MSTed: "Treklander", parts 1-4
Petrea Mitchell
[MSTH set. As the opening theme plays, "Jack Perkins" is standing
motionless (as usual), and there is a small U.S. flag on the column
beside him.]
PERKINS: Hello, and welcome. Tonight, we celebrate the good old American
tradition of free speech. First up is a lesson on the roots of
the American Revolution-- did you know that King Louis XV was
directly responsible for the Constitution? For our main course,
a crossover story by John F. Moore III, a man who sticks to his
own personal spelling rules with such conviction-- he should be
an example for us all. So, sit back and enjoy a patriotic Mys-
tery Science Theater Hour.
[roll theme]
...o...2...3...4...5...6...G
[SoL. Servo and Crow are the only ones visible. They are trying hard not
to laugh.]
SERVO: Hello, everyone. Tom Servo and Crow T. Robot here, and we're...
[goes into uncontrollable giggling]
CROW: [gasping for breath] We're just waiting for Joel to find out...
<snicker> what we... <hee hee>
SERVO: [whispers] Oh, here he comes!
[Cambot pulls out a bit as Joel walks into view, wearing a jumpsuit
whose colors have run. Once evenly-colored, it now looks like something
designed by the Grateful Dead.]
SERVO: [clears throat] Hi, Joel, how're you doing?
JOEL: I think someone needs to have a lecture about inappropriate deter-
gents.
SERVO: But Joel, it looks so much better now!
CROW: Yeah! I bet all the women'll-- *dye*!
[Both 'bots start laughing out loud. The "commercial sign" button
flashes.]
JOEL: We'll be right back. [hits button]
[Commercials, commercials, commercials. Coming up at 9...]
[Back at the SoL, Joel has changed into an unaffected jumpsuit. Servo
and Crow have calmed down.]
SERVO: So you're not really mad at us? Not just a bit?
CROW: No time outs or anything?
JOEL: No, let's just let bygones be bygones. That was pretty clever of
you guys, actually. I wouldn't have expected you to do something
like that when some of your clothes were in the wash, too.
CROW: What?
SERVO: You... no!
JOEL: Yup. [pulls a basket of assorted clothing, in the same state as
his earlier jumpsuit, out from under the counter]
SERVO: My nurse's-- I mean, my surgical gown!
CROW: You've been washing *my* loose-fitting jeans with *your* underoos
all along?
JOEL: Yeah, you guys are really smart! [the big red button flashes] Oh,
the Mads are calling. [hits button]
<>
DR. F: Hello, booby! Our invention exchange this week is aimed at the
Generation X market. Frank?
FRANK: Earrings are out. Nose rings are passe. Eyebrow rings are in. This
is your brain on drugs. Live in Arizona. It'z new, it'z--
DR. F: [pushing Frank off-camera] Forget it, Frank. As you know, today's
youth are experimenting with piercing every body part imaginable.
Our studies also show that they're always forgetting their keys.
The answer?
FRANK: [bouncing right back] Key rings!
DR. F: But not just ordinary key rings! [picks up some variously-sized
key rings] Ours are specially made to fit through any part of the
body. Now you can combine the comfort-- so to speak-- of riding
the latest fashion wave with the confidence of knowing you'll
always be able to use your getaway vehicle. Your turn, Joel.
<>
[The basket of clothes has vanished, and on the counter there is now a
four-cup coffee machine, decorated with Celtic interlaces.]
CROW: Can I have my beak pierced?
JOEL: No, honey, it'll get infected.
CROW: Aww.
JOEL: Well, sirs, our invention this week is also based on some new
trends. Almost everyone who lives in downtown Seattle knows that
the wave of the future is made up of gourmet coffee, Celtic music,
and karaoke. That's why we've put together the Celtic Coffee Ka-
raoke Machine! Check it out-- you can make just one cup--
[He switches the machine on. The uneven percolating of coffee into one
cup eventually becomes recognizable as a less-than-thrilling rendition
of "Twa' Corbies".]
CROW: --or up to four, while singing along with your favorite ancient
tunes!
[The machine lauches into a four-part-harmonic bludgeoning of "Tom
O'Bedlam". Joel indicates a microphone hooked up to the machine, then
picks up something that looks like a miniature hopper and puts it on top
of the machine.]
SERVO: And for those of you who enjoy mixing your own special coffees,
this handy grinding attachment!
[Joel picks up a scoopful of coffee beans and pours them into the
hopper. A grinding noise joins the dripping in an utterly hideous
performance of "Black Jack Davy".]
JOEL: What do you think, sirs?
<>
[Frank, standing in the background, is wearing a gigantic key ring,
which runs in one of his ears and out the other.]
DR. F: Your torture for today follows in the footsteps of "Star Dwarf"
and "Highleaper". It's a Star Trek-Higlander crossover called
"Treklander", and it's really, really... not very good. But
first, a brief homage to ineffectual monarchy. Bon appe-die!
[pushes button]
<>
[Alarms are going off, lights are flashing, and the Celtic Coffee
Karaoke Machine is pumping out an unbearable version of "Fair John and
the Seven Foresters".]
JOEL: We got message sign!
[Everyone runs like heck.]
G...6...5...4...3...2...o...
> Path:
> agora.rain.com!pagesat.net!olivea!decwrl!hookup!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!
> howland.reston.ans.net!wupost!csus.edu!netcom.com!netcomsv!midcom!
> liberty.com!Mishka
> From: Mis...@liberty.com
> Newsgroups: alt.culture.internet
> Message-ID: <11684
SERVO: THX 11684.
> KHHUTQE...@liberty.com>
> Subject: KIng Louis XV & America
> Lines: 49
>
>
> King Louis XV & America
>
> Everyone loves King Louis XV of France. (Pronounce King Louie).
JOEL: Oh, I always thought it was "King Huey".
> As the number
> of visits to the replica of his castle in Disneyland would testify.
> After his
> death in the 1700s, there hasn't been a king as worthy to replace
> him.
SERVO: And thank goodness!
> Said
> one french revolutionary, "If we can't have the right king (King
> Louis XV),
CROW: (they always used parentheses in speech)
> we rather not have a king at all." So there was the French
> Revolution which
> sparks off other revolutions in other countries subsequently.
SERVO: Revolutions in tense usage.
> Notably, the
> United States of America, which had a vast French
JOEL: [putting one hand over each 'bot's mouth] Leave it.
> occupied territories at
> the time. In 1787, after the American Revolution, the Constitution of
> the United States was was written; all in the fond memories of King
> Louis XV.
> Note, included in the Constitution, "...No punishment cruel & unusual
> shall be imposed."
SERVO: Then this article is unconstitutional.
> So as to say, the foundings of the United States was originally
> in the name of Good, and in the style and compassion in which King
> Louis had
> governed. And no subsequent man-made errors nor craving from greed or
> selfishness shall tear down the Constitution.
JOEL: Congress-made errors, sure, but not man-made errors.
> The Constitution must be
> upheld. The Constitution may not be as wise or as good as King Louis,
> but
CROW: It has better table manners.
> it's still better than a lot of corrupted proxy (unworthy, fake)
SERVO: Oh, no! It's a multiple-choice test!
CROW: Darn! I forgot my pencil!
> royalties
> (eg: Tzar Nicolas of Russia).
>
> Subsequently, many events had happened to this country, just, unjust,
> corrupt, uncorrupt. Many selfish, corrupt, greed reasonings from
> lesser men
> has led this country to many tragedies. *Sigh*.
SERVO: But enough of that gloomy stuff.
> Only if we have KIng Louis XV
> again! He would have made the right decisions.
>
> Of many things to watch out for, greed for capital gain is like a can
> of
> gasoline in a hot furnace.
JOEL: It makes your parents real angry.
> Shall not the fight of Capitalism Vs. Democracy
CROW: I'm betting on Capitalism-- Democracy has a weak right jab.
> destroy our values & morals of what is right and what is wrong. It's
> alright
> to be kind. It's alright to be good.
ALL: Alright! Alright!
> Who in the world is as worthy as King Louis?
CROW: Ollie North?
> No one. His fond memories is now
> upheld in the very system we live in, hopefully. May the corruption of
> merchant greed in Capitalism not deter the morals of Democracy.
> Justifying
> that Democracy is good enough. "If we can't have a system that is just
> and
> does us right, then we rather not have a system at all!"
SERVO: Yes! Anarchy! Burn all the English teachers!
> We owe what we have today to King Louis. The Liberty/Freedom,
JOEL: Only one or the other?
CROW: Give me liberty or give me freedom!
> the Justice,
> the Comfort of the people. I will always be loyal and think fondly of
> King Louis XV. May good truimph!
JOEL: Well, if that's okay with its parents.
> Long live King Louis!
>
>
>
> ... ... .
SERVO: Small-Scale Entropy?
JOEL: I think they're just cursor droppings.
> ========================= !!! Automated Notice !!! ==================
> =====
> E-mail replies to this user should have the following on the first
> line
> of message text:
CROW: "Bite me".
> TO: Mishka
> =======================================================================
> =====
SERVO: Look! All of the characters in that line are equal!
JOEL: But some are more equal than others.
[disconcerting jump-cut]
> Message-Id: <Pine.3.89.9403141...@christa.unh.edu>
> Mime-Version: 1.0
SERVO: On top of everything else, it's going to be *mimed*?
> Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII
JOEL: Literary merit: 0
> Status: OR
CROW: Oregon?
>
> (There can be only one...
SERVO: Yeah, and this isn't it!
> These are the voyages...)
>
> T R E K L A N D E R
>
> Copyright 1994 John F. Moore III
CROW: Now, that's Moore like it.
> Part 1
>
> CAPTAIN'S LOG: Stardate 48344.5 The Enterprise has been ordered to
JOEL: Guard Tess, a feisty yet loveable ex-First Lady. Oh, for fun!
> Fyla
> VI to recieve Embassador MacLoud,
SERVO: "Embassador MacLoud"?!?
JOEL: I was wrong, guys-- this is going to hurt.
> who has been asked to oversee peace
> talks between two warring factions on Clari III.
SERVO: Or was that three warring factions on Clari II?
> I admit
CROW: Yes, I admit it! I did it! It was me! Call off the search, I can't
hide any more... oh, God, the horror is finally over. [starts to
sob]
SERVO: Crow, have you been taking Gypsy's medication again?
> a small amount
> unease with this mission as Embassador MacLoud is a relatively
> inexperi-
> enced emmissary...
JOEL: I never did like this on-the-job training program.
> Captain Jean-Luc Picard stood in
CROW: A pile of steaming...
JOEL: You, mister, are headed for nap time.
SERVO: [Picard voice] All right, who let the dog aboard? Speak up! Worf?
Deanna?
JOEL: Stop encouraging him.
> transporter room 3 with Commander Riker
> and Councillor Troi, all in dress uniforms. Behind them, the
> transporter chief was monitoring his station.
SERVO: [O'Brien voice] Engineering? Can you get these stupid text
crawls off my monitor?
> "Fyla VI indicates they're ready, sir," the chief said.
CROW: I thought VI wouldn't by Fyled.
> "Energize."
> The transporter hummed
SERVO: A breezy little tune, secure in the knowledge that it was not
a part of this fanfic for long.
> and two figures appeared. The first was a tall
> man in his early thirties with long black hair wearing a loose-fitting
JOEL: Kimono. Karate Kid Part II: The Quickening for Spock.
> shirt and pants under a black sleeveless overcoat. Next to his was a
> man in his early twenties with curly blonde hair and dressed similarly
> to the other man.
SERVO: If writers wrote sentences the way programmers wrote programs...
> Picard spoke, "Greetings Embassador MacLoud,
JOEL: That's an odd title.
> I am Captain Jean-Luc
> Picard. This is my first officer Commander William Riker and Deanna
> Troi, ship's Councillor."
SERVO: She'll be your... hostess for the evening.
> The taller man shook Picard's hand with a firm grip. "I'm pleased
> to meet all of you. I'm Embassador Duncan MacLoud and this is my
> assistant Richard."
> Riker addressed the pair.
CROW: But forgot to put postage on them.
> "We've arranged for a dinner in your honor
> Embassador
SERVO: Unfortunately, you're not invited.
> at 1800 hours, as well as a tour of the ship. If you'll follow
> me I'll take you to your quarters."
JOEL: If you won't, this fanfic will die right now.
SERVO: Talk about wishful thinking!
> MacLoud nodded to Riker. "That would be most appreciated. By your
> leave, Captain?"
> Riker led the pair out of the transporter room as Picard addressed
> Troi.
CROW: But got slapped when he tried to--
JOEL: I think that's better left unsaid.
> "What do you think of him, Councillor?"
SERVO: [falsetto] I think that curly blond hair is cute...
CROW: [falsetto] But he only has eyes for you, Captain.
> "He's very sincere in his desire to help the people of Clari III,
> but there's something...distant about him. I felt it in his assistant
> as well. They're both trying to hide something..."
CROW: [Picard voice] Call the President of Fyla VI and ask him to count
his silverware and other valuables.
> "Do you think they might be a danger to the ship?"
> "I don't think so. They're not hostile, but I sense unrest in both
> of them."
JOEL: Which is highly unusual for people going on a diplomatic mission
in a hair-trigger war zone.
> Riker led the pair to Ten Forward.
> "And this is where we spend our off duty hours. We call it Ten
> Forward."
SERVO: Because it would sound silly if we called it Five Backward.
> Suddenly MacLoud and Richard seemed very distant for a moment.
CROW: Hey! Riker noticed that just like Troi!
SERVO: Yeah... they both have the special psychic ability to sense the
obvious.
> "Something wrong Embassador?"
JOEL: [as Riker] Something you'd like to share with the class?
> MacLoud snapped
CROW: Riker's neck for having the impudence to ask him questions.
> out of whatever he was under. "Umm...nothing
> Commander.
> Would you mind if Richard and I looked around here for a while?"
SERVO: No way! How can I give you a tour of the ship if you keep
stopping to look around for a while?
> "I suppose that would be all right. If you need anything, I'll be
JOEL: Hitting on that hot purple chick over there.
> by
> the viewport."
> As Riker walked toward the tabled by the viewports Richard turned to
> the Embassador, "did you feel it Mac?"
CROW: You mean that grope just now? I'm afraid so.
> "Yes I did, Richie. But who is it? There are so many people
> here...and there's no way of telling if whoever it is will attack us."
> Across the room, Guinan looked at MacLoud and Richard.
SERVO: [as "MacLoud"] Stop looking at me! NOW!
> She then turned
> to Data, who was sitting at the bar near her.
> "Data, who are those two?"
CROW: They're the wackiest pair of cut-ups ever to... uh, that's right,
I'm an android. I'm not allowed to be funny.
> "They are Embassador MacLoud and his assistant Richard. They are on
> a diplomatic mission to Clari III."
> "You don't say...I think those two need a drink."
JOEL: I think anybody who reads this thing needs a drink.
> A waiter approached MacLoud and Richard with two glasses.
> Richard looked confused. "But we didn't order...?"
SERVO: Order, schmorder. There's a two-drink minimum here.
> "They're compliments from...an old friend," the waiter explained.
> "Who is this `old friend'?" asked MacLoud.
CROW: Oh, just take the free drinks and shut up!
> "An anonymous one...by the being's request." The waiter left
JOEL: Absentmindedly leaving his period behind.
> Richard looked agitated. "Great! We may be in danger and we don't
> know who to watch out for!"
SERVO: It's so unfair! I was only trained to fight enemies who an-
nounced themselves in advance!
> MacLoud looked around. "Calm down Richie. The last thing we want
> to do is attract attention to ourselves.
JOEL: Er, maybe we should have thought of that before we got dressed...
> I think it's time we got on with our
> tour."
SERVO: Well, enough of that-- on to the next plot point!
> After informing Riker that they were ready to go, The pair left Ten
> Forward. Guinan watched them leave.
> "Oh, don't worry Mr. MacLoud...you'll find out soon enough..."
>
> Captain Picard sat in his ready room when his door chimed.
> "Come!"
> Riker entered the ready room.
> "Yes Number One?"
> "Permission to speak candidly, sir?"
CROW: Your fly is open.
> "Of course. What's on your mind?"
JOEL: Uh, lymph, sir.
> "I don't trust Embassador MacLoud sir. When we were in Ten Forward
> he appeared to be looking for something rather intently."
SERVO: Over to your left, in that alcove. I really think Guinan should
put up a sign or something...
> "Do you think he plans on endangering the Enterprise?"
> "I don't know sir, but Lt. Worf ran a routine scan on the Embassador
> and found a sword on his person."
CROW: Well, that settles it. The ship's endangered, all right...
> "A sword, Number One?"
> "Hidden beneath his robes. A sword was also found in his
> assistant's robes."
SERVO: *Two* guys with swords? They must be planning a takeover!
> "I'll have Lt. Worf keep an eye on our guests, but Councillor Troi
> doesn't sense any hostility toward us."
JOEL: So if they kill us, we'll be comforted by the knowledge that it
was never anything personal.
> "One other thing I noticed in Ten Forward sir...MacLoud's assistant
> became very restless soon before we left, almost as if he was
> expecting trouble."
> "Could his assistant be a bodyguard, Number One?"
SERVO: No, he's a juggler. The swords are part of the act.
> "I don't know sir. MacLoud doesn't strike me as the type who would
> need a bodyguard."
CROW: Then again, he hasn't struck me at all yet.
> "I'll have someone monitor them while they're on board."
> "Thank you, I'd feel a lot better sir."
JOEL: --if you could spare some punctuation.
> `Enter Program' the Holodeck computer said.
> Lt. Worf was about to enter his usual workout when MacLoud sauntered
> up.
> "Hello, Lieutenant. Mind a little company?"
SERVO: Now that you mention it, yes. Go away.
> Worf looked agitated. "I was about to engage in my daily
> excersizes. I doubt you'd want to join me."
> MacLoud leaned his hand against the wall
JOEL: Wow! How'd he take his hand off?
> and grinned casually at
> Worf.
> "Oh, I dunno...it could be fun."
>
> Richie stalked his quarters.
CROW: Hey, there's a law against that!
> He knew MacLoud would be fine...he was far
> more experienced than he was. He just didn't like the idea of an
> unknown...
SERVO: High school algebra left scars that remain centuries later.
> The door chimed, interrupting his thoughts. "Come in."
> The door opened and the Sense hit him. He suddenly realized his
> sword was in the other room.
JOEL: D'OH!!
> He had to face his opponeent unarmed...
SERVO: With only three small dots to defend himself.
> "Relax, will ya," Guinan said as she entered. "If I was gonna kill
> you I'd have done it long ago."
> "You're...you're the bartender from Ten Forward, aren't you?"
> "My name is Guinan. So you're the Immortal I sensed this afternoon.
> What's your name?"
> "Richie -- Richard."
CROW: Didn't you used to have your own TV show?
> Guinan smiled. "Pleased to meet you Richie Richard. I'm not hotile
> to you. I've been an Immortal for much longer than you'd care to
> imagine.
JOEL: Why doesn't Richie care? Tonight, a special report.
> If I wanted to kill you you'd be dead before you could blink."
> Richie believed her...despite being over 400 years old he was still
> far too inexperienced at fighting other Immortals.
> "Well, it's good to hear that you're on my side. I'll come by and
> we can talk about...old times."
> Guinan smiled and left. Richie decided to consult with Mac before
> he met up with Guinan again. He wasn't sure he fully trusted her yet
> and he wanted to check
SERVO: Her FBI record.
> with MacLoud before he revealed to Guinan that
> there was a third Immortal on board
>
> Part 2
CROW: The Tribes.
> CAPTAIN'S LOG: Stardate 48367.8 The crew has been reporting
> increasing unrest toward the Embassador and his assistant. I am
> planning to meet formally with Embassador MacLoud and discuss this
> in-depth.
SERVO: Committees! Meetings! That's what we need!
> Captain Picard entered the bridge as Riker relinquished the command
> chair.
CROW: I've had it! I resi-- oh, hi, sir.
> "Status, Number One?"
> "We're due to arrive in just under three hours. According to
> reports, the situation on Clari III is becoming volitile.
JOEL: Their spelling has become unpredictable.
> The delegates from each
> side doubt that the cease-fire will last much longer."
> "Go to warp 8, Mr. Data."
CROW: Right here, in front of everyone?
> Data turned to face the captain. "At warp 8, we will arrive at
> Clari III in 1 hour, 26 minutes, sir."
JOEL: Unless we get pulled over for doing Warp 8 in a Warp 5 zone.
> "Good, I'll be in my ready room if I'm needed. You have the bridge,
> Number One."
> As Picard turned to leave, he noticed that an Ensign DeMarcus was
> manning Tactical.
CROW: What?! A secondary character on my bridge?
> "Has anyone seen Lt. Worf? He was supposed to report for duty ten
> minutes ago."
>
> MacLoud and Worf stood back to back as unidentifiably monsterous
> humanoids attacked.
JOEL: It's the return of the the Eye Creatures!
> Worf was breathing heavily. "Have you had enough, Embassador?"
SERVO: Not yet, you Klingon man, you!
> MacLoud glanced back at Worf. "I'm just getting warmed up."
> Suddenly the holodeck intercom switched on as Riker spoke. "Lt.
> Worf, report for duty at once!"
CROW: [Worf voice] Just when I was about to set a new high score!
> Worf suddenly realized that he was late to report for duty.
> "Computer, halt program."
> The battlefield disappeared as the familiar black and yellow walls
> of the holodeck appeared and Worf almost sprinted out of the room.
> "Computer," MacLoud said as Worf exited.
JOEL: Well, don't say bye, then.
> "I'd like to see a dojo from
> Los Angeles, California, Earth, circa 1994...complete with the
> following people..."
CROW: Cindy Crawford, Christie Brinkley...
> Richie entered Ten Forward and sat at the bar. A waiter greeted
> him.
> "May I take your order?"
> Richie simply said, "I'm here to see Guinan."
SERVO: [French waiter voice] Non, monsieur, we do not take zat sort of
order here.
> "I'm sorry, but Guinan isn't on-duty right now."
> "Where would she be?"
> "I'm not sure...she seems to like the botanical gardens."
> "Thanks," Richie said as he went to leave.
SERVO: Kinda suggestible, isn't he? Hey, mister, she seems to like
visiting the airlocks, too!
JOEL: And she seems to like watching the warp drives up close!
CROW: And she definitely likes trying to beam herself to twenty
different places simultaneously!
> As he reached the doors, he nearly bumped into Data and fell on the
> floor.
JOEL: It's Kooky the Attache!
> "Excuse me," Data said as he helped Richie up, "I did not see you.
> Are you hurt?"
> "Only my pride...What species are you? I don't think I've ever seen
> a being with white skin and yellow eyes..."
SERVO: I think this guy needs to work on his pick-up line.
> "I am Lt. Commander Data, and I am an android. You must be Richard,
> Embassador MacLoud's assistant."
JOEL: Doesn't this guy have a last name?
> "yeah. Listen, Commander...I need to find Guinan, otherwise I'd
> love to stay and talk."
> "Perhaps another time. I am interested in you and the Embassador,
> espe-
> cially since I can find no record of your births anywhere in the
> Federa-
> tion."
CROW: [Data voice] Therefore, I had no alternative but to report you to
the Immigration authorities.
> `Oops,' Richie thought. Neither he nor (he thought) Mac had counted
> on anyone checking their birth records.
SERVO: Yeah, right! Like this is the first time that problem ever came
up in the past four hundred years!
> He knew Mac's record wouldn't be on
> file, since births weren't generally recorded in the 1500's, but he
> was certain that if a record of his existance was found it would
> certainly raise some questions.
JOEL: [Picard voice] How did you keep your hair from turning grey and
falling out?
> "Ummm...yeah, sure. Catch ya later."
> As soon as the doors to Ten Forward closed, Richie sprinted to find
> Guinan.
CROW: Unfortunately, he failed a drug test and was disqualified.
> "Commander," Worf said, "we are recieving a transmission from Clari
> III. The cease-fire has been broken and hostilities have resumed."
SERVO: That *is* what usually happens when a cease-fire breaks down.
> Riker sighed. This peace mission could be the end of MacLoud's
> short career as an Embassador in a bloody way.
> "Computer, locate Embassador MacLoud."
> `Embassador MacLoud is in Holodeck 3'
^ ^
JOEL: Check it out, they've got a British computer. See? Single quotes.
> "I'm going down there to inform him of the situation personally.
> Lt. Worf, you have the bridge."
> "Aye, sir," Worf said as Riker entered the turbolift.
>
> Riker entered the holodeck to find a run-down training center.
> MacLoud was helping a well-built black man about his age to his feet.
SERVO: Here, help yourself to my feet.
> "One more time, MacLoud," the black man said.
> MacLoud turned to see Riker enter. "Not yet, Charlie. I think you
> need a break."
CROW: [Riker voice] Don't call me Charlie!
> MacLoud went over
SERVO: --the edge, firing at random...
> to Riker as Charlie sat on a bench catching his
> breath.
JOEL: And tossing it up in the air again.
> "What can I do for you, Commander?"
> "The situation on Clari III has escillated to open fighting."
> MacLoud looked concerned by this.
CROW: But inside, he was jumping for joy!
> "Do you have details?"
> "Not yet, but as soon as we hear we'll let you know. Do you want to
> wait until things calm down before talking to the leaders?"
SERVO: Sounds like a good plan. Wait for the problem to solve itself,
beam down, and take credit for everything.
> "If we wait we may never have a chance. I'm going down there."
> "I can't allow you to beam down without a security detail."
JOEL: Details, details!
> "The last thing we need is more people with weapons down there--"
> "True enough. I mean, two people with swords beaming down is bad
> enough."
> MacLoud looked unconcerned about this discovery. "Richard and I
> carry swords because it's tradition for our people."
> "Is it...tradition... to hide them under robes so they can't be seen
> by the naked eye."
CROW: Yes, but it's also tradition to wear X-Ray Specs, so that doesn't
matter.
> "You'd be surprised how many people get paranoid about people
> carrying weapons."
SERVO: Yeah, they think we might use them or something.
> "Well, I'd appreciate it if you didn't carry them at all while on
> board the Enterprise."
> MacLoud walked over to a glass-walled room on the far end of the
> train-
> ing center and grabbed something. As he exited, Riker saw that he was
> carrying a sheathed sword.
JOEL: [as Riker] Why am I carrying a sheathed sword?
> MacLoud then handed the weapon to Riker.
> "I'll inform Richard to do the same.
SERVO: What, grabbing something?
> We're on your side, Commander."
JOEL: [as Riker] That's what I was afraid of.
> MacLoud walked back toward Charlie, then turned back to Riker. "Oh,
> and I'd like all the information you have on the situation on Clari
> III, if you can."
CROW: Oops! Almost forgot all about that!
> "I'll see what I can do," said Riker as he exited the holodeck
>
>
> Path:
> agora.rain.com!pagesat.net!olivea!uunet!mozz.unh.edu
SERVO: A rolling stone gathers no mozz.unh.edu.
> !christa.unh.edu!jfm
> From: j...@christa.unh.edu (John F Moore)
> Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
> Subject: Treklander, Part 3
> Organization: University of New Hampshire - Durham, NH
> Lines: 138
> Message-ID: <2lir
JOEL: Two lire just to get a message posted? Geez!
> 78$sn
CROW: Hey, they're using TIN!
> 9...@mozz.unh.edu>
> NNTP-Posting-Host: christa.unh.edu
>
> (There can be only one...
SERVO: Don't we wish...
> These are the voyages...)
CROW: ...of a diseased mind.
> T R E K L A N D E R
>
> Copyright 1994 John F. Moore III
>
> Part 3
> CAPTAIN'S LOG, Supplimental: We're approaching Clari III and are
> preparing to beam Embassador MacLoud and his assistant to the surface.
> Commander Riker expresses concern about the pair going down alone
SERVO: But if there's a pair, how can they be alone?
> due to
> the renewed conflict, but the Embassador seems unconcerned. I have to
> wonder if he knows something we don't...
>
> Picard sat on the bridge, monitoring the orbital maneuvers performed
> by the ensign at Ops...
JOEL: Oh, wooow.
> what was her name...Cathaway?
CROW: [a la James Bond] Cathaway. Jane Cathaway.
> Yes, that was it.
> Cathaway had been assigned to the Enterprise two weeks ago from the
> Acadamy.
JOEL: Already she had been assigned work that could endager the lives of
everyone aboard.
> She worked very hard to please her superiors and seemed likable.
> Still, on a ship as big as the Enterprise, it wasn't difficult to
> understand why Picard, or any of the senior officers (except Data) had
> trouble remembering the names of everyone on-board.
SERVO: Or even the names of everybody on the main bridge shift.
> MacLoud entered from the turbolift, getting the attentions of Worf.
CROW: Why, Worf, I didn't know you cared.
> Giving the Klingon a cheery smile, he approached the Captain.
> Picard looked up at him. "Hello, Embassador. I must say this is a
> surprise. I thought you'd be--"
JOEL: --wearing the yellow dress today.
> "Something wrong, Cathaway?"
> Everyone except MacLoud to see what Riker was talking about.
SERVO: The author to take remedial English.
> Cathaway
> seemed concerned, and until Riker alerted the crew, she was staring at
> MacLoud.
> "Nothing, sir," Cathaway said as she turned back at her station.
> "Captain, may I speak to you in private?"
> "Of course, Embassador. We may use my ready room.
CROW: Or we may not.
> You have the
> bridge, Number One."
> As Picard and MacLoud exited the bridge, Riker walked up to Ensign
> Cathaway.
SERVO: Geez, he doesn't waste *any* time, does he?
> "Do I detect a problem with the Embassador, Ensign?"
> Cathaway seemed like a little girl who had been caught with her hand
> in the cookie jar.
ALL: [nervous falsetto laughter]
> "Of course not, sir. But as the Captain was saying, his
> arrival on the bridge was a surprise."
> Riker looked at her sternly. "Your duty is to fly this ship, not
> watch the comings and goings of people who may or may not belong in
> the bridge,
CROW: Or in the brig...
SERVO: Like the author...
> is that understood?"
> "Implicitly, sir.
JOEL: But not actually.
> It won't happen again."
> "See that it doesn't," Riker said as he sat in the command chair.
ALL: [whoopee cushion sounds]
> "What can I do for you, Embassador?"
> "Captain, I don't like titles much, especially
CROW: Lame, uninspired ones like "Treklander".
> in private. Mr. MacLoud
> or Duncan will do."
JOEL: All right, Mr.-MacLoud-Or-Duncan...
> "Very well, Mr. MacLoud. You wanted to speak to me?"
SERVO: No, I wanted to use you for daikyu target practice.
> "Captain, I understand Commander Riker is a little concerned about
> my wanting to go without armed escort."
> "So he tells me. I can't say I blame him. The violence down
> there--"
> "I can handle myself rather well, although...that Ensign out
> there... Cathaway was her name?"
CROW: [a la James Bond again] Cathaway. Jane Cathaway.
JOEL: Didn't you just do that?
CROW: Who's counting?
> "Yes, what about her?"
> "If you could spare her, I'd like to have her along."
> "Rather a strange request...why her and not Lt. Worf?"
SERVO: Because I don't want any more of Worf's "attentions".
> "Because I feel...there's something special about her."
JOEL: I sense she is a main character in this fanfic.
> "I will consult Commander Riker about it.
CROW: Because, as you know, he makes all the real decisions around here.
> What have you discovered
> about the situation on Clari III?"
> "Not as much as I'd like. The two sides were willing to talk peace
> until someone...the reports didn't say who...took over as leader and
> renewed the attacks.
SERVO: Leader of both sides?
JOEL: [Rocket J. Squirrel voice] Say, aren't you Devil Dan Hatful?
CROW: [Boris Badenov voice] No, I be Felonius Floy, I be!
> Most unsettling...
>
> (The Alamo, night:
SERVO: Remember the Alamo!
CROW: How about remembering the plot?
SERVO: What plot??
> Duncan is nursing the wounds of several of the
> defenders of the besieged fort. With him is Pierre DuSable,
JOEL: The token minority.
> a Canadian
> sympathetic to the Texans' cause.
> "I tell you, mon ami, if we can hold out a little while longer ze
> reenforcements will arrive and we'll route Santa Anna's men back to
> Mexico!"
SERVO: Why do we need to route them? If they knew the way here, they
should know the way back.
> Duncan sighed. "I wish I had your optimism, Pierre, but the fact is
> we're running out of supplies. Even if anyone arrives we may starve
> to
> death before then."
> DuSable stood proud. "Zen I shall form a raid to get supplies from
> ze
> Mexicans!"
CROW: If you're going for Mexican food, don't forget to pick up some
Pepto-Bismol.
> Duncan looked at him. "Don't be a fool!
JOEL: Get out of this fanfic while you still can!
> You'll die out there!"
> "Better to die fighting zen to starve to death!"
> Duncan exited the medical shack a moment later shaking his wrist
SERVO: And hoping that in a century or so they'd invent a decent wrist-
watch.
> and
> barring the door from the outside.
> "Forgive me, my friend, but I'm more qualified than you for this
> kind of
> thing."
JOEL: I've been on more idiotic missions than you'll ever see!
> Under cover of darkness, Duncan crept into the Mexican camp. After
> killing a sentry and taking his uniform, he walked into the supply
> area.
> *The mother lode*, he thought as he found two wagons full of food,
> waiting to be unloaded. *This will sustain the Alamo for a few more
> days*
> Suddenly, he Sensed someone.
CROW: [Worf voice] Your ambushes would be more successful if you were
to *bathe* more often.
> Pulling out his sword and turning, he saw
> a Mexican officer enter the tent,
JOEL: They keep their wagons in a tent?
> carrying a sabre.
> "Well, well," he said. "Looks like I found myself a spy. You know,
> spying's a dangerous business...one could lose his head if the
> pressure
> gets too high."
SERVO: [pompous literary reading voice] If you can keep your head while
all about you are losing theirs...
JOEL: [similar voice] Then you will be a *spy*, my son.
> Duncan barely managed to block the Mexican's attack.
CROW: With what? A burrito?
> As Duncan retreated, the Mexican began speaking.
SERVO: Why is it that the villain always tells the hero his plans in
full detail?
JOEL: Union rules.
> "I plan to order
SERVO: Ham and Swiss, on rye.
> my
> forces to attack. That fool Santa Anna will have no choice but to
> order a
> full assault. He wants to play the waiting game, let the Mexicans
> starve
> to death.
CROW: The *Mexicans* starve to death??
SERVO: I guess he just didn't notice all those supplies...
> Doesn't he realize those idiots will die for what they believe
> in?"
> "And you're just the man to help them, right?"
JOEL: Wait! Who's saying what?
SERVO: Accents! We need accents!
> Duncan dodged as the Mexican's slice cut open a bag of flour.
CROW: On second thought, if they waste their food like that, maybe they
*will* starve to death...
> As a
> white cloud hung around them, the pair continued, but Duncan began to
> fight back.
SERVO: A real tactical genius, that Duncan.
> As the battle raged between the two, Duncan seized the
> advantage until the Mexican was forced to his knees.
> Suddenly, there was a loud thunderclap as Duncan's eyes widened and
> he
> fell to the ground.
JOEL: [pained "MacLoud" voice] Ow! I've strained my levator palpebrae
superioris!
> The Mexican put away his pistol and readied himself
> for the Final Strike when he also fell from a gunshot.
> A figure crept up to Duncan. "Mon ami, are you all right?"
SERVO: I just got shot, but, other than that, I'm fine.
> Duncan looked weakly at him. "Pierre? What are you doing here?"
> "I thought you might need some help, especially since it was my
> idea,
> non?"
> The pair walked back to the supplies, leaving the Mexican to
> heal...)
CROW: And leaving the audience to wonder what the heck this scene has to
do with anything.
> "And you hope to reason with a man like that?" Picard asked.
JOEL: Either that or beat his head in. Whatever works.
> "I hope so. But if not I want as few people as possible down
> there."
> "I will recommend that Ensign Cathaway be assigned to you for this,
> if
> you think that she'd be helpful."
> "Thank you Captain."
>
> Julia Cathaway Sensed MacLoud
CROW: Hey, she's related to that Embassador guy!
> exit the Captain's ready room. She tried
> hard not to let it affect her again, though it was easier since she
> knew
> he was there this time. She couldn't let Riker know her secret, and
> he
> really came down on her hard.
JOEL: [suggestively] She *liked* it that way.
> The fact was that she was scared of Riker,
> moreso than any Immortal she'd faced. She tried hard not to come into
> conflict with him, but it wasn't always easy. She heard Riker and the
> Captain discuss something, but was too afraid to do anything but watch
> the
> screen as the planet revolved below the ship.
SERVO: No, when you've really got to worry is when the planet starts
rifling below the ship.
> "Ensign Cathaway."
> Julia nearly jumped out of her skin as Riker bellowed her name. She
> wondered what she did now to deserve his ire.
> "Yes sir?" she said, turning to face them,
JOEL: "Them"? How many personalities does this guy have?
> hoping her nervousness
> didn't show.
> "You're relieved of duty. Report to Transporter Room 5 at 1800
> hours."
> "Yes, sir."
> Julia almost sprinted off the bridge, relieved to be away from
> Commander William Riker.
CROW: Hey, who wouldn't be?
> --
> ************************************************************************
> *****
JOEL: I see it's snowing out east again.
> Prince John III
SERVO: Oh, does His Highness *dare* to try using English grammar?
> j...@christa.unh.edu
> Join the Government of New Atlantis...Email me today and ask
> how!
> "I Feel Like a Number" -- Bob Segar
>
>
>Path:
JOEL: Yes, Mirrim:?
> agora.rain.com!pagesat.net!olivea!spool.mu.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!
> pipex!uunet!mozz.unh.edu!christa.unh.edu!jfm
> From: j...@christa.unh.edu (John F Moore)
> Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
> Subject: Treklander, Part 4
> Organization: University of New Hampshire - Durham, NH
> Lines: 113
ALL: [singing] Take one down, pass it around, Lines: 112!
> Message-ID: <2llo29$i...@mozz.unh.edu>
> NNTP-Posting-Host: christa.unh.edu
>
> (There can be only one...
CROW: Then why have there been four so far?
> These are the voyages...)
>
> T R E K L A N D E R
>
> Copyright 1994 John F. Moore III
JOEL: Just think, there are two more of him running around.
> Part 4
>
> FIRST OFFICER'S LOG: Stardate 48380.1 Embassador MacLoud is
> preparing
> to beam down to Clari III with his assistant and Ensign Julia
> Cathaway.
> I'm a little concerned as to why the only escort the Embassador wants
> is a
> recent Acadamy graduate who's not even associated with security.
SERVO: If you review your choice of words, Commander...
> Richie had finally found Guinan in the Botanical Gardens.
CROW: Right on Kew!
> Of course
> Guinan Sensed him long before he approached but made no indications of
> it.
> "Hello Richard," she said without looking up from the plants she was
> studying. "I was wondering when you were going to show."
> "Hello Guinan."
> "You and your boss have made quite a stir on the ship.
SERVO: You've only been here two hours and met five people, but around
here, that's quite a stir.
> I don't suppose
> he's an immortal too?"
> `Uh-oh...I didn't want her finding out'. Richie maintained his
> cool,
> glad that Guinan was an Immortal and not a Betazoid like that Troi
> chick.
JOEL: "That Troi chick"? Geez, a 400-year-old adolescent.
> For whatever reason Immortals seem to be full humans of Earth descent.
CROW: As opposed to, say, full humans of Klingon descent.
> If
> there were other Immortals, he had yet to encounter them.
> "Why do you say that?" he asked.
> "Mainly because the crew seems to be more aggrivated with him than
> you. But there are other reasons..."
> "Such as?"
> "Neither of you have any birth records within the lifetimes of any
> crewman on board, and Ensign Cathaway Sensed him..."
> "You mean there are FOUR Immortals on board."
JOEL: Great! We've got enough for a bridge game!
SERVO: At this rate, they'll have enough for a minyan.
> "Yeah...scary thought, eh? I had to reassure her that neither of
> you
> were gonna decapitate her. She really is a nice girl, if a little
> high-
> strung."
> "Mind if I ask--"
> "The late 1700's."
> "What?"
CROW: [as Richie] How'd you know I was going to ask when Gustavus III
was assassinated?
> "You were about to ask how old I was right?" Richie nodded in
> response.
JOEL: Oh, great. Ask a lady her age. Hasn't this turkey learned *any*
social graces in four centuries?
> "I experienced the Awakening in the 1700s in the Southern US. My
> master
> beat me to death.
SERVO: Actually, it was his wives-- they noogied me to death.
> I remained anonymous until Earth started space travel
> in earnest.
JOEL: And it's important to be earnest, you know.
> It was then that I left Earth. My ship fell into a wormhole
> into deep space. It was there that I met my first alien, the last sur-
> vivor of a people that had been destroyed by the Borg. He died in my
> care
> some five months later,
CROW: Remind me to never ask for you as a nurse.
> but I had learned much about his culture. Event-
> ually I found my way into Federation space and I met Picard.
SERVO: You mean, met Picard *again*, after that time in 1890-whatever.
CROW: Hey! When Guinan met Picard in the 1890s, she didn't know
anything about that alien, so how did she keep her story straight?
JOEL: Forget it. Just forget it. You're trying to have this all make
sense, and it just doesn't...
> I claimed to
> be a member of the race the alien belonged to.
SERVO: So many aliens races look exactly human, no one ever doubted me.
> And the rest is history.
> Now what about you and MacLoud?"
> "I was Awakened in the 1990s. I was hanging around with Mac back
> then
> too, along with his girlfriend Tessa. Tessa was shot to death by gang
> members. I was shot that day too.
CROW: Along with any chance I might have had of a decent acting career.
> I've been travelling off and on with
> him ever since.
> "Mac I'm not too sure of. I know he's been around since the 1500s
> but
> he doesn't talk much about his Awakening. I know he's battled more
> Immortals before I met him than I've seen since hooking up with him.
JOEL: He's changed him!
> And
> what about Cathaway?"
> "I don't know much about her. She tends to avoid me, or any
> Immortal."
>
> MacLoud sat in his room staring at a picture when his door chimed.
SERVO: Hey, watch it out there!
> "Yes?"
> The door slid open as Cathaway entered.
> MacLoud stood. "Ah, Ensign. Come in, please."
> Cathaway looked nervous. MacLoud tried assuring her, "Come on, I
> don't
> bite,
CROW: Unless asked, of course.
> and I don't attack unless threatened."
> Cautiously, she entered. MacCloud
JOEL: McCloud!
> could see her white-knuckled death-
> grip on her sword, expecting an ambush of some kind. Slowly, he put
> his
> hand, his sword hand, on hers and gently guided it to a nearby table.
SERVO: I've heard a lot of euphemisms, but boy!
> "We're all friends here, Cathaway...I promise I won't hurt you. Now
> put
> the sword down..."
> Something in MacLoud's voice calmed her enough that she released her
> grip on her sword. Breathing a sigh of relief,
JOEL: I didn't inhale!
> MacLoud backed away.
> "Would you like something to drink?"
> "Ummm...no thank you."
> MacLoud walked to the replicator. "2 Synthales"
> Two mugs of the liquid
CROW: --which was almost, but not entirely, unlike tea--
> appeared and he brought both to Cathaway.
> "I said I wasn't thirsty, sir."
> "Stop with the formalities and the pretenses. I'm Duncan MacLoud of
> the
> clan MacLoud, not Embassador MacLoud. I'm an equal, not a superior.
> The
> only difference is that you think I'm going to trick you into a
> compromis-
> ing position
SERVO: And get some really hot blackmail holograms, heh heh.
> so I can kill you and take your Quickening.
JOEL: And watch, and wallet, and jewelery...
> To prove that
> I'm not going to, I'll let you choose the drink,
CROW: Huh? But you already picked synthale!
> that way if I've
> poisoned one you have a 50% chance of choosing the other one, and if
> I've
> poisoned both then we'll both recover at the same time and it won't
> make
> a difference. Now take the drink."
SERVO: Probability 101 will air again Thursday at 11 a.m.
> Cathaway chose one and they both drank at the same time. When no
> ill
> effects occoured, Cathaway relaxed a little.
CROW: I feel fine! It's not effecting my speling a bitt!
> "You're probably wondering why I asked you to join my little party
> planetside?" MacLoud asked. Cathaway nodded.
JOEL: I need someone hand out noisemakers.
> "Well, I don't want any
> mortals endangering themselves needlessly, but we're relatively
> safe--"
> "Unless someone phasers us at maximum level," she said.
SERVO: Geez, such a worrywart!
> "Well, there is that, and there's little I can do about it if they
> try,
> but other than that we're safe."
JOEL: We're in deadly danger, but, other than that, we're safe.
> Cathaway noticed the picture on the table next to where MacLoud was
> sitting. "Who's this? Another Immortal? A sweetheart, perhaps?"
> "No, it's someone I loved a long time ago. I did my best to save
> her
> life, but..."
SERVO: ...it had been decades since that Red Cross seminar, and,
well...
> Cathaway turned to him. "I know the feeling. When I was on my
> training
> cruise, we were struck by an asteroid that got past our nav shields.
CROW: See what happens when you shield yourself against navigation?
> The
> section where we were hit was the section where my fiancee and I were
> walking. The whole section went up in flames.
SERVO: You can't have flames in space!
> I was Awakened that day.
> No one else survived the explosion. To this day I wish that I hadn't
> been
> cursed with Immortality."
> "I didn't know--it's hard falling in love with an Immortal knowing
> that
> you'll outlive her, possibly by centuries...but I can't imagine what
> it's
> like--"
JOEL: --being in some decent fan fiction.
> Cathaway turned to face him. She was crying. "That's right,
> MacLoud!
> You can't know the pain I endure every day, knowing that my Adam
SERVO: [falsetto] My Adam-12--
> is
> dead
> because he wasn't born into this curse!"
> She grabbed her sword and ran out of MacLoud's room.
>--
JOEL: Just as the author ran out of steam.
SERVO: You can't have steam in space!
> ************************************************************************
> *****
CROW: I see stars!
> Prince John III j...@christa.unh.edu
> Join the Government of New Atlantis...Email me today and ask how!
> "I Feel Like a Number" -- Bob Segar
JOEL: "I Feel Like a Free Man" -- I Wish.
[Zeveral commercialz later...]
[SoL bridge. Joel, Servo, and Crow are all wearing Enterprise-style
badges. Joel is also wearing a fake beard, a beard that practically
screams, "Who the hell am I fooling?" Gypsy, dressed as Guinan, is
pacing purposefully about behind them.]
CROW: [as Data] Captain, reports show that the situation is worsening.
Bite me.
JOEL: [as Riker] Sir, I strongly feel we should do something.
SERVO: [as Picard] The Prime Directive, Number One. You know it as well
as I. Wait, [starting to slip out of Picard mode] did Data just
say "bite me"? Data doesn't say "bite me"!
JOEL: Uh, it's, uh, his evil twin, Lore! Oh no!
CROW: For my research on humanity this week, I've decided to study the
habits of one of the great 20th-century personalities, one Crow T.
Robot. Millions of humans patterned their lifestyles after him.
SERVO: Great personality? I don't *think* so!
CROW: Bite me.
JOEL: Hey, calm down, you guys. Let's just get on with the skit.
SERVO: Okay. Um, where were we?
JOEL: Uh...
CROW: Bite me.
SERVO: Crow!!
JOEL: C'mon, Crow, stop that. The, uh, situation. [back to Riker mode]
I feel we should do something, sir.
[Gypsy paces across in the foreground once.]
SERVO: Under the Prime Directive, we can do nothing.
CROW: Captain, our sensors indicate the situation has reached a critical
point. Bite me.
SERVO: Aw, heck, phaser them all. You only live once. Shoot those ships,
too. We've already shot this whole skit. [glares at Crow, then
does a very good imitation of stomping off, for someone who does-
n't even have feet]
[Joel sighs and takes the fake beard off.]
CROW: You think it was something I said?
[Joel looks like he's about to say something rather acidic, but the mo-
vie light flashes, alarms go off, etc.]
JOEL: Message sign!
[The picture freezes with Joel about to hit the big red button. The fake
beard has flown out of his hand, and is on a collision course with
Gypsy, whose costume is falling into disarray. Servo is a blurry shape
just at the edge of the picture, and Crow is in a random state of panic.
Fade to the MSTH set, where "Jack Perkins" is holding a large sword.
Another sword is resting against the column next to him.]
PERKINS: [pointless chuckle] It just goes to show that, like a high jump
and a low ceiling, some things just don't mix. Well, that's all
for tonight, but tune in next time for the Mystery Science The-
ater Hour.
[The lights go down, and one of the techies comes out and appears to be
talking with Perkins. Roll theme...]
MSTed by Steve Brinich, Jason Cohen, & Petrea Mitchell
Host segments and other boring stuff by Petrea Mitchell
[Perkins turns around for some reason. The techie grabs the claymore
that was leaning aganst the column. Perkins turns around just in time to
start defending himself, but is being pressed back.]
Mystery Science Theater 3000, its characters, situations, merchandise,
and dust bunnies all copyright Best Brains, Inc. This MSTing not en-
dorsed, authorized, or supported by anybody. This is not meant as a
personal attack on Mishka, John F. Moore III, or King Louis XV of
France, but if any of them should learn from it, the world will be a
better place. "Treklander" reproduced by honest-to-goodness permission of
the author. This article may be freely distributed as long as this para-
graph remains intact.
[Perkins and the techie move off the set, still duelling...]
If you'd like to MSTify some deserving piece, contact <misties-request
@jg.cso.uiuc.edu> to join the "dibs" mailing list. Stay tuned for
"Treklander" parts 5-8, and a final word from Mishka, same alt.time,
same alt.channel!