uphill".
>Below the Ellosian Ensign he flew his family's standard, modified with
>his Captain's knots.
CROW: [Kevin Meaney] Running junior officers up the flagpole! That's
just not right!
> He was proud of his new rank, and the trust he
>had been shown by being given this important assignment.
CROW: I'm proud of my new rank!
MIKE: I'm proud of the trust I'm shown!
TOM: And he thinks about this constantly.
> If at all
>possible, he was going to bring his friend Avery's future
>sister-in-laws back to Odyssey in record time.
>
TOM: *snicker*
MIKE: [Avery] Captain, I have a very critical assignment for you -
give my in-laws a lift, will ya?
TOM: And this episode of "Pointless Interlude Theater" comes to
a close.
> Avery had just come from seeing his mother again.
MIKE: [Avery] Boy, all she ever does is nag nag nag!
> The Queen
>seemed to sink into her bed, looking so thin and frail, not at all
>like the vibrant and active mother of his childhood.
TOM: Like he can remember that far back anyway.
> It disturbed
>him, so he was planning to try to put it out of his mind.
TOM: [Avery] Mom who?
MIKE: It didn't help that folks kept saying mommy wouldn't be dying on
him if he were a better boy.
>He'd stopped briefly at his rooms to put on some older clothes,
>before heading to the stables.
TOM: [Avery] I'll go terrorize the peons. That always cheers me up!
> As usual, he used one of the security poles
>to descend down the one floor to the stables.
[Laughter]
CROW: He arrived fully attired in his Batman outfit.
MIKE: The King must have built this castle based on the designs of
his dream treehouse.
> As he strode away from
>the pole, he heard a cry of pain behind him.
TOM: Oops, there goes little Bonnie Blue Butler.
> He turned around to see his intended sprawled at the base of
>the pole, grimacing. "Are you okay?" he asked, moving to her side.
CROW: [Hayley] Yeah, I just like to fall and clutch my guts randomly
from time to time. Keeps life interesting.
> "I think so," Hayley replied, accepting Avery's assistance to
>stand. "I've never done that before."
MIKE: [Hayley] I think it's the thought of marrying you!
> "It takes practice," Avery said.
CROW: [Python] Hold your head more like this - Waah! Waah!
> "I'm really not supposed to
>use the poles.
TOM: [Avery] Cowznofksy and Stankeiwicz get upset easily.
> They're for the guards, but it's a lot faster to use
>this one to get to the stables. So where are you heading?"
MIKE: No place in particular.
CROW: Man, I wish I was you!
> Hayley blushed, and said, "I was just following you in hopes
>that you'd get back to a part of the Palace that I know."
CROW: [Hayley] Is this the part Mickey Mouse lives in?
> "Well, I can have the stable manager take you to any place you
>need to go," Avery said. "Or you can join me in my mid-morning ride."
TOM: [Hayley, calling out] Stable manager! Stable manager!
> "I can?" Hayley said. "We don't have round up some major
>guard detachment first?"
MIKE: Sure, *they* go off riding their lizards, while the poor guards
stay behind and spray the castle's weeds!
TOM: Well, it's part of their job duties, Mike - to serve, protect and
defoliate.
> "I think they gave up on that a couple years ago," Avery said.
CROW: I see "Operation Get Rid of the Idiot Heir" is proceeding along.
>"I just have to have my sword, and my fast rinnebeast."
>
MIKE: [Avery] And my posse of doe-eyed nympho maids. Say hi, girls!
BOTS: [Maids] OHAIYO!!!
> In the dungeon of Odyssey Palace, Jean-Luc Picard and his wife
>were finally getting a visitor.
MIKE: [Picard] All right, all right, we *should* have expected the
Spanish Inquisition!
> Lord Harlan had just arrived and
>dismissed the guard.
TOM: they contribute nothing to the plot, so they're easily dismissed.
> "Lieutenant Harlan Foster, I hope you've come to release us,"
>Jean-Luc said.
CROW: [Harlan] Yes, but first you have to admit my script was better
than Roddenberry's.
> "It's Lord Harlan now," he said.
TOM: Oddly, this is an exact quote from Ellison.
> "And what makes you think
>I'd release one of the biggest threats to my King."
MIKE: [Picard] How about a fresh, crisp, brand new dollar bill, hmm?
CROW: [Harlan] You guys don't use money any more!
MIKE: [Picard] Blast!
> "My threat to your King, who I believe is Captain Richard
>York, the last known Captain of the starship Odyssey, depends on his
>actions in the last twenty years," Jean-Luc said.
CROW: [Picard] For example, how are his Amway sales going?
> "Your actions
>indicate that the likelihood of a court-martial is quite high."
TOM: Yeah, *that's* gonna convince him to let you go! Good job,
Captain Sack-of-Lugnuts!
CROW: Jean-Luc appears to be using the "Please Kill Me, You
Insufferable Clod" defense.
MIKE: He's the kinda guy who thinks yelling at the waitress helps.
> "And the likelihood of you being executed for treason is even
>higher," Harlan said.
MIKE: Vegas has it at 7-5.
> "I find that quite unlikely, Lieutenant," Jean-Luc said.
CROW: [Picard] Look you moron! We can't be charged with treason!
We're not citizens! We'd be charged with spying, not treason!
TOM: [Harlan] Fine! You're spies! Thanks for confessing! GUARDS!
CROW: [Picard] Oh, poopie!
> "As long as you're in my jail, it's my odds that count,"
TOM: Ah! Nice to see that the Mob still has influence in the future!
>Harlan said. "Now how many people do you have in Ellosia?"
CROW: Well, there's Stinky, and Rey-Rey, and Big Bertha...
MIKE: And Condor, and The Kid, and Old Man Carruthers...
TOM: And Roxie, and No-Nose, and Joey the Match...
> "Just the usual for the situation," Jean-Luc replied, laying
>back on his bunk.
MIKE: [Picard] Plus my compliment of demon ninjas. Say hi, fellas!
BOTS: [Ninjas] WASSAAAAABI!!!
> "Let's see if I remember regulations...
TOM: Since you've promoted yourself from "Lieutenant" to "Lord", my
guess is that you don't.
> ah yes," Harlan began.
>"A Prime Directive investigation team must include of the Chief of
>Security, the Chief Engineer, and the First Officer, and be lead by
>the Captain.
CROW: So basically, the entire senior staff of a starship goes on a
probably dangerous, possibly life-threatening missions BY RULE?
MIKE: Need a way to put all your command crew in jeopardy? Use
Regulations!
> So, I've got at least 3 more people to track down, since
>I doubt that Jack Crusher's wife would be anything other than Chief
>Medical Officer."
CROW: She might be the ship's dancing instructor, you know.
TOM: Aaah, women don't need multifaceted personalities anyway.
> "Jack died almost seventeen years ago," Beverly said.
>"Jean-Luc and I married last year."
MIKE: Yes, just rule out suspects so that the bad guy doesn't have to
look for them. Good job, Bev.
> "I'm sorry to hear about that," Harlan said.
CROW: [Beverly] Jack wasn't real thrilled about it, either.
> "Jack was a good
>officer. I remember him from the Fleet meetings during the Cardassian
>War. I assume that's over with?"
MIKE: [Picard] Yep. We lost. The name's "Gul Picard" now, by the way.
> "We had a cease fire about a year after the Odyssey
>disappeared," Jean-Luc said. "The formal treaty was signed five years
>ago."
TOM: And then broken again during that pesky war.
> "It sure took them a long time," Harlan said.
TOM: What is this? They go from a heated confrontation to small talk?
MIKE: Once again, Ratliff narrowly averts tension!
> "You know how long some diplomatic negotiations can take,"
>Picard said.
CROW: [muttering] Almost as long as this scene!
> "Ambassador Sarek's work with the Legerans took 93 years
>to complete. In the case of the Cardassians, I think we were quite
>lucky."
MIKE: Maybe you were unlucky both times. Couldn't that be the case?
> "You may say you're lucky with the Cardassians, but I don't
>think I am," Harlan said.
TOM: He's bitter because the Cardassians stood him up on a date.
> "After all, because of them we've spent 20
>years trying not to break the rules on this planet.
CROW: And doing a piss-poor job of it, too!
> I don't even know
>what happened to my little sister who was just joining Star Fleet."
TOM: She died a horrible, screaming death. What, you didn't get the
telegram we sent?
> "She's the new Captain of the Venture," Jean-Luc said.
TOM: [Picard] That's a Ferengi garbage scow, by the way. She got kicked
out of the fleet after the Jell-O incident.
>Do you have any family here in Ellosia?"
CROW: [Harlan, sniffling] This - *This* is my family now!
MIKE: [Bester] The Corps is mother. The Corps is father.
> "No," Harlan said. "My job as Chief of Intelligence doesn't
>let me have the time to have a family.
TOM: [Harlan] I tried having a second cousin once, but it just didn't
work out.
> Not that the Queen hasn't
>tried to match me up with a promising young girl."
>
>
CROW: Her Most Royal Yentaness!
CROW: And the scene ends here - why?
MIKE: Why not? As long as it ends.
> Marrissa put another crystal in the waters of the lamp
MIKE: Crystal Waters?
TOM: o/` She put it back in the middle and round again... o/`
>before replacing the stopper. The sewers seemed to go on forever.
CROW: [Marrissa] Just because I'm Marrissa doesn't mean I have to
smell poo-gas!
> She hoped
>she had enough crystals for the glowing water lamps.
MIKE: Fuel? Nah. Better put some kryptonite in instead.
> Up ahead, she
>thought she heard someone talking.
>
TOM: Sewer Urchin!
CROW: [Urchin] Uh-oh. Trouble. Definitely, definitely trouble.
> Captain Lord Trevor passed Castrome Point, his sails full, as
>he caught the coming tide on the mouth of the Castrome. Two ships
>were moored next to the point, with their guns run out.
TOM: They'll never get his cargo load of supporting characters!
> The town of
>Castromepor was now in view. The majestic spires of Saint Ignatius
>stood visible above the town's red walled battlements.
CROW: Right next to them stood the stately Golden Arches of Lord Ronald.
> Most of the
>fleet that regularly anchored at her docks were gone, but the jewel of
>Ellosia's ports still sported several merchants and ships under
>construction,
MIKE: Repealing the luxury tax sure boosted the economy.
> including the Victorious, a ship of the line in the
>final stage of construction.
> "Mister Bracegirdle,
[All snicker]
MIKE: Bracegirdle's out today, sir. I'm his sub, Ensign Jockbuckle!
TOM: *That's* a really unfortunate name!
CROW: It's not as bad as his uncle, Lord Trussscaffold.
> weigh anchor and ready the ship's boat,"
TOM: And get the car's auto warmed up, too.
>Captain Treavor ordered. "I intend to make this a quick stop, so no
>shore leaves."
CROW: [Trevor] And if there's time, maybe I'll get a tape from
Blockbuster. *But no promises*!
> "Aye sir," Bracegirdle said. "Furl the sails!
MIKE: Mop the poopdeck! Batten down the hatches!
CROW: They're battened, sir!
MIKE: Well, batten'm down again - we'll teach those hatches!
> Prepare to
>weigh anchor!"
>
TOM: [Bracegirdle] 55 pounds, sir!
CROW: Goodbye characters we know nothing about!
> Marrissa and Calgary pressed themselves up against the side of
>the sewer tunnel
MIKE: Now they're sorry they wore their Armani tunics.
> as the voices got closer, covering their lamps.
CROW: They were really dark, heavy voices.
> "This is really an undignified way to enter the city,
>Sargent," one voice said.
TOM: It's Sargent versus York, in the Ultimate Darren Battle!
> "It is the only real way that someone of your stature can
>enter the city without being spotted, your grace," the Sargent
>replied.
MIKE: Or you could pretend to be a wandering morris dancer!
CROW: That was an old Three's Company episode.
> "Let alone sneak in the large numbers of troops your
>require."
CROW: They're invading via the *sewer*!?
TOM: Their brilliant plan is foiled when Mrs. Willoughby calls in
Dave the Plumber.
> "Personal guards, Sargent," the first voice replied.
MIKE: [Sergeant] Yeah, call 'em whatever you want, they still smell like
an Exxon restroom at this point!
> "Yes my lord," the Sargent said as the light of their lamps
>began to show around the turn.
>
TOM: Well forget about that, let's go onto something else, shall we?
> Captain Lord Trevor paused at the entry to Castrome Villa to
>show his orders to the guard.
CROW: [Trevor] Remember, 3 of them have no onions, and supersize the
one for the king.
> Despite the fact that the Royal Family
>was rarely in residence there, a rather large compliment of guards
>were posted at the fortified compound.
TOM: The orders to never open the basement doors or to ignore the
screams confused a great number of them.
> The black and scarlet guards
>had probably never seen the King,
CROW: [Clark Gable] Frankly, scarlet guard, I don't give a damn!
> Prince Avery was a more frequent
>visitor.
MIKE: To the guard's delight, however, the doe-eyed nympho maids were
there daily.
BOTS: [Maids] OHAIYO!!!
> It took only a couple minutes for the guards to verify the
>Captain's orders
TOM: [gruff] Yeah, that's right - *three* with no onions!
> and escort him to the quarters of Lady Lea and Lady
>Whitney.
CROW: Lea Thompson and Whitney Houston star in "Bodyguard in the City".
> Trevor was surprised to find the young girls being visited
>by their father, Lord Elden, the Ducal Consort of Castrome.
TOM: Royalty? Being around their children? I'm surprised as well.
> "Lord Trevor, what brings you to Castromepor," Elden said.
CROW: [Trevor] A big honking boat, your Ducalshipness.
>"I thought the Godspeed was posted off the coast of Armedge."
MIKE: It was a longwinded era, but you were never short on exposition.
> "I have orders from the King to transport your daughters to
>Odyssey," Trevor said. "If you'd like to see them?"
MIKE: [Elden] I can see my daughters just fine, but thanks for asking.
> "No need," Elden said. "Desiree told me to expect them before
>she set off for Odyssey. I assume you wish to travel light?"
CROW: Who says he can't ride a rainbow?
> "I'd wish to, but I expect that young ladies of your
>daughters' eminence require a considerable accompaniment," Trevor
>replied.
CROW: Girls! Pack the piano! He expects it!
TOM: Hundreds of trunkloads of Lip Gloss, unicorn posters and N*Sync
CDs are already standing by.
> "I know the Godspeed, Captain," Elden said. "So I'll just
>send along Whitney's nanny.
CROW: [Fran Drescher] Oooh, Mistah Sheffield, hahahahahah!!!
> Lea can do without a tutor for a while.
TOM: [Elden] Yeah, it's not like she can get any stupider. Can she?
>And we'll keep the luggage down to a chest of clothes."
MIKE: [Whitney] I only need the one trunk of clothes - oh, and my
troop of male strippers. Say hello, boys.
BOTS: [Strippers] WAZAAAAAAAP!!!
> "Goodie!" Lea said.
> "Lea just started her schooling," Elden said. "We can't
>afford ignorance in the person second in line for Castrome.
MIKE: [Elden] Of course, I've done okay, and I'm dumber than a
box of wet gophers.
>I'm afraid she hasn't taken to her studies."
TOM: Well, she *is* still two.
> "There is still time," Trevor said. "I wasn't very taken with
>my studies at first."
CROW: [Trevor] I was voted "Most Likely to Eat Paint Chips for a Living".
> "I heard," Elden said. "Your father has been trading stories
>with me.
MIKE: [Elden] So you thought if you put mud in the oven it would turn
into food? Man, are you a doorknob!
CROW: [Trevor] C'mon, I was FOUR!
> Tell me, what ever possessed you to replace your tutor's
>water with yellowberry wine?
TOM: And just what kind of slack-jawed mouthbreather doesn't notice?
> "I heard he was more entertaining drunk," Trevor said. "How
>soon can your daughters be aboard the Godspeed?"
CROW: [Elden] I can have 'em loaded in the catapult in two minutes!
You, uh, you still got that net on board?
> "The chest is already packed,
TOM: [Trevor] Yes, yes, I've met the nanny already!
> so as soon as you're ready,
>we'll head down to the docks," Elden said.
MIKE: They're going up on deck to sing "Cosi, Cosa".
> "However, if you can spare
>a minute, I'd like to show off my latest design.
CROW: [Elden] Time is of the essence! But first, here's what I've
puttering around with in the old workshop.
> The Victorious is
>finally ready for launch.
TOM: [Elden] I mean lunch! The cafeteria's been built and stocked!
> As soon as the stores all arrive,
MIKE: [Elden] Macy's doesn't open until week after next.
> I'll be
>taking her out for her maiden voyage."
>
TOM: Y'know what? We just saw a 14th-century Invention Exchange!
MIKE: Hey, yeah! Think they'd be impressed if I built *them* a robot?
CROW: Mike, we discussed this - remember?
MIKE: But -
TOM: No more robot building! Get it, Nelson?!
MIKE: Okay, okay! [mumbling] Geez, blow up one lousy half of the ship,
and you're branded for life.
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>
>"To hell with crack, heroin, whiskey, tobacco.
TOM: Caffeine, sugar, carbohydrates, making whoopee...
> Writing is far and away
>the single most addictive thing in the universe, IMHO."
CROW: "IMHO"?
MIKE: International Marrissa's House of Omelets.
> ~ Greywolf
>
>Path:
>sn-us!sn-xit-01!supernews.com!129.8.52.88.MISMATCH!nntp!tethys.csu.net!
>news-hog.berkeley.edu!ucberkeley!newshub.sdsu.edu!west.cox.net!cox.net!
CROW: Then on to Wally.Cox.Net
MIKE: Over to Nikki.Cox.Net
TOM: And finally Courtney.Cox.Net
CROW: Or would it be Courtney.Cox.Arquette.Net?
>newsfeed1.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!
>stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!newstest450b.news.pas.earthlink.net.POSTED!
>not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen...@earthlink.net>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 8/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories)
CROW: Hey, we're at the halfway point!
TOM: Which only means we have to do what we've already done all over again.
CROW: Wow, you're little Mr. Bot-of-Sunshine today.
>Message-ID: <laskhu40md7nbbksr...@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.8/32.548
>MIME-Version: 1.0
>Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
>Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
MIKE: Story-Content: 2-bit.
>Lines: 381
>Date: Thu, 27 Jun 2002 02:02:38 GMT
>NNTP-Posting-Host: 63.191.160.172
>X-Complaints-To: ab...@earthlink.net
>X-Trace: newstest450b.news.pas.earthlink.net 1025143358 63.191.160.172
>(Wed, 26 Jun 2002 19:02:38 PDT)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 26 Jun 2002 19:02:38 PDT
>Organization: EarthLink Inc. -- http://www.EarthLink.net
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:159709
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 8/16 Serialized Biweekly
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
CROW: Well, he's only really been ruling in the very loosest sense
of the word.
>Chapter Seven: The First Fights.
>
MIKE: *Never* talk about First Fight Club!
> Lieutenant Calgary ran through the sewers,
CROW: o/` And he ran through the brambles and he ran through the
bushes where a rabbit couldn't go! o/`
> chased by what
>sounded like a hoard of swordsmen.
TOM: But was really just two Foley guys and some boards.
> Some where he'd been separated
>from Marrissa.
CROW: Oh, now see? There's an upside to every situation.
> The last he had seen of her, she'd taken a cut to her
>tunic along the left side and dodged past the swordsman, heading
>downstream.
MIKE: She was at the 40, the 30, the 20 - she *could* *go* *all* *the*
*way*!
> He hadn't been so lucky, going back up stream. If he
>didn't find a quick way up soon he was going to end up trapped when
>the tunnels got smaller. Already he could feel the walls closing in.
>
CROW: If there's a garbage compactor monster in there, I'm gonna scream.
> Captain Lord Trevor took his post beside the wheel of the HMS
>Godspeed.
TOM: Odd place for an Internet terminal.
> She was raising her sails and preparing to leave the mouth
>of the river Castrome. The great white sails dropped down as the
>anchor was reported to have been brought aboard.
CROW: Duke Stone of Phillips is piped onto the ship.
> She wasn't the only
>ship preparing to leave harbor. The ships moored near the point where
>also active.
MIKE: They're just looking busy until the boss stops checking on them.
> "Mr. Bracegirdle,
TOM: [Trevor] Cinch it up and get over here!
MIKE: [Trevor] And change your name - the cabin boys won't stop giggling!
> what do you make of the two ships at the
>point?" Lord Trevor asked of his able First Mate.
CROW: [Bracegirdle] Is this one of those "One hand clapping" questions, sir?
TOM: [Trevor] Shut up, Bracegirdle.
CROW: [Bracegirdle] Shutting up, sir!
> Mr. Bracegirdle pulled out his glass
TOM: Ah, the *real* first mate - sweet, sweet booze!
> and examined the ships.
>"They appear to be putting to sail, sir. They're also manning the
>guns."
MIKE: [Bracegirdle] Or they're gunning the men. I'm not sure.
> "And what do they fly?" Lord Trevor asked.
MIKE: [Bracegirdle] United, I think
TOM: [Trevor] HA! We got 'em now, boy!
> "The ensign of the Duke of Fasstime, sir," Bracegirdle said as
>he put his glass away.
TOM: It's Phoebe Cates' bikini top!
CROW: Now *there's* something to pledge allegiance to! *grrrrrrwl*
> "Order the Ladies bellow, Mr. Bracegirdle," Lord Trevor said.
MIKE: [Bracegirdle] Well, they don't really bellow, they just kind of
shriek a little bit.
>"Once we're under sail, man the guns. I have a feeling we're not
>getting out of this without a fight."
>
TOM: [Ali] I want Duke Frazier! I want Duke Frazier!
CROW: They will fight nobly to defend whatever the heck they're doing.
> A gust of wind filled the ensigns of the two ships off
>Castrome Point.
CROW: When Pavel Chekov has that bloated gassy feeling, he reaches
for Gaviscon.
> It was all the Ducal Consort needed. Lord Elden had
>feared this.
TOM: Stephen's passing off a low pressure system as an action sequence.
> The Castrome Fleet wasn't due in for another day,
MIKE: That's what he gets for not shipping UPS.
CROW: The Brown can save your kingdom, too.
>and his daughters were now in danger from two enemy ships in his own
>harbor. Fortunately, the HMS Victorious was ready ahead of schedule.
>It was Tuesday,
CROW: So this must be Belgium.
> and two Fasstime Frigates were about to feel the might
>of a ship of the line.
>
TOM: So what's Captain Morgan Bateson doing there?
> A plume of spray rose in front of the Godspeed. "They have
>our range, Captain!" Bracegirdle informed.
MIKE: [Bracegirdle] And they're coming back for our fridge and blender!
> "Prepare to return fire as we pass by," Lord Trevor ordered.
CROW: [Bracegirdle] Sorry, sir, we lost the receipt.
TOM: [Trevor] Blast it, man! Check your wallet again!
>"Helm 6 points to starboard.
TOM: They scored a touchdown!
> We're faster than them, if we can get
>past them, we'll be fine.
>
MIKE: Bravely, the veteran naval officer runs away like a woman.
CROW: Thirty seconds later...
TOM: [Trevor] OHMYGOD! WEREGONNADIE! WEREGONNADIE!! WEREGONNADIE!!!
> The Victorious left dock in record time.
TOM: They laid skid marks in the harbor.
> Her 52 guns were
>primed and ready for the engagement
MIKE: Twenty weeks on Broadway!
> against the ships that dared fire
>on her Captain's daughters' ship. Above her second mast flew the
>ensign of her Captain,
CROW: Harry Kim, you get right down from there!
> the Crimson Latin Cross of Castrome quartered
>with the Green Celtic Cross of Avtra.
TOM: It's a lot of marginally relevant detail, but it does pad the story.
> This day two ships had earned
>the ire of three dukedoms.
MIKE: And four dukedoms had scorned the ire of three ships!
TOM: And four ships from three dukes had ired two ships from two dukedoms'
three dukes!
CROW: And three ships, two dukes and a rabbi walk into a bar and, and -
oh, blast, I lost it.
> And the regent of Castrome was planning to
>do his own dirty work today.
>
CROW: He's remaking a Norm McDonald movie? He's mad, I tell you!
> A spar and some rigging fell at Lord Trevor's feet. The
>Godspeed had just lost her mizzen mast top gallant.
MIKE: Now Ratliff's just making words up!
TOM: [Trevor] You there! Steady the mildefot! You! Turn the
fazzostile 18 degrees to the left! And you! Keep an eye on
that twizzelwacker!
> "We've lost some
>speed, Captain," Mr. Bracegirdle said.
TOM: [Bracegirdle] We're just Cherubspeed now.
> "The wind is more favorable to them."
CROW: Stupid wind! Always taking sides and stuff!
> "Understood, hard to port," Lord Trevor ordered. "Take us in
>close. Ready starboard guns. Aim for the waterline.
MIKE: [Trevor] They're leaving a ring around the bathtub, gentlemen!
> Fire as we pass!"
TOM: [Trevor] Brace all girdles!
MIKE: [Bracegirdle] Very funny, sir.
> The first shot went high, taking out the top gallant of the
>first ship.
MIKE: The goofus, however, was completely unscathed.
> The second fell short, but the third hit hard, right into
>the middle of the at the base of it's main mast.
TOM: Gah! Stevie overloaded his word processor!
> The fourth hit just
>above the waterline.
MIKE: Suddenly a pirate ship appeared on the horizon.
> The Godspeed's fifth shot missed cleanly.
CROW: It's the world's first completely itemized naval battle!
>In the interim, the Godspeed's mizzen mast was shortened by a third.
MIKE: I'm guessing Steve got some CS Forrester books for a gift.
> "Mr. Bracegirdle, what do make our opponents?"
TOM: Probably some shipwrights and lumberjacks, sir.
> "The Abigail and the Lady Rose both out of Arlipor, sir,"
>Bracegirdle said. "28s."
CROW: They're being hit on by a couple of 28 year-old chicks?
TOM: Awwww yeeeeeah...
> "We're outgunned by a little more than 4 to 1, but they're
>aiming for capture, Mr. Bracegirdle," Lord Trevor said. "Fortunately,
>I'm not so constrained.
MIKE: He refuses to capture himself!
> Ready portside cannons! I want to hull those ships!"
>
TOM: I suppose he'll be opening hulling frequencies, huh?
> On the quarter deck of the Victorious, Lord Elden pushed
>against the finely polished wooden rail,
CROW: [Snickering] Shouldn't he do that in the privacy of his quarters?
> as if he could make the ship
>close the force of his will. The crew would not bet against it.
MIKE: Of course, the crew also bet on the Clippers to clinch the NBA
title, so that doesn't say much.
>"Captain, coming into range," his Lieutenant ordered.
> "Ready the bow chasers," Lord Elden said.
TOM: That's vermouth and beer, right?
> "Then prepare for a
>full engagement.
CROW: [Elden] Call my old girlfriends and tell them it's over!
> We're going to turn those two ships into driftwood."
>
TOM: Ahhhh! Witchcraft!
> "Captain! The Victorious is out of dock and coming into
>range," Bracegirdle announced, almost shouting into his ear.
MIKE: [Captain] You don't have to shout!
CROW: [Bracegirdle] SORRY SIR. IT'S MY VOICE MODULATION SYNDROME
KICKING IN AGAIN.
> The Lady Rose turned to meet the Victorious. As she did, she
>dipped enough to bring her hole to the water.
TOM: This scene is just packed with nasty bad imagery.
> She floundered, before
>righting herself and finishing the turn.
MIKE: That's the same way my great-uncle Bert drives.
> "Close on the Abigail," Lord Trevor ordered.
TOM: [Trevor] Hurt her feelings some, if necessary.
> "We've got a
>chance now."
> The roar of the Victorious's first broadside covered
>Bracegirdle's mumbled reply.
CROW: Geez, this guy needs diction lessons.
> The Lady Rose would never recover from
>the maiden battle.
TOM: It's Chyna versus Sable! On Pay-per-view!
> From the Godspeed's view, the main mast was simply
>blown right off the ship, along with a good portion of the mizzen mast
>and her foresail.
CROW: And if any of that sounds dirty it's because you have a filthy,
filthy mind.
> The Lady Rose leaned away from the Victorious at
>first,
MIKE: The perils of bad breath.
> but then tilted back, and went completely over, keel up with
>all hands aboard in less than a minute.
TOM: The HMS Foster Brooks, ladies and gentlemen. Thought you'd like
to know.
> Meanwhile, the Godspeed had closed on the Abigail.
MIKE: John Adams is furious!
> On the
>Abigail's decks, the materials for boarding where being prepared.
CROW: The captain was reminding them that "Oh yeah? Well you
fight like a cow!" won't work as a retort in sea combat.
>Closer the ships came.
TOM: Step by step ... inch by inch ...
> Then in unison, the Godspeed's port cannons
>fired.
MIKE: And the recoil knocks the ship on its side and it sinks.
TOM: D'oh!
> The Abigail suffered several holes in her hull, as the
>Godspeed picked up her sails, and put on speed out of the battle,
CROW: Fleet Admiral, His Grace, Lord Trevor the Big Giant Scaredycat!
>leaving the angry father on the Victorious to deal with the Abigail.
>
MIKE: Young lady, you are *grounded* for a *week*!
> Marrissa emerged from the sewer at it's end and quickly hid
>behind some bushes.
CROW: Too bad they couldn't mask the stench of the congealed human
waste that coated her from head to toe.
TOM: She's Marrissa LePew!
MIKE: And ironically, *now* she has to go!
> The last hundred meters of the sewer had a
>maintenance walkway along one side, which was a good thing, as before
>she'd gotten to it the sewage level had already topped her knees.
MIKE: And brown's not even in this year,
CROW: Good thing green is.
MIKE & TOM: Ewwwwwww!
> It was about three minutes before her pursuers left the sewer.
CROW: So how many pursuers per sewer?
>She watched as they scanned the lagoon and the lush tropical brush
>surrounding it. As they scanned, another swordsman came into veiw.
TOM: Another one of those Japanese soldiers who hadn't heard the war
ended. Sheeeesh.
> "Foster!
MIKE: [Aussie] Foster! Australian for Throwaway!
> Have you seen any one exit the sewer?" one of the
>two men who had been following her asked.
CROW: [Foster] Yes, sir! Four turtles, a rat, and a reporter in
a yellow jumpsuit.
> "No, sir," Foster said. "I've been standing guard all day,
>and everyone I've seen entered the sewer."
TOM: He's been guarding a sewer all day? Man, he must've punched out
a general or something to draw *that* fine duty posting!
> "He must have hidden in a side branch," the second said.
>"Foster, I need you to join the search.
CROW: [Guard] Log on to Google and check under "Starfleet", "Escape"
and "Poo Gas".
> Two men attacked Lord Henry
>in the sewer, and we've got to find the one who went down stream."
> Marrissa watched as the three re-entered the sewer.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Suckers!
> As soon
>as they disappeared, she carefully walked away through the bush making
>as little noise as possible.
TOM: Pretty soon, all she could hear were the voices in her head.
> Soon she came to a small cove. Looking
>at her sewage covered legs, she stopped there to clean herself off.
CROW: I think you need more than the little bottle of Purell here.
>She took her tunic off, which had somehow escaped stain, but did have
>a rather large cut in it, which got larger when Marrissa took it off.
TOM: Great. I was going to get through this whole story without
having to think about Marrissa naked and now this!
>She then took a dive into the salt water.
MIKE: : [Marrissa] Ooh! Ow! Ow! Stingy stingy hurty! Owowowow!
> The wash and swim was a pleasant one. The wash especially.
CROW: Thanks to new Tide with extra Raw Sewage-Removal action!
TOM: She's taking a bath while being pursued by hostile swordsmen?
MIKE: She's operating under slasher flick rules.
>Marrissa had missed baths since leaving the Enterprise for this
>mission.
MIKE: Yeah, at this point, even B.O. Plenty is covering his mouth
and gagging.
> The cleaning methods on board the Stargazer just didn't
>measure up with a bath in sun warmed tropical water.
CROW: The cleaning methods on Stargazer consist of throwing Picard overboard.
> And to have a
>pleasant swim afterwards ... well Marrissa would never admit it to her
>friends,
TOM: But she owed the Gambino family 300 grand.
> but she loved skinny dipping.
MIKE: Okay, Steve's just taunting us now.
> The flow of the water past her
>naked body as she swam felt much better than when she wore a swimming
>suit.
[Stunned silence]
MIKE: Well then - she's not just a power-hungry conqueror of worlds,
she's an *exhibitionist* power-hungry conqueror of worlds.
CROW: This *definitely* falls under the "Too much information" clause
of our contract!
TOM: Please, cut away to anything! Anything is better than this!
> It was too bad that she couldn't afford to stay at the cove
>all day, but as she swam to shore she heard the bells of Church of the
>Overflowing Cup toll the hour of four. Marrissa was expected back at
>the Inn at five.
CROW: [Marrissa] Just enough time for a quick streak through town.
> Once she was ashore,
MIKE: And she adjusted her main riggings...
> Marrissa pulled her tunic over her head,
>only to discover a cut creating a gapping hole just even with her
>belly button.
MIKE: Marrissa challenges Britney and Christina for the pop princess title!
TOM: Suckers! My money's on Jalea Bates!
> But she had little choice but to wear it, as it was the
>only piece of clothing she had.
CROW: Too bad there isn't a starship around that could beam down a fresh
set of clothes to her.
> It was better to have the hole on
>this side though. There at least she'd have some control over it
>ripping open further.
CROW: Now she can rip it off at her own leisure.
TOM: I get the feeling Ratliff's perused one too many copies of FHM
lately.
> Still, she didn't really want to enter town
>like this.
CROW: With no fanfare or advance PR. It was just embarrassing.
MIKE: She may be overthinking her minor fabric damage.
> Mulling this dilemma over she walked down the shore, towards
>town.
TOM: [Marrissa] I can't go into town like this! Let me think it over
while I go to town.
> Soon the Bluepor Road curved towards shore and she began to
>walk along the cobblestone road. So entranced,
ALL: [monotone] "Royal and Prime Directive" was much better than "Cats".
I will read it again and again.
> in her thoughts, she
>failed to notice the pair of rinnebeasts heading towards her.
>
MIKE: Oh no! It's a ride-by swording!
> Lieutenant Ken Calgary was strapped to the rack.
CROW: Thanks to his rigorous workout schedule, he'd soon be buffed up
and his abs ripped!
> His arms
>were attached to one rope which wound around a bar which could be
>turned to pull them further from his legs, which were embedded in a
>tight restraint on the rack's bottom.
TOM: That is to say, he was strapped to the rack.
MIKE: This is how I've always pictured a chiropractor's office.
> The room he was in was not the
>expected dungeon, but what appeared to be a rather opulent quarters.
TOM: Guests of "Royal & Prime Directive" are tortured at the luxurious
Adams Mark Hotel in scenic downtown Ellosia!
>Calgary was an Engineer.
CROW: And he couldna take mooch moora this!
> He wasn't trained to undergo torture.
>Actually, most Star Fleet Officer's weren't,
MIKE: Well, except for the Special Tactical S&M squad.
> especially mediaeval
>torture.
TOM: "Mediaeval" torture?
CROW: That's where they keep adding on vowel after vowel until you break.
> Still, the torturer has to be asking the right questions to
>get out the information.
MIKE: Just Calgary's luck, he got one interested in macrame.
> Otherwise, Calgary would have been telling
>how to build a starship.
MIKE: Unfortunately, that's exactly what Lord Henry wanted to know.
CROW: [Henry] Yes, yes! Death from the stars! The infidels shall feel
my holy wrath!
> "I ask you again, who sent you to intercept me?" Lord Henry
>asked,
TOM: [Calgary, hysterical] BUDDY RYAN! He called Cover 2-blitz!
I swear I didn't know you were throwing over the middle!
> his hand caressing the wheel that would pull Calgary further
>apart.
CROW: Ooooh, lovely lovely wheel! No on understands you like I do,
my dear sweet wheel!
TOM: Henry enjoys that wheel a little too much.
> "No one!" Calgary screeched, already in pain after a hour of
>this.
TOM: Now, is it safe?
> "Why were you in the sewers?" Lord Henry asked,
CROW: [Calgary] Pitching! Been - needing new - closer - all season!
> bringing the
>rack up a notch.
MIKE: To eleven.
> "Captain Picard sent me!" The pain increased.
> "Now we're getting somewhere," Henry said. "And who is this
>Captain Picard?"
CROW: Stewart, Patrick. Born 7/13/40, Midfield England. Joined Royal
Shakespeare Theatre 1966. Cast in 1987 as Jean-Luc Picard.
> "He commands the merchant ship Stargazer!" Calgary could feel
>his joints popping loose.
> "Oh but that's not all he does, is it?"
TOM: Well, there's his one-man show of "A Christmas Carol". Does
that help?
> "No..." Calgary moaned as the rack pulled him further appart.
TOM: He's leader of the X-Men!
CROW: He's mixed up in the battle for the Spice Trade!
MIKE: And he also seeks the great white whale!
> "Perhaps you'd care to tell me what you know about this
>Captain Picard."
MIKE: [Calgary] Bald! Prissy! French! Or English! Or something!
> "I'll tell you anything, just stop this pulling," Calgary
>sobbed.
TOM: Planck's constant! The stats for the 1954 Giants! The
secret formula for Kentucky Fried Chicken! Anything!!
> "We'll see," Henry said, reducing the pull by two notches.
>"Isn't that better. Now who is this Captain Picard."
CROW: Is he Batman? ANSWER ME!!!
> "He's the commanding officer on the flagship starship
>Enterprise."
> "Starship? I think you're lying to me."
MIKE: [Henry] Or you're high. In which case, share!
> "No, I swear I'm not. We come from the same organization as
>the King was from."
TOM: [Calgary] See? Here's my Amway sample case!
> "And I suppose you're here to bring the King back. Pardon me
>if I've heard that one before.
ALL: You're pardoned.
> In the last twenty years over a dozen
>'prophets' have claimed that.
TOM: Then that blasted emissary showed up...
> They're gone now, and the King is still
>here.
MIKE: That proves something, but I don't know what.
> Though, he won't be much longer.
CROW: He's gonna be shorter?
> You can do better than that.
MIKE: [Henry] Where's the brilliant young Calgary I hired?
>Who was that swordsman with you?"
MIKE: That was no swordsman, that was my knife!
TOM: *ba-dum-dum*
> "She was the Captain's daughter, Marrissa," Calgary said.
> "Still lying," Henry sighed. He turned the rack up a notch,
CROW: [British] Cardinal Fang, give the rack another turn!
>and Calgary screamed.
> "I'm telling the truth!
ALL: YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!
> She's the Chief of Security on the
>Enterprise! A member of the Royal Family of Essex! The youngest ever
>to serve in Starfleet!"
CROW: She's the captain of the Kids' Crew!
MIKE: She's the first Triple Crown winner in 350 years!
TOM: She has the best Kobayashi Maru time ever!
CROW: Oh, but don't mention any of it in front of her, cuz she hates
her titles.
ALL: Yeah, sure, that's right, absolutely, etc.
> "I think the pain has addled your brain," Lord Henry said.
TOM: Y'know, a semi-reasonable villain would give Calgary the benefit
of the doubt, but this Henry guy's a jackass.
CROW: Yeah. This is gonna sound weird, but I hope Marrissa kicks this
jerk's hinder.
MIKE: Me too - anybody with that big of a hole in his head deserves to
get his butt handed to him on a silver platter.
>"Too bad. I thought we were getting somewhere.
CROW: Hey, "No" means "No"!
> Perhaps you'll be
>able to talk coherently later.
TOM: So until then, let's mambo dogface through the banana patch.
> Unfortunately, I just don't have the
>time anymore. I've got a King to capture and kill,
CROW: [Henry] And I'm telling you this because I know it won't come
back to bite me.
> and I'm afraid
>that after I'm done, any information you have will be totally
>inadequate to your continued existence."
MIKE: [Henry] Lower him into the unnecessarily slow death machine
and leave him alone.
CROW: Tonight, the part of Lord Henry will be played by Prince
Humperdinck.
> With that, Lord Henry brought up the rack three more notches,
>popping Calgary's arms out of their sockets.
[Crow makes popping sounds]
> As he turned to leave,
>Calgary's screams were music to his ears.
>
TOM: Ah, the Toccata and Fugue in Pain Minor.
> Marrissa was hoping that she wouldn't run into anyone she knew
>before she got back to her room at the Golden Rinnebeast.
CROW: Just how likely *is* it? There are only about 5 people on the
entire frickin' planet who know her!
MIKE: Just watch. This is where fate and chance take a dive in the
fourth round.
> It was a
>hope that didn't even last halfway to the city gates. The coastal
>road she was walking on wasn't very well traveled, but there were some
>people riding the local replacement for horses.
CROW: He means rinnebeasts, right?
MIKE: Let's not jump to conclusions.
> "Stop for a moment, Avery," a girl said from her mount. "I
>think I recognize that girl."
CROW: She stole Mike's keyboard!
TOM: A little *too* obscure.
> "Okay, Hayley," Avery said.
>
CROW: Jeez, not even married yet and she's already got him whipped!
> The Godspeed rounded Castrome point and put on all sails.
TOM: Everything must go! Well over forty percent off!
>Captain Lord Treavor intended to make record time, even with a damaged
>mizzenmast.
MIKE: Oh, we can't have nice mizzenmasts.
> Repairs on the mizzenmast would only take a couple more
>hours, anyway.
>
TOM: Which calls into question the need for a mizzenmast to begin with.
CROW: The ship was designed by committee. Parts made all over to keep
Ye Olde Armed Forces Committee happy.
> Captain Jean-Luc Picard adjusted his tunic as he stood at the
>door to the throne room. His wife stood at his side, and two guards
>at his back.
MIKE: And they were all surrounded by a squad of boy scouts with
compasses and GPS units.
> The former security chief turned chief of intelligence
>had already entered the room and was talking to the King and his
>staff. Finally, the door split open, revealing Lord Harlan.
CROW: Oh, it's *you*. For a moment there, you gave me quite a start.
> "Come on in, Captain," Harlan said. "Roland, do not let
>anyone disturb us. This could take a while."
CROW: Eww! They're gonna share Beverly!
TOM: Hey, hey! You're jumping to conclusions! Ratliff would never do
that to us.
MIKE: Unless Marrissa was involved...
CROW: [Pause] ...You're paying for my therapy bill, Mike.
> "Are you sure you don't want someone to guard them inside?"
>Roland asked.
MIKE: [Harlan] Yes. Crawl into their spleens and stand ready.
> "The Captain and his wife are not a physical threat," Harlan
>said. "If his highness wishes to join us, he may. Tell him that our
>meeting is a matter of the Prime Directive, if he asks."
>
TOM: [Harlan] If he *doesn't* ask, tell him that it's about changing
the drapes in the dining room to a floral pattern.
> The guard on the main entrance to Odyssey was thin,
CROW: The city is guarded by Sir Kate Moss and Sir Iggy Pop!
> no one had
>tried to force their way in before, and over the years, it had been
>gradually reduced.
TOM: The guardpost was so small, even the mice were hunchbacked.
> So when Lord Henry's troops emerged from the
>nearby sewer junction
ALL: [Troops] COWABUNGA!!!
> and rushed the entrance, it was easily taken,
MIKE: Ugh! Mainly by force of odor alone!
TOM: Henry's troops better hope he stocked up on Lifeboy back home.
>with no losses on Henry's side.
>
CROW: Except for their dignity.
> As the Captain walked passed Lord Harlan into the throne room,
>he took stock of the room. It was a typical Star Fleet Gym.
CROW: *snicker* The throne room is the ship's *gym*?!
TOM: The bowling alley just wasn't formal enough.
MIKE: Not only is he the absolute monarch of all he surveys, but he
can bench-press 180.
>Two stories, running track around the second level.
MIKE: Somebody tell me why they filmed this at the Guilderland YMCA?
> A large tapestry
>covered the end of the room farthest from the door, and below it sat
>five thrones, arranged two on the highest dais, two still placed in
>front of them, and another on the left hand side.
TOM: Further feng shui bulletins as they become available.
> No one was seated
>in them. Instead everyone was seated in a loose grouping of chairs
>under the Castrome banner,
MIKE: Those banners are just for sale to the tourists.
> one of four ducal banners placed around the
>room.
TOM: Even in the future, you can't escape pop-up banners.
> The door slide shut behind him.
> "Welcome to Odyssey, Jean-Luc," the white bearded King said
>standing.
CROW: Hooray! We've finally reached plot!
> "I'm sorry that I didn't meet you sooner.
MIKE: [King] Too busy slaughtering everyone who opposes my absolute
rule. You guys wanna soda or something?
> Harlan didn't
>tell me you were here. Who's this beautiful young woman?"
CROW: [Deep voice] Captain Slam Hardrock.
> "This is Commander Beverly Picard, MD, my wife, mother of my
>daughter, and my Chief Medical Officer," Jean-Luc said, quite
>obviously proud of her.
TOM: And obviously remembering to praise at all opportunities or get
cut off again.
> "Beverly, this is Captain Richard York, of
>the Odyssey."
CROW: [Beverly] Darrin?
MIKE: [Picard] No, a different one, I'm afraid.
> "And lately King of Ellosia, though I wish it weren't so, most
>of the time," the King said.
MIKE: He keeps saying that, and we keep not believing it.
> "Perhaps later, you can exchange
>professional courtesies with my wife,
CROW: In those rare moments when she's not vomiting.
> she's missed having doctors she
>can talk to."
TOM: [King] I'd ask you to cure her horrible wasting disease, but that
would just cheapen all of us.
> "It should be interesting to hear what Doctor York has done
>here," Beverly said.
MIKE: [Beverly] What's her Blue Cross payout like, anyway?
> "Not much, I'm afraid," the King said, sitting back down.
>"We've avoided introducing any new concepts, instead relying on
>encouraging native innovation.
TOM: [King] Except for that little Viagra factory we have on the
outskirts of town.
CROW: Penicillin and MRI scans are out, boiled frogwort and leeches
are in.
> Claire has spent most of her time
>raising our two children and breeding rinnebeasts."
>
TOM: Well, if she did it the other way around, it'd just be silly.
> The path to the throne room was cleared rather easily as well,
MIKE: Sure, once you got all the Butterfinger wrappers and empty
Schlitz cans outta the way.
CROW: This Kingdom could be conquered by the Soggies.
>as other teams went after other key parts of Odyssey. They were after
>the King,
TOM: [Elvis] Thankyavurramuch!
> the Prince,
CROW: They just want his extra time. And his kiss.
> the Princess,
MIKE: As you wiiiiiiiiiiish...
> and any member of the King's
>council, as well as securing the palace.
>
CROW: These guards are operating at almost imperial stormtrooper
levels of efficiency.
> "You do realize that you're violating the Prime Directive by
>just being here," Picard said, taking a seat.
TOM: [King] But I'm *not* breaking it by *not* being here.
CROW: [Picard] Save your Zen trickery!
> "I had no choice but to break the Prime Directive once my ship
>landed on the last King and the Royal Family," the King said.
CROW: So they had to seize power in order to preserve the status quo?
MIKE: A fine, Pentagonian line of thinking of there ever was one.
> "Surely there were other claimants for the throne," Picard
>said.
CROW: They ran that ad in the Ellosia Times-Herald, but the only ones
who answered were the Safeway produce manager, the "Time to Make
the Doughnuts" guy and Ted McGinley.
> "A few, but they were so remote as to be unclear, and likely
>to throw the kingdom into civil war," the King said.
MIKE: I thought that just meant the Secretary of Agriculture took over?
> "Both the Duke
>of Fasstime and the Duke of Castrome had claims of equal degree, and
>Avtra and Armedge to a lesser degree.
TOM: [King] Yeah, had to kill 'em all, pretty much.
> The best claim was probably of
>the Lord of Music,
CROW: [King] Who's also the Duke of Ellington, Count of Basie and
Prince of TAFKA.
> the bastard son of a bastard son of a bastard son
MIKE: o/` Of a bastard son of a sailor... o/`
>whose great-grandfather was King Avery III."
CROW: King Avery *Schreiber* III.
TOM: Hakim! Hakim!
> "It sounds to me like the monarchal line was on a thin
>thread," Picard replied.
CROW: We're not talking the Hapsburgs, here.
> "It does, until you realize that our landing killed over 150
>members of the Ellosia Royal Family," the King said.
MIKE: [King] Our pilot really outdid herself, there!
> "Once I learned
>how much of the Ellosian government that my barely controlled landed
>had taken out, I felt that I had a moral obligation to take over."
TOM: [King] Because if I hadn't, the next king wouldn't have been me!
> The door to the throne room opened, and Lord Harlan turned see
>who it was,
TOM: It's the wacky next door neighbor, Lord Kramer.
CROW: [Kramer] Your majesty! My boys can swim!
> expecting that maybe Prince Avery had come to join,
>knowing that none of the guard would interrupt.
>
CROW: Just because you *can* compound a sentence doesn't mean you *should*.
> Prince Avery, Lady Hayley, and Marrissa rode into the royal
>stables. Marrissa shared Lady Hayley's mount,
MIKE: And that mount is Sinai.
CROW: [Heston] I bring you these commandments!
> and wore Avery's cloak,
>wrapped around her own tattered tunic.
TOM: These scenes were cut from "Shrek" for clarity.
> Avery dismounted first,
MIKE: But Keri Strug still won the gold.
>and then helped Hayley and then Marrissa down from the rinnebeast.
> "Welcome to Odyssey Palace, Marrissa," Avery said,
CROW: We hope you enjoy your stay. If you need anything, just dial
"6" for room service.
> turning to
>the stable hand. "You!
TOM: Lick me!
> go get my sister's extra outfit, for this
>sailor lady.
CROW: [Jerry Lewis] Oh, the sailor lady guy! And the clothes and
the lulla-baby-bye, Froin-LAIVEN!!!
> Brittany always keeps an extra outfit out here."
MIKE: So she just leaves her clothes lying around the house?
TOM: Sounds like a normal teenage girl to me.
> It took only a minute for the stableboy to return with the
>extra pants & tunic. Marrissa took the offered pants, but left the
>tunic. While the pants were of thick and sturdy cloth,
TOM: They haven't even got Dacron on this planet!
CROW: That's the daytime, sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy-
head, fever ... wait ...
> the tunic was
>of a thin and almost translucent pale blue cloth.
TOM: Yeah, it's Brittany, all right. Well, or Christina. Or Beyonce.
Or Shakira. Or...
> "Thanks," she
>replied. "I'll return the pants once I get back to the Golden
>Rinnebeast for mine."
MIKE: I hope we get to see all the people Marrissa meets on the way
to returning her pants.
> "Don't go so soon, Marrissa," Hayley said, as Marrissa turned
>as if to leave.
TOM: [Hayley] But when you do, leave more.
> "Yes, at least come in and get some refreshment," Avery said.
CROW: [Avery] We're having juice and cookies before nap-nap.
>As he did, the sound of clashing swords started to be heard.
MIKE: Somewhere, someone was filming a Gillette commercial.
>Suddenly, a solider burst from the Palace entrance.
CROW: Those playing along at home are encouraged to pick any line from
"Monty Python and the Holy Grail" here.
> "Your Highness!" the solider said. "Someone has taken the
>King hostage in the throne room. They're heading this way!"
MIKE: [Avery] So why are you heading towards US instead of THEM?
TOM: [Guard] Umm... To protect you, sire?
MIKE: [Avery] Remind me to have you executed later.
TOM: Yessir...
> "Can any of you handle a sword?" Avery asked the stable hands,
>drawing his own, and eyeing the rack of broad swords next to the
>stable door.
TOM: Then he turned to Hayley and Marrissa and examined the broads' racks.
> "I can," Marrissa said,
MIKE: [Dully] Gee. What a shock.
TOM: [Ditto] Yes. I never even saw. It coming.
> picking up one of the swords.
>"Hmmm... a little out of balance, but useable."
CROW: [Marrissa] Where's the phaser on it?
> "Okay, we'll head to the Avtra Ducal House," Avery said as a
>couple other stable hands also armed themselves.
MIKE: [Teen] Their folks are out of town, and we can have a bitchin'
party there, dudes!
> "Collect any other
>soldiers as we go."
TOM: Save them in polymer bags. They may be valuable someday.
> He spied a young stable boy, who often had helped
>him saddle his rinnebeast. "David, head to Castrome's Ducal House. I
>want the Duchess to meet me at Avtra."
CROW: [kid] Do it yourself, prince boy! I got horseflops to shovel!
> A trio of swordsmen burst from the palace door.
CROW: o/~ Helloooo! o/~
TOM: o/~ Helloooo! o/~
MIKE: o/~ Helloooo! o/~
ALL: HELLO!
> They were
>armed with short swords,
TOM: 34 petites.
> and looked to have been fighting for a while,
>judging from the torn and sweaty clothes.
MIKE: That or they've been listening to Alan Greenspan describe the Fed's
monetary policy for 10 minutes.
> Avery raised his sword.
CROW: Leaving his chest completely undefended, so one of the enemy
soldiers plunged his sword into it, killing Avery instantly.
>Marrissa and the soldier did likewise.
TOM: The Three Doofusteers!
> Together they leapt into
>battle.
MIKE: [Avery] YIPPIE!!
TOM: [Marrissa] YAPPIE!!
CROW: [Soldier] YAHOOEY!!
> The soldier was, perhaps a moderately skilled swordsman,
>certainly capable of holding his own in a battle.
CROW: Or, if necessary, holding someone else's.
> He took the left
>most opponent, a man more used to stabbing a short sword than welding
>a broadsword.
TOM: He accidentally fuses his broadsword onto the water pipe.
> Prince Avery had been training with various swords
>since he was little,
CROW: If you count the little "incident" with the cat.
MIKE: You mean good ol' Stumpy?
CROW: Yeah, poor kitty.
> and had, due to a breach in security, once
>assisted in driving off a Pirate landing party in Bluepor.
MIKE: [Avery] Daddy, I saved the kingdom!
TOM: [King] What?!? You march right up to your room, young man!
> The Prince
>took the man in the center, a fairly skilled swordsman in his own
>right. That left Marrissa to take the right most opponent.
CROW: Fortunately for her, that man was Eddie Deezen.
> Marrissa's skills were rather eclectic.
TOM: Galaxy conquering, refrigerator repair, scrimshaw and third base.
> That came with both
>being Chief of Security on the Enterprise, and being just thirteen.
MIKE: Thanks, Steve, for throwing in a jarring reminder of the utter
unreality of the situation.
TOM: The lesson here: youth equals swordsmanship!
>She was skilled with ba'leths and mek'leths, and other Klingon blades,
>but her real talents came with the saber. She'd been training with
>the saber since she was seven,
TOM: Is this what all kids do in the Star Trek universe - just play
with sharp things all day?
CROW: Of course not - there's also horseback riding.
> but that training was the formal
>dueling training. While it was good for the defense, offensively, her
>bladed weapon technic stank with the broadsword.
CROW: *sniff* *sniff* Naw, that's just Mike.
MIKE: Hey!
> Still she held her
>own, and given that her opponent wasn't expecting to go up against a
>young girl, she had some advantages.
TOM: Mainly, he was laughing so hard he couldn't stand up straight.
> Prince Avery was the first to finish with his adversary.
CROW: And he was delicious!
> His
>opponent had over extended just a little bit, and Avery had gotten in
>his guard, and cut open his opponent's neck.
TOM: Luckily, he needed the tracheotomy right then.
> Seeing Marrissa's
>skillful parrying, Avery turned to help the soldier,
MIKE: [Avery] Let's see, should I help the trained fighter, or the
little girl? Hmmm...
> who was dodging
>due to the fact that the left most man was using his sword like a
>spear.
CROW: He'd throw it, then they'd have to wait while he went and picked
it up, and the whole thing'd just start all over.
> It may not have been honorable to take a man down from behind,
>but Avery wasn't following the dueling code for this.
TOM: Suddenly, 5 billion Klingons showed up to berate him.
> It was about then that Marrissa decided to try a technique
>from her mek'leth training.
CROW: It was called "running away in terror".
MIKE: It sounds crazy, but it just might work!
> Her sword clashed once more, it's tip
>piercing her opponent's wrist, before she stepped in close, passed her
>opponent, trailing her sword behind her.
TOM: Ummmmm...
CROW: So she just did - what exactly? Whacked him in the kneecap?
MIKE: It's called the "Tonya Harding Special".
> A wound in the belly is not always fatal, and if it is, the
>death is usually slow.
TOM: On the upside, it's an excellent way to get rid of those unwanted
extra pounds.
> With proper medical attention, this one
>wouldn't be. It was, however, coupled with the scratch on his wrist,
>enough to cause the man to drop his sword.
MIKE: They're vicious rebels, but quite vulnerable to paper cuts.
> The next wound would be
>fatal. Marrissa's height made cuts to the neck and head on the
>six-foot tall man hard.
CROW: Too bad a man who's just been gut-stabbed doesn't, y'know,
bend over in agony or something!
TOM: Yeah, if only.
> A slice an inch deep into the man's belly,
>that was what made his funeral bell ring,
TOM: And a slice of sausage pizza was what made his dinner bell ring!
> even though it would take
>the better part of an hour for him to die.
CROW: She forgot to use that cursed henbane on it, so he'd die before
the end of the act.
> His hands tried to keep
>his intestines inside him, as Marrissa lost her breakfast to the sight
>of her first real hot-blooded kill.
>
TOM: This must be Marrissa's stunt double.
> Into the throne room marched several swordsmen, and entering
>from one of the doors onto the running track were more swordsmen and
>several archers.
MIKE: It's the Scott Bakula Brigade!
TOM: Blasted Temporal Cold War!
> Striding in behind them, as if he owned the place
CROW: Which, at the moment, he kinda does...
>was Lord Henry of Fasstime.
MIKE: And he was immediately all up in the King's business.
> "Good Afternoon Richard," he said. "You
>don't mind if my men relieve you of your weapons."
>
TOM: [King] Oh, thank you. They were getting a bit heavy.
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
MIKE: Geez, no plot for seven chapters, then all heck breaks loose at once!
>
>"To hell with crack, heroin, whiskey, tobacco. Writing is far and away
>the single most addictive thing in the universe, IMHO." ~ Greywolf
>
CROW: Kids, just say "No" to Word Processors!
MIKE: Stop the madness!
TOM: We gotta go.
[All leave]
COMMERCIALS
1) Did we mention that we have Spielberg's "Taken"? Cuz we do.
2) The future of on-line services is - a guy in a weird butterfly costume?
3) Catherine Zeta-Jones for - ah, who cares? It's Catherine Zeta-Jones!
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
bil...@hiwaay.net http://home.hiwaay.net/~billfl
"If you're dumb, surround yourself with smart people. And if you're smart,
surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you."
Isaac Jaffee (Robert Guillaume), "Sports Night"