MiSTing: "Hail to the Queen" [PG, STNG, Marrissa] (5/9]

[Matthew R Blackwell]

> Chapter Five
>
> At the science station at the back of the Bridge, a display
>of a Borg ship dominated the screen.

Crow: Which ship? Who cares!

> The rendering of the cube
>was painted in an odd combination of green, yellow, and a
>single patch of red.

Mike: Q*Bert!

> The red point was the sole opening in the
>Borg defence grid that could be broken into easily.

Tom: So, let me get this straight. Data, an android, brought
them the plans to the invincible Borg Ship?
Mike: The Borg ship is heavily shielded and carries a firepower
greater than half the star fleet. Its defenses are
designed around a direct large-scale assault. A small
one-man fighter should be able to penetrate the outer
defense.
Crow: Pardon me for asking sir, but what good are snub
fighters going to be against that?
Mike: Well, the Borg don't consider a small one-man fighter to
be any threat, or they'd have a tighter defense. . .
Tom: All right, knock it off you two.
Crow: Hee, hee.

> There were weak points across the cube
>surface, but since Marrissa became the Queen they were
>reinforced or shielded.

Crow: No originality allowed without Marrissa.

> The spot was an exhaust port for waste
>methane, carbon dioxide, oxygen, and other materials that
>could effect the implants on the Borg.

Mike: So in other words things common in the damn atmosphere?

> It was all vented out
>into space through that one point.

Mike: Only a precise hit will set up a chain reaction. The
shaft is ray-shielded, so you'll have to use photon
torpedoes.
Crow: That's impossible, even for a computer.
Mike: [using a different voice] It's not impossible. I used to
bulls-eye womp rats in my T-16 back home. They're not
much bigger than two meters.
Tom: All right! Knock it off!
Crow: Hee, hee.

> There were no cutting lasers
>near the port, for fear of igniting the materials.

Tom: They're going to drop a cherry bomb down there!

> The shields
>were also void of the area, because if the wastes did ignite
>the shields would keep the fires in.

Tom: So the guys who can survive in the intense radiation and
absolute zero of bare space and shrug off anti-matter
blasts are worried about a grease fire?!?
Mike: Yeah, pretty much.

> The only way to use this
>weakness was to fire Quantum Torpedoes down the shaft. Once
>down into the pumping system, the torpedo would explode and
>ignite the wastes in the ship.

Crow: Then, they're going to go on a panty raid!

> That would of course take into
>account all the wastes weren't already cleansed, and the angle
>would not send the torpedo into the side of the shaft, but it
>was the best shot they had.

Mike: Well, since the UDP against the Borg didn't work. . .

> Jay moved away from the Science Station back into his Command
>Chair.

Mike: No one will be admitted during the "Moving Away" scene.

> "Shayna, open a channel to the fleet at Wolf 359." Jay
>ordered. "Tell them we have something they can use."

Mike: [Jay] They're gonna laugh, so repeat it several times.

> Shayna tapped the Comm channel

Tom: ...and cast a Hurloon Minotaur.

> and opened it to any ship at
>Wolf 359. Puzzled that there was no response, she tried again.

Crow: [as operator] SOR-rey, your party is no ANSwering.
Tom: You're not dealing with AT&T.

> "Jay, the fleet isn't answering." Lieutenant Sachs
>announced.

Crow: Do they have Fleet waiting?

> "Either they moved to another Borg attack location,
>or have ..."

Crow: . . . turned off their comm units to avoid letting the
Borg track them through their communications?

> "I doubt the second option very much." Jay interrupted,
>denying the possibility.

Crow: I refute it thus! [kicks the seat in front of him]

> "The fleet would have gotten off
>some sort of evacuation notice if it was destroyed."

Crow: Could you possibly hold off with that killing blow until
I can get a note off to the fleet? Thanks, you're a dear.
Tom: Poor deluded fool.

> "They also would have given us a message that they were
>changing their location." Countered Shayna.
> Jay sighed. The crew usually didn't question Marrissa.

Mike: Thanks to those disciplinary executions.

> "Alex, scan the fleet's last known position. See if there's
>some way to give us a visual of the area."

Crow: Turning on the viewscreen might help.

> "Yessir," Alex said, as he went to work at his console.
>"Visual coming through now." No one was fully prepared for
>the scene of carnage. The nearby space telescope

Mike: Hubble?
Tom: Nah, can't be. You destroyed that eons ago.
Mike: Hey!

> had picked
>up the last battle field of the Federation/Romulan fleet.
>Hulls and debris floated past the camera, with some of the
>names visible.

Mike: In other words, a literary interpretation of a cool
Director's shot.
Tom: Edmund Fitzgerald. Poseidon. Titanic. Marie Celeste. SS
Minnow...

> Holding down the meal he recently ate,

Tom: [as Jay] No one's getting my macaroni and cheese!

> Jay ordered with a
>wavy voice.

Mike: [Torgo] ThE mAsTeR wAnTs MaRriSsA, BuT hE cAnNoT hAvE
hEr!
Tom: *Now* who's dabbling in nightmare imagery!

>"Alex, can you take the debris and reform it?

Crow: Sure! I'll need an arc welder, some I-beams, some
rivets, maybe some transparent aluminum, but I'm not
really sure that this is a good time for a recycling
drive.

> Put it back
>into the fleet?" seeing the young Klingon at Ops nod his head,
>Jay continued. "Put the results on the main viewer."

Crow: I think that was an awkward description of using a
computer to reconstruct an accident.

> Alex nodded solemnly, and went about his duty. The main
>viewers star field was replaced with purple wire images of the
>fleet, and a green field of debris off to a side.

Mike: He needs to learn that effective Web Page design is more
than just yutzing around with HTML color options!

> The field
>of debris covered the ships in the fleet, changing the colour
>from purple to green, one by one as the computer sorted
>through the rubble.

Tom: [Barney Rubble laugh]
Crow: [Fred] All right, all right! Hoo-boy!

> At the end of the cycle, there was still
>a smaller field of debris, and a few purple ships left over.

Tom: His Royal Badness' imperial fleet [Prince] *Ooooowwww!*
Mike: We couldn't just estimate the mass of the debris and
compare it to ships sizes, no, we had to do something
fancy!

> "What could the rest of it be?" Jay wondered a loud. "Could
>the field be the other ships, Alex?"

Mike: Mass measurement! Mass measurement! Stop showing off!

> "If they were, the computer would have sorted them out."
>Alex responded. "It may be a Borg ship. Computer, match
>remaining debris on the viewscreen with the schematics on
>Science Station One."
> The debris shifted and moved around on the screen until it
>became the exact replica of the rendering on the rear station.

Tom: I don't want to know about anyone's rear station in this
fanfic!

> "That answers the debris dilemma." remarked Shayna. "But
>then where's the ships that survived?"

Tom: Meanwhile on Risa. . .

> "Jay, there are seven ships exiting warp, dead ahead." Alex
>noticed.

Tom: It's the cast of Battle Beyond the Stars! We're in a
crossover!
All: Aiiiiiieeeeeeee!!!!!!

> "On screen." The picture of the ships disappeared and showed
>the remainders of the fleet dropping from warp. Heads across
>the bridge hung in sadness,

Mike: Crap, they found us!

> seeing the once beautiful, majestic
>fleet, reduced to a rag-tag group of a mere seven ships.

Tom: But at least those non-human swarthy Klingons and Romulans
got their butts kicked!
Mike: How many times can Ratliff and his cronies destroy
Starfleet?

> Fleet
>Admiral Picard appeared on the main viewscreen. His eyes were
>heavy with exhaustion, and his uniform was creased and dirty.

Crow: Geez, Beverly's really wearing him out!

>The grubby look of the battered soul on the screen matched up
>with the shabby appearance of the vessels.

Mike: Designating them the "U.S.S. Dirty-Bum-With-a-Shopping-
Cart" class just didn't give the hoped-for morale boost.

> "Jay, I can believe that the Borg are too strong. The two
>ships that are left are proceeding to Earth at a leisurely
>pace.

Tom: They're stopping at every Stuckey's along the way!
Mike: Hmmm. They must be trying to assimilate the Pecan
Logs....

> I've diverted all of Starfleet to try and stop them.

Crow: Of course, it might have been wiser to attack the Borg
with all of the ships at once, but Jean-Luc would rather
let the Borg split them up and kill them off piecemeal.

> We
>can get there at maximum warp, just in time for the final show
>down.

Mike: Again, this is a no tension zone.
Tom: What convenient timing too.
Crow: Someday, we'll read a story where the fleet arrives early
or too late to stop the bad guys. But not today. Sigh.

> I assume you played your trump card while we were at Wolf
>359?"

Tom: Yes sir. We won the trick.

> "Yes, sir." replied Jay.

Crow: And, as usual, things went kinda crappy.

> "Good, that allowed the rest of us to escape. Is Data on
>board?"
> "No sir. He beamed back to the planet where he's trying to
>increase production on the Defiants in orbit. It may be a
>futile act, but at least it's something to do."

Mike: I sense a morale problem here.
Tom: "Something to do . . ."

> "Excellent.

Tom: [Mr.Burns] Smithers, release the hounds!

> The Phoenix is reporting some warp field
>problems, and the Yorktown needs to maintenance it's fighters.
>We'll be leaving within the hour. Picard out." The channel
>closed.
> "All right people." Jay bellowed. "This is probably the final
>round. Lets get every trick, every counter, and every sucker
>punch we can ready to go. I get the feeling we're going to
>need them."
>

Mike: Inspiring. Inspiring.

> Things were going well, thought Marrissa.

Tom: All tension had been avoided and the plot recycled
heavily.

> The fleet was in
>ruins, Earth was about to be assimilated,

Crow: Fox had finally stopped showing "World's Scariest Police
Chases MCIIVII", the Spice Girls had finally broken up. .

> and the last bits of
>Starfleet were going to try and stop them.

Crow: And Melrose Place was about to come on.
Tom: [as Marrissa] Today *is* a good day!

> The two ships
>dropped their cloaking shields,

Tom: I shouted, "Don't look Ethyl!" But it was too late. She'd
already seen their exposed warp cores.

> to allow the energy to be used
>for regenerating the ships' damage. Besides, Marrissa simply
>wanted to attract attention.

All: [dully] Again, we're shocked.
Crow: [as Marrissa] Yoohoo! A poor innocent little assimilated
Borg Queen that needs rescuing!

> A three ship grouping of Oberth
>Class vessels tried to slow them, but met the rest of the
>fleet in the great beyond.

Tom: Oberth Class ships? That's the starship version of the
red shirted security guy, right?

> A small portion of the Collective
>watched as their Queen took them on a romp through Federation
>space.

Crow: A *romp*?!?
Mike: Yeah, you know - a spree.
Tom: A gambol.
Mike: A revelry.
Tom: A frolicsome cavorting.

> There had to be some way they could regain some
>small amount of control over her, but direct confrontation was
>too dangerous. The ones that placed the odd recall program in
>the Queen's consciousness may be able to help regain control,
>or destroy it entirely.

Tom: Yep, the Collective's bitten off more than it can chew,
this time!

> At any rate, the best solution was to
>wait for an opportunity. The Borg continued to hop from
>system to system, intimidating the locals,

Mike: Darn you Duke boys!
Crow: "Intimidating the locals"? What are they, the Borga
Nostra all of a sudden?
Tom: [Borg] We are the Borg. 'Ow many tanks you got 'ere,
colonel?

> while making a
>beeline for Earth.
>

Mike: Or, in this case, Borgline.
Tom: Ernest Borgline?
Mike: Ha ha. Funny, Tom.

> The small remainder of Earth's starships warped away from
>Omicron Theta, driven by the desire to fight for their homes.
>If the Earth were to fall, then the Federation would crumble.

Crow: Again, humans are the center of everything, aren't they
Mike?
Mike: Leave me out of this.

> The Borg would assimilate everything, and everyone.

Tom: So the Borg are blind to the fact that the hand they hold
is the hand that holds them down?
Mike: Why won't they ever learn?

> Jaw set
>in firm determination,

Tom: After massive dental surgery.

> Jay ordered Red Alert.

Mike: Then, just in case, he ordered Counterstrike and
Aftermath too.

> The last of Earth's defenders were gathered at
>lunar orbit. The group included the ships from Omicron Theta,
>the USS Nova and five Excelsior class ships, with three Galaxy
>class vessels to assist them. Older ships manned by Data's
>androids also made appearances.

Tom: Otherwise known as slave ships!

> There were Miranda-classes,
>Oberths, Constellations that were half way through the
>transformation to the Stargazer class, and Ambassadors.

Crow: Yes, Shirley Temple Black is leading the attack on the
Borg.

>Another Klingon detachment was lent to the Federation,
>consisting of two Vor'cha class battle cruisers,

Crow: Oh, no! It really is a Babylon 5 crossover!
Mike: That's 'Vorlons', Crow.

> and ten Birds
>of Prey.

Mike: So while Stephen loves reciting names & ranks, Ron like
to tick off ships & ship classes.

> In total, there was thirty five ships meeting at Earth.

Crow: I thought they were down to just 7 ships.
Tom: Eh, starships are like paper clips - they multiply when
you're not looking.

>The orbital defences were armed and ready for battle, with
>Quantum Torpedo launchers and phaser banks mounted on
>communication and survey satellites.

Crow: Ah, remnants of the Soviet space program.

> The Borg came in with little attempt to conceal themselves.

Tom: Though two of them did disguise themselves as fuzzy dice.

>The fleet attacked with the weapons they had available.
>Phasers raked the dark black hulls of the Borg vessels,
>without any retaliation. The cubes sat there absorbing the
>punishment,

Crow: They were starting to enjoy it, actually.
Mike: I beg of you, Crow, don't go to that place!

> as if they were mocking the Federation craft. The
>Enterprise angled into an attack pattern.

Crow: Sigh.
Mike: Sigh.
Tom: Sigh.

> "Helm, initiate plan Beta two three niner. Shayna, aim the
>Quantum torpedoes and get ready to fire on my mark." Jay
>started to put the plan into action. The Enterprise began a
>gradual curve that would put them directly towards the exhaust
>port.

Crow: Where they would shove a banana up the tailpipe.

> The target cube rotated along the Y-axis on the screen,
>as the port came into range. Off to the left, a Miranda
>vessel was caught in a tractor beam, while cutting lasers
>sliced the Ambassador class USS Arkansas into titanium
>confetti.

Mike [Bill] You're sure you shredded all the evidence, Hillary?
Crow: [Hillary] Trust me!

> The port seemed to grow to fill the screen as the
>Enterprise set up a crippling shot.
>

Mike: Jim beam, everclear, and Robitussin!

> "Steady, steady" Jay repeated, as the side of the cube grew
>in size. "Fire phasers." Jay ordered. The energy beams
>streaked from their banks,

Tom: Then the exploding ink-packs detonated and stained the
loot.

> trying to mask the Enterprise's
>true intent. The Borg took sparse notice of Marrissa's former
>ship, as if it was little more than an insect.

Crow: [Observer voice] You are as an amoeba to us!

> "FIRE!!!!!" Jay screamed in a mix of anger and joy.

Crow: The same way he'd said "I do" at the wedding.

> The torpedo streaked from the launcher to the shaft.

Mike: Great shot kid! That was one in a million!
Tom: ENOUGH STAR WARS REFS ALREADY!

> Immersing
>themselves with dealing with the fleet, the Borg barely saw
>the torpedo fling into the vent. On the Bridge of the
>Enterprise, the crew held their breath. Seconds stretched
>into minutes as the torpedo moved along it's intended path.

Mike: Ah, this must be the Federation's new "Slow Detonation"
torpedo!

> Not truly caring of the attempt on their ship, the Borg
>continued to slash open Federation vessels. The victim of the
>torpedo managed to put away two Miranda class cruisers, along
>with a Galaxy class frigate.

Tom: So, the USS Enterprise-D was a *frigate*?
Mike: And the Miranda class, which is smaller, is a cruiser?
Tom: Starfleet's ship classification system seems a tad odd.

> A Borg Drone maintenancing the
>waste pumping systems noticed an odd increase in the alloy
>temperature.

Tom: Since no one noticed the torpedo going down the stupid
shaft . .

> Sending a notice to the ship centre point, the
>drone began scanning to try and discern the cause. The
>solution was found when the torpedo broke through the pump
>casing, and promptly detonated.

Mike: Yep, that'll do it.

> A ball of fire expanded from
>the waste disposal, igniting the gases in the Borg atmosphere.
>As each of the pockets of gas became patches of fire,
>organic parts of the Borg became the same texture as burnt
>marshmallows.
>

Mike: There's a Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man joke here somewhere,
but it just ain't happening for me.

> The fleet cheered as pyrotechnics erupted from the
>jet black cube.

Crow: If the Borg would just paint their cubes red, they'd go
much faster.

> There was only a single cube standing between
>victory and the Federation fleet. Judging from the damage the
>phasers were doing, Marrissa was on the last cube.

Mike: They also thought that due to the fact that that cube was
inscribing "I lost to a bunch of Borg" on the side of
the ships that it defeated.
Tom: Standard Star Trek logic: The main characters are always
on the last ship left.

> Marrissa watched during the Enterprise's
>assassination of her ship.

Tom: Assassination?
Mike: Someone used a thesaurus.

>Fires of rage burned within her. They would all serve her,
>they would all become drones.

Crow: So she'll marry them and make them like Jay . . .

> Then, at her whim, they would die.

Tom: In other words, same plan as always.
Crow: She needed to be a Borg for this to happen?
Mike: You know, is there any real difference between Marrissa
as a non-Borg or Marrissa as a Borg?
Crow: Not really. Except for that black bodysuit.

> The remaining ships needed to be out of the way. The cube
>was taking a pounding even as she was thinking, and the
>Enterprise could be seen lining up for another attack, this
>time on her ships exhaust vent. There must be some
>way to defend that weak point, and still destroy the fleet.
>The Collective debated,

Crow: Tastes Great!
Tom: Less Filling!
Crow: Tastes Great!
Tom: Less Filling!

> then decided on a course of action for
>her ship.

Crow: Um, didn't it occur to anyone that once they took out one
ship like that, the *just might* other might adapt? I
mean, them being Borg and everything...
Mike: You're talking about the Ratliff StarFleet here, Crow -
their motto is "One Thing at a Time".

> Jay was positive when the Borg ship swung to face his ship,

Mike: It's a cube. It's armed on all sides. Why would it need
to spin?

>the game had caught up with him at last. The Borg didn't stop
>spinning, in fact, they built up speed. Soon it was swirling
>on all of its axis like a gyroscope, with increasing speed.

Mike: Killing everyone inside due to tremendous centrifugal
forces.
Tom: Gatchaman!
Crow: Or else the Borg are getting ready to use the Death
Blossom.

> The fleet momentarily hesitated, but then continued to
>fire phasers into the swirling vessel. Not putting any faith
>into their "invulnerability", the Borg swiped at any vessels
>that were in range with the lasers. The blue beams of light
>slashed into the few android manned vessels. One last android
>manned Miranda was neutralised with an EMP burst, so the Borg
>could return and assimilate them at a later date.

Mike: Assimilate-On Dating. Your indicator of how fresh your
assimalations are.

> Klingon ships
>were the next to go, as two tractor beams grabbed hold of the
>bow and stern of a Bird of Prey,

Tom: Howard Stern?

> then pulled in two opposite
>directions. With only two Galaxies, an Ambassador, the
>Enterprise, the Kirk, and a Defiant left, the Federation
>fought with what little hope they had left. Stopping its mad
>spin, the Borg once again moved at Impulse

Tom: So, they bounced around hyperkinetically while accompanied
by an aged mentor?

> speed to Earth.
>Phasers licked at its heels, and Quantum Torpedoes lit the
>night.

Mike: Ah, like Marrissa doing a Schwarzenegger earlier.
Tom: I suppose it'll have to do for continuity.

> Tiring of the game, Marrissa took control to the
>penetrating rays and sliced them through the Galaxy class
>Cruisers pursuing her. The Ambassador and Defiant were
>dismantled with equal ease by the web of blue blasts.
>

Mike: See "Web of Blue Blasts" with "Dingos ate my Baby",
"Opie Gone Bad" and "The Cat Made Contact" live at the
Paramount! [Announcer Voice] Sponsored by KBCO.

> Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard had seen countless
>battles, endless diplomatic functions, met innumerous races,

Mike: And he did so irregardless of whether they were
inflammable.
Tom: Here's a hint, Rob - if you're gonna make up words, make
up ones that make sense, for crying out loud!

>and was subjected to the horrors of assimilation.

Crow: But he had yet to meet Bob Sagat.

> Never before
>had he felt so dismal, an entire fleet wiped out. The brave
>men, women along with all the innocent children that couldn't
>be gotten off the ships. All of them now were frozen pieces
>of meat floating in space.

Mike: How... disturbing...
Crow: What, Picard's going to open a deli after this is all
over?
Tom: StarFleet - it's what's for dinner.

> A message came in from Earth, and
>was put on screen. Captain Beverly Picard's face looked
>satisfied when she spoke to her husband.

Crow: How's the battle honey? Did you biff it again?

> "Jean-Luc, the Trinity, the Pasteur and the Intrepids you
>lent us have gathered as many people off Earth that we can.
>We're almost over flowing, but we managed to get a million
>people out. There's still lots left over, though."

Crow: Okay, so the earth's population today is -
Mike: About 6, 7 billion, give or take.
Crow: And by the 24th century, it'll probably be up around -
Tom: Even with colonization and emigration, probably about 20
billion.
Crow: And they managed to get a *million* people off? How?
Lottery? Random choice? People who owe Beverly money?
Tom: Yeah, and how do you hold back the unlucky ones?
Mike: I'm betting the ones left behind are the Induhviduals.

> Beverly
>announced. "Have we beaten them back yet?" Seeing the grey
>look on his face, she mirrored it.

Tom: [as Picard] Stop it!
Crow: [as Beverly] Stop it!
Tom: [as Picard] Stop repeating everything I say!
Crow: [as Beverly] Stop repeating everything I say!

> "The Borg have destroyed the fleet. Only the Enterprise
>and the Kirk are left. We're going to try and dispatch the
>last one with the exhaust vent attack." Jean-Luc looked his
>wife in the eyes before he went on.

Crow: I'm sorry it's the only plan we can come up with. Oh, and
is this a bad time to tell you I'm seeing another
woman?

> " In case we don't make it out, I just want you to know, I
>..."

Mike: [Picard] ...Am still waiting for that Minoxidil you
promised.

> The last words never got out. The computer terminal
>fogged over with static, obscuring the message.

Tom: Damn you Borg! I wanted closure on that scene!

> "Oh, am I interrupting?" came a mocking voice.

Crow: Q! [pause] Well, that's usually who the mocking voice is.

> Marrissa's
>visage appeared on the screen. "It looks like you've lost,
>Locutus. Your fleet is destroyed, and your homeworld is about
>to fall. Soon the Federation will know the order of the Borg."

Mike: [Borg] We are the Borg. We will have eleven billion
Whoppers, 3 billion without tomato, 9 billion fries, 14
billion cokes, and a vanilla shake.
Crow: And supersize it.

> "Marrissa, look inside yourself. The human part of you
>still knows that you will not win." Picard attempted to grab
>at an opportunity.

Mike: [Picard] Uh . . . oh yeah?

>"Think of what would happen if you did win.

Tom: [Marrissa] Oh, I *am*, baby - I AM!!!

> Countless families
>would be subjected to a fate worse than death. You would be
>responsible for it. Could you really live with that knowledge?
>Could you live with killing off the resisting forces, knowing
>that your husband and child were with them?"

Crow: [Marrissa] So what's your point?

> "Your logic is unclear. To us the masses would not be
>killed, they will be added to the Collective. Their energies
>will be put towards more fruitful uses. They will help us
>attain perfection." The Queen argued.

Crow: I blame Pat Buchanan for this.

> "At what cost?" Picard retorted. "You want to strip
>them of feelings and emotions. How do you know that won't
>destroy the perfection you expect to achieve?"

Mike: A good point, but I think his move is still to bore her
to death.

> Marrissa seemed to be momentarily lost in thought.

Crow: Ah, unfamiliar territory.

>The collective recalled many of the races that they had
>assimilated. There had been many creatures with high
>emotions, such as love, hate, sympathy,

Mike: And appreciation for Garth Brooks music.

> and it
>was nearly their destruction. "Emotions have been proven to
>be counterproductive." The stone-hard face responded.

Mike: Marrissa only knows about emotions second hand, however.

> "Oh, really?" Picard smiled, he'd caught her. "If
>emotions are irrelevant to the Borg, why do you feel them?
>You are drowned in hate, desires that are not your own.

Mike: o/~ She's a brick and she's drowning slowly... o/~

> If you
>feel these emotions, then you are counterproductive to the
>Borg. You must be removed."

Crow: Score one for the Pic-man here!
Tom: Well, Rob may not have seen "Disaster", but he's obviously
seen "The Changeling".

> Rage danced across Marrissa's face, then halted.
>"Perhaps you are correct, Locutus.

Crow: As a side note, I always assumed that they picked Picard
to assimilate just because his head is easier to attach
stuff to.

> You would be valuable to
>have back in the Collective. Your knowledge and abilities
>would have greatly aided us. I will destroy you in a moment."

Crow: Oh, let me put that in my scheduler.

>The screen went blank.

Mike: The Borg's screen saver must be activating.

> Picard couldn't believe he'd just signed
>his death warrant. Marching out to the Bridge, Picard ordered
>the Tactical to fire all the Quantum torpedoes at the exhaust
>port when the cube stopped. The torpedoes streaked away,

Tom: Look at that, look at that.

> and a
>content smile came across Picard's face. Just then, a Borg
>disrupter lanced into the port nacelle. The resulting
>plasma feed back caused an explosion that killed off every
>last crew member, and annihilated the Kirk.
>

[Once again, balloons and confetti fall from the ceiling of the
theater. By now, the balloons are noticeably deep. Mike and
the bots dance around some more.]

Crow: Hey, Marrissa! I know where Wesley is hiding!
Tom: Whoa!
Mike: So he killed off Picard?
Crow: Well, Ratliff DID waste Riker once.
Tom: Cool. For once, we get to leave on a happy note!
[The trio exits the theater.]