MSTed: "A New Generation" [5/10] (Ratliff)

[Jamie Plummer]

>
> Chapter Four
>
> On the Romulan Starbase Four, Admiral Soovik was not satisfied
> with Admiral William T. Riker's responses to his questions.

Mike: Admiral Nimitz and Admiral Boorda demanded an accounting from Admiral
Ackbar.
Crow: But Admiral Thrawn stonewalled Admiral Farragut as Admiral Peary threw
up his hands in exasperation.

> "Enough
> evasions, Riker," he snapped. "I need to know the Federation's defense
> plans for Starbase 17 and its nearby outposts."

Mike [Riker]: We're switching from man-to-man to a zone.

> "I wouldn't tell you if I knew," Riker stated.
> "Oh you know," Soovik sneered. "The next Chief of Starfleet Operations
> would not be left in the dark.

Mike [Riker]: "Well, there was that one night with Deanna...

> But perhaps I can persuade you." The Admiral

Tom: ... opened his portfolio. "Can I intrest you in a term life policy?"

> pressed a button on his desk and ordered

Crow: ... o/~ Two triple cheese, side order of fries." o/~

> . "Bring in the Security Chief."
> The young Lieutenant Commander Lochard was brought in. A guard quickly
> strapped him into a nearby chair and hooked a device up to his head.

Tom: "No! Not the rat mask!" *whimper* "Five! Five!"

> "That
> device is a Romulan version of the old Klingon antagonizer.

Mike: Antagonizer?
Tom: I think he means agonizer.
Mike: Maybe it's a device that will introduce a well-rounded nemesis for the
protagonist.
Tom: Oh, somehow I doubt it.

> If you do not
> tell me what I want to know I will activate it," Soovik stated.
> "Threats will get you no where," Riker responded. At that Soovik
> pressed a button and Lochard began to writhe and scream as intense pain
> assaulted his brain. Violent convulsions followed as Lieutenant Commander
> Ross Lochard moved toward his death. Suddenly he gave up the ghost

Crow: Gave up the ghost? What the hell does that mean?
Mike: Maybe he his *Banquo* filed for bankruptcy.
Tom: Oooh. You're gonna pay for that one, Nelson.

> and was still.
> "Get rid of him," Soovik ordered his two guards. As the guards
> removed the Security Chief, dragging him out the door, Soovik

Tom: .. noticed the floor needed a cleaning.

> turned to
> Rear Admiral Riker. "Will you cooperate now? ... I can keep on killing
> your crew ...

Mike: Wait a minute. Did Ratliff just kill one of his characters?
Tom: I think so.
Mike: So this shows us that this Romulan desolation thing is serious business,
I guess.
Tom: Yep.
Crow: I still don't care.
Mike: Guys, maybe if we hang tight, he'll kill some more.
Crow: Wow, you think so?
Tom: We can dream, can't we?

> There are over a thousand of them. Do you want their
> blood on your hands?"

Tom: "Do you know how hard that is to wash off?"

> "His blood and those of any others that you kill will be on
> your hands," Riker replied sharply. "They knew the risks when they
> signed on."

Crow: Riker seems about as moved by what's-his-face's death as we were.

> "Did they?" Soovik replied. "The Federation hasn't been at war
> with a major power for over twenty years. And those children never
> signed anything."

Mike: If I didn't know any better, I'd say Ratliff is acknowledging the
extremely cruel fashion in which these kids were pressed into service.

>
> The runabout's doors opened to reveal the main fighter bay of the
> Enterprise. The bay was immense. It ranged from five to four decks in
> height.

Mike: That really conveys its immensity. Four decks. Wow.

> Symmetrical along the center line, it began with an opening to a
> corridor, above which were two bay windows atop each other. On the left and
> right four levels of twelve fighters were packed two deep. Then another
> corridor entrance, and at a sixty degree angle to the rear of the bay,
> another rank of seven fighters, three decks in height, was placed.

Tom: Wow, I fell like I'm there!
Crow: Really?
Tom: No.

> The center of the bay was filled with ranks of crew members, in red,
> yellow, blue, and green. The racks of fighters had camera men and reporters
> interspersed.

Mike: So Marrissa's putting reporters on the rack now?

> Before the assembled ranks, a raised platform sat, with a
> lectern on it. As Captain Marrissa Picard exited the runabout, the bosun's
> whistle rang out the traditional welcome.

Tom: "Hi, Honey, I'm home!"

> When the whistle ended its song,
> a red clad Lieutenant Commander in the front row's voice rang out,
> "Attention, Captain on deck."

Tom: "Canseco at bat, the count is 2 and 2."

> Marrissa nervously approached the podium. Accessing the platform
> she stood before the microphones and read from a PADD.

Crow [Marrissa]: "Next week on Space Cases, Bova and Harlan... the heck?"

> "Per Starfleet
> Orders, Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, Stardate 60575, Captain Marrissa
> Amber Picard, you are hereby requested

Mike: I'm surprised she even waited to be asked.

> and required to accept transfer
> and the command of the USS Enterprise NCC-1701-F."
> "I hereby accept those orders and command of the Nova Class
> Starship Enterprise," Marrissa stated.
> "The USS Enterprise is now under the command of Captain Marrissa
> Amber Picard," the Computer announced.

Tom: Ooohh... Does she get a commemorative toaster?

> "As is tradition, I have a few words about taking command of the
> Enterprise," Marrissa began.

Crow: A daily tradition Marrissa began herself, about twleve years ago.

> "When I was twelve I met the second Captain of
> the Enterprise-B, Demora

Tom: Then Demora's the Captain?
Crow: No, Demora's the pitcher.
Tom: Then who is the Captain?
Crow: Who's on first.
Tom: I don't know.
Crow & Tom: THIRD BASE!

> Sulu. Being the curious young girl I was, I asked
> her, what does it take to be Captain, in particular that of the Enterprise.
> Her response was a strong sense of honor, and the sense to follow in the
> traditions of Starfleet and in particular that of the Enterprise.

Mike [Marrissa]: "I adopted the qualties of ruthlessness, naked ambition, and
disregard for everything holy instead."

> That wasn't the only advice about command I've received about commanding
> starships. I'm still receiving such advice after five years in command,
> more than a dozen battles, five treaties, and a pregnancy.

Tom: Is she talking about her Starfleet record or her marriage?

> Some of the
> advice was useful.
> "Expect the unexpected. Space is a strange and mysterious place.
> New things are just around the corner, even in explored space.

Tom: It's "Marrissa's Little Instruction Book."
Crow: I think you mean her little *destruction* book.

> "Not everything is logical.

Mike: For instance, "The Marrissa Storys." [sic]
Tom: Geseundhiet.

> Some times you have go on a hunch
> and put yourself at risk. Regulations cannot be made to cover everything.
> "Trust the man on the scene.

Mike: Marrissa's been reading Hayek's "The Fatal Conceit."

> More missions have gone wrong
> because of people following outdated information and over-trusting
> their Starfleet briefing. Command does not know the latest information
> two days ahead of time.

Tom: You know, this is kind of like one of the speeches in an Ayn Rand book.

> "Those are just some of the advice I've received, the more
> quotable ones. Of course I intend to follow the tradition of the
> Enterprise, and be my own Captain.

Crow: Yeah, but even Howard Roark didn't think as highly of himself.
Mike: Well, even Rand didn't write her heroes as perfect as Ratliff.

> "No Captain of the Enterprise has ever been like his
> predecessors, but they shared several traits. One, they were not
> pushovers. Whether it was Kirk against the Klingons; Harriman, Sulu,
> or Garrett against the Romulans; or Riker against the Borg; they did
> not back down, stand aside and let the enemy pass. They fought. They
> pulled tricks from their sleeves, or made new innovations. They did
> everything in their power to avoid defeat, and so will I.

Mike: And I don't think the speeches seemed quite this long, either.

> "Second they trusted their crews, and with the exception of
> Captain Kirk's red shirted ensigns, their crews trusted their Captains."
> Laughter ran around the bay. When it died down, Marrissa continued,

All: Ha!

> "Finally a Captain of the Enterprise is ready to go out and seek new life,
> new civilizations, ... to boldly go where no one has gone before ... I'm
> ready are you?"

All: NO!
Tom: This is a sad day in history...

>
> Marrissa stepped back down from the lectern. Her father, Fleet
> Admiral Jean-Luc Picard stepped up and replaced her.

Mike: Oh. The galaxy may survive after all.

> "Even though most
> of Captain Picard's crew came with her from the Endeavor," he began.
> "I'd like to introduce them all today.

Tom: Oh! Of course.

> When I call your name, please come
> and join Marrissa behind the podium."

Crow [Picard]: "Stay behind Marrissa. Steal her spotlight, and you may die!"

> "Jay Gordon, Commander, First Officer, graduated from Starfleet
> Academy with a 4.0.

Tom: Mike, what was your GPA?

> Clarrissa Sutter-Rozhenko, Lieutenant Commander,
> Chief Engineer and Second Officer, author of many papers on warp theory.

Mike: That doesn't really matter.

> Alexander Rozhenko, Lieutenant Commander, Chief of Operations, noted
> for his 120 efficiency rating.

Tom: What's the matter, Nelson? Not the brightest bulb?

> Doctor Jackson Johnson, Lieutenant
> Commander,

Mike: I'm not from Ratliffland. They didn't anounce my GPA when I was
transfered.

> Chief Medical Officer, number three in the same class as
> the famous Doctor Bashir.

Crow: Obligatory tainting of Deep Space Nine?
Tom: Check.

> Katherine Lochard, Lieutenant Commander,
> Fighter Commander. Martin Sussex, Lieutenant, Ship's Counselor, this
> years Federation's most eligible bachelor according to Pulse Magazine.
> Shayna Sachs, Lieutenant, Chief of Security."
> "Captain Picard, your crew awaits your orders," the Fleet
> Admiral concluded.

Mike: With that, Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Exposition sat down.

> "Thank you Admiral," Marrissa replied.

Crow [Marrissa]: "I don't think the importance can be stressed enough!"

> "Let's get under way.
> Alpha shift report to stations immediately. Dismissed."
>
> The new Command Crew of the Enterprise entered the bridge. It
> was a large bridge. At the front there were three stations, CONN, and

Tom: ... an androgynous ensign in a powder-blue uniform.

> to the right and left, Operations and Science. The traditional
> three center seats were present

Tom: .. *and* accounted for ...

> in the new navy blue Starfleet color
> scheme. Behind them, the rail housed the Tactical station. In the rear,
> Fighter Command and Engineering with some windows looking into an
> lounge

Crow: I wonder if it's a jazz lounge?
Mike: Given Starfleet technology's preoccupation with the 20th century, I
wouldn't be surprised to hear a little Miles Davis or Satchmo any
minute now...

> over a couple stations in between.
> Two turbolifts were located by the main viewscreen with an
> office door on each side of the Bridge. Two-thirds of the way back two
> more doors were seen.

Crow [Marrissa]: "I pick Door Number Two!"
Tom [Monty Hall]: "Sorry, Ms. Flores-Picard, the starship was behind Door
Number One. You win a lifetime supply of strawberry
juice."
Crow [Marrissa]: I knew what was behind that door, mortal! Now give me my
strawberry juice!"

> Marrissa had finished surveying her new bridge and wasn't
> pleased.

Tom: There's a surprise.

> "This is an Admiral's Bridge," she exclaimed. "I'm going to
> have a long talk with Dad."
> "What, Marrissa, you weren't aware of naval tradition,"
> Commander Katherine Lochard said.

Crow [Marrissa]: Are you questioning my omniscience?! You will pay!

> "What naval tradition?" Marrissa asked, sitting herself down
> in the center seat.
> "This is a Fighter Carrier," Katherine began. "Carriers are
> traditionally commanded by Admirals."
>

Tom: *Wince*
Crow: In the name of all that is good, why?
Mike: C'mon guys, let's get out of here.

[Commercials]

Jamie Plummer jc...@virginia.edu http://faraday.clas.virginia.edu/~jcp9j
"It's merely symptomatic of our postmodern ennui. There are no
absolutes unless you perceive our world as meaningless when it's
really your own freedom you detest. I like pork." -- Brak