MiSTed: Ratliff's "Time Speeder" (1/4)
Mike Barklage
MiSTed: "Time Speeder"
Written by:
Mike Barklage (editor)
Petrea Mitchell
Jess Nevins
With contributions from:
Christine Malcom
Chris French
Veronica Hogan
Original story by:
Stephen Ratliff
"Time Speeder, I'm begining to wish I never posted that story."
-- Stephen Ratliff, 13 Aug 1996,
rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc
[No theme song. The scene simply opens on...]
[The Edge of the Universe. In the background is the abandoned Satellite of
Love, bathed in the eerie glow of a mystical light. Six multi-colored
balls of light frolic amongst the stars. Two of the colored lights, Cambot
and Magic Voice, are silent. The others -- Mike, Tom, Crow, and Gypsy --
are laughing and cheering as they play.]
GYPSY(Purple light): Whee! Hey, this is fun!
CROW(Yellow light): Yeah! Bein' all-knowing and all-powerful and stuff
is really pretty cool!
TOM(Red light): Hey, Mike, race ya to Proxima Centauri!
MIKE(Blue-white light): You're on!
[Tom and Mike "line up" in preparation for the race.]
TOM: Okay, ready... set... GO!!
[Tom starts to move, but abruptly stops. Mike darts off-screen.]
TOM: <laughs>
[Mike returns from off-camera, moving slower.]
MIKE: Hey, that's not funny.
TOM: All knowledge is clear to you, and yet you *still* fall for that
old gag! <laughs again>
CROW: Hey, Tom! It's *really* impressive and all that you can trick Mike
with dumb old jokes, but can you bend space to your will? Watch this!
[Crow disappears, then instantaneously reappears in another place.]
GYPSY: Neat!
TOM: Neat? That's nothing. I've been able to do that since Crow here
was still in training wheels. I can control both time *and* space!
CROW: Oh, you can not.
TOM: Can too!
CROW: Can not!
TOM: Can too!
CROW: Can too!
TOM: Can not-- D'OH!
[Everyone but Tom giggles.]
TOM: Okay, goldenrod, I'll *prove* it to you! Watch THIS!!
[Tom begins shaking back and forth.]
GYPSY: Are you sure this is really a good--
MIKE: Be careful, Tom, you could--
[All of the balls of light disappear. A moment later, so does the SOL.]
[Bridge of the SOL. Mike, Tom, Crow, and Gypsy blink into existence. They
have returned to their corporeal forms.]
TOM: See? I *told* you I could do it!
MIKE: Yah! We're back on the Satellite of Love!
TOM: Yep!
CROW: <looking out window> Looks like we're back in Earth orbit.
[They all just stand there for a moment.]
CROW: Huh.
MIKE: Okay, that's enough, Tom. Send us back.
TOM: No problem. Here goes!
[Tom begins shaking back and forth again. Nothing happens.]
TOM: Um... let me try that again.
[Tom does it again. Still nothing.]
TOM: Oh poopie...
MIKE: What's wrong?
TOM: <weakly> I, uh, no longer seem to be able to bend space and time
to my will... heh heh... oops...
CROW: Oh, *good* one, Servo.
MIKE: You mean to tell me that you sent us all back in time to a point
at which we no longer have our non-corporeal powers?!
TOM: Pretty much. Um... are you mad?
GYPSY: Mike's not the one you have to worry about, you little SNOT!
[Gypsy lunges for Tom. Tom hides under the counter while Mike holds her
back, trying to prevent her from smashing Tom.]
GYPSY: Let me at him! Let me at him!
MIKE: Come on, calm down, Gypsy!
[Gypsy begins to calm.]
MIKE: There you go. It's no big deal, all right? We just have to figure
out a way to get back. Okay?
GYPSY: Okay.
MIKE: Now, let's find out exactly when we are...
[Mike pushes the Mads button.]
MIKE: Um... sirs? Or sir? Or madam? Whoever? Hello?
[Deep 13. There are stacks of boxes everywhere, but no sign of any of
the Mads. Finally, Dr. Forrester enters, carrying another box. He sets
down the box and prepares to return for another when he glances at the
screen and does a double-take.]
DR.F: Hello, Mike, botkins. You're early today. You just caught me in
in middle of a little redecorating. You see, Mother just arrived,
and while I had planned on letting her stay in Frank's old bedroom,
it turns out that she needs more space than an Iron Maiden can
provide. Hence, the boxes.
MOM F: <offscreen> Clayton! Your mother needs some help with her steamer
trunk!
DR.F: <shouting> In a minute, Mother! <to Mike> Anyway, I hadn't planned
on beginning this week's experiment until later, but since you seem
*so* eager... <laughs evilly> Your movie today is a little space-turd
called "Night of the Blood Beast," and...
[SOL.]
MIKE: Seen it.
[D13.]
DR.F: <shocked> Wha...? You've *seen* it?
[SOL.]
MIKE: Sure. Astronaut get impregnated by shrimp. Goofy monster that looks
like a parrot and sounds like Bogart. You know.
[D13.]
DR.F: Ah. I see.
MOM F: <offscreen> CLAYTON!!!
DR.F: IN A MINUTE, MOTHER!
[Dr. Forrester bends down and picks up a box full of tapes. He rifles
through them, looking at the titles.]
DR.F: Well then, I'll just have to go with plan B. This movie is called
"The Brute Man," and it stars Rondo Hatton as...
[SOL.]
CROW: Oh, we've seen that one, too.
[D13.]
DR.F: You have?! Well, what about "Deathstalker?" "Escape 2000?" "The
Incredible Melting Man?" "Laserblast?"
[SOL.]
MIKE: Seen 'em.
TOM: Taped 'em.
CROW: Hated 'em.
[D13. Mother Forrester has entered and is standing behind Dr. Forrester,
who is searching frantically through the box of tapes.]
DR.F: <panicked> You've... seem them... all?! How could...
MOM F: CLAYTON!!!
DR.F: <flinching> Yah!
MOM F: I need help carrying my steamer trunk! Would you let your poor old
mother strain her back lifting it all by herself?
DR.F: No, Mother... I just... ran into a little problem here...
MOM F: So I heard. Can't even keep your own evil experiments organized.
<sigh> What would your father say?
[Mother tsk-tsks and walks off-screen.]
DR.F: Look, Mike, I'm a bit busy so...
[Forrester reaches off-screen and retrieves a computer disk.]
DR.F: Why don't you have a look at this? I *was* going to save it for a
special occasion, for when your spirit was about to be broken, but...
<sigh> It's called "Time Speeder," and it's by Stephen Ratliff. Enjoy.
[SOL. Mike, Tom, and Crow are aghast.]
CROW: Stephen... Ratliff?
MIKE: Tom, are you ABSOLUTELY SURE you can't get us back?!
[Tom begins shaking violently.]
GYPSY: I'm outta here.
[Gypsy exits stage right. Alarms and buzzers go off.]
MIKE: AAAAAH! WE GOT RATLIFF SIGN! NOOOOOOO!!!
6... 5... 4... 3... 2... *...
[Mike and the bots enter the theater.]
CROW: Tom, I will never, ever speak to you again.
TOM: <sniffling> I'm sorry... I didn't know...
MIKE: All right, you guys. Let's get it together. We've got to fight off
this fanfic, and it won't help if we're bickering and arguing over
who killed who. Okay, guys? Team?
CROW: Okay, team.
>
>
> Star Trek /#######[)
> The Next Generation \\
> The Marrissa Stories \\____-~-_____
> The Stargazer Missions #O#############
MIKE: The Celestine Prophecy
TOM: The Dragon Reborn
CROW: The Vampire Lestat
> // `-./
> Time Speeder //
MIKE: CHiPs in the 24th-and-a-half century!
> \#######[)
> by Stephen Ratliff (srat...@runet.edu
CROW: Did you know that if you scramble his name and leave out a few
letters, you get "Saten Filter"?
TOM: Ooh, that's a stretch. You can't even spell Satan right.
CROW: Well, this *is* Ratliff, after all -- I think that's appropriate.
>
> Dedicated to :
>
> My Dad, Donnie Fred Ratliff, Vulcan and Mister Perfection,
MIKE: I think Steve has a few "issues" to work out with his dad...
CROW: <adult> You'd better have everything under 5 letters spelled right
this time, son.
TOM: <kid> Boy, dad, you're really into tough love!
> (Yes that's his real first name,
MIKE: That's just his first name??
> if you don't believe
> it, ask his mother, Ocie)
CROW: Yes, it's Ocie, Steve, and Donnie Fred -- the Beverly Trek-billies!
TOM: <singing> Come listen to a story 'bout a boy named Steve
Wrote some crappy stories, made all the MSTies heave...
>
> and
>
> The Computer Help Desk at Radford University
MIKE: Too bad they couldn't help him with his writing.
>
> especially,
>
> Todd Joyce, mister I don't know it all
TOM: Sounds like a typical lab staffer to me.
> Rhonda Smith, the help desk's resident Mom and Mac
> expert
CROW: There, there, a little chicken soup will make that nasty Michelangelo
virus go away.
> and
> Bruce Buskill, the closest thing Radford has
> to a repair person for Voyager's Computers.
MIKE: Let me guess - even in the 24th Century, Microsoft makes
you wait an hour on the help line, am I right?
>
> Prologue
>
> Lyam Sympton was your average human from the outside.
TOM: But on the inside, he was filled with E-Z Cheese.
> You would
> have never guessed that those brown eyes and brown hair covered a obsessed
> man.
CROW: Well, if I were covered with eyes and hair, I guess I'd be obsessed,
too.
> Most people believed that Starfleet was
MIKE: ...the creation of several tedious, overrated television shows.
> an organization devoted to
> Science and Exploration which also protected the Federation's borders.
TOM: So Starfleet's responsible for stopping the Taco Bell ads?
> Lyam believed that it was a military organization just waiting for an
> opening to take over the Federation.
CROW: But unfortunately there were darn few positions available, and they
always hired from within.
> He was willing to die for his convictions,
> and he wasn't the only one.
> However times being what they where, he did not need to die.
> He had a plan instead.
MIKE: <Rowan Atkinson> A plan so cunning, you could pin a tail on it and call
it a weasel!
> In order to carry out that plan however he needed a
> constitution class starship.
TOM: ...and two cotton balls, a blender, and a rubber hose.
> This was not an easy item to find but if you
> looked hard enough one could be bought or 'borrowed'.
CROW: Man, these college scavenger hunts are getting brutal...
> As for why he wanted one, that was simple, perhaps too simple.
MIKE: Perhaps simple enough that this story will need an enormous amount of
padding.
TOM: You can bet on it.
> Seeking more information to further his theory on Starfleet a friend of his
> had tapped into Starfleet's mission log recorders.
TOM: Yup, just about anybody can do that, right?
CROW: I wonder if they used a Macintosh Powerbook, like in "Independence Day."
MIKE: Or "Mission: Impossible."
TOM: Or "Hackers."
CROW: Or "The Net."
> In particular, those of
> the original Enterprise. Lyam laughed at the irony that Starfleet would
> provide it's own undoing.
MIKE: He may be a homicidal maniac, but you gotta admit, he's got a great
sense of humor!
>
> Marrissa Amber Picard, Princess, heir to the throne of Essex,
> Chief helmsman,
TOM: ...athlete, denture wearer...
> starship Enterprise,
CROW: She's a starship, now, too?
MIKE: <Marrissa> I *am* the starship Enterprise! ZOOOOM!!!
> was packing some of her stuff up in
> preparation for transfer,
TOM: <Marrissa> Hmmm... Double D batteries... all of Starfleet Barbie's
accessories... oh, where did I put that spray bottle of Riker-Away -
can't let him get too close to me...
> when her adopted father entered her room caring
> the sleeping form of his one and a half year old daughter Jackie. "I knew
> Jackie was annoying you, but enough for you to
CROW: ...kill her?!
> pack for a sleep over at
> Clara's?" her father commented.
CROW: Oh.
> "I'll have to watch her more carefully."
MIKE: And I'll have to make that garbage disposal childproof sometime.
> "Dad, did you even read the transfers you approved last week?"
> Marrissa asked. "I'm packing to join the Stargazer as her second officer
> and fighter commander. You approved."
TOM: <whiny kid voice> Daaaaadd, you said I could!
> "I can honestly say that I just signed them and sent them off,"
> Jean-Luc Picard said. "I didn't even look at them.
CROW: <Picard> You know me. I never look at what I'm signing. That's how
I ended up adopting you, remember?
> You say you are
> leaving. I didn't know."
MIKE: <singing> You say you're leaving, well I didn't know - let it show,
yeah, let it show.
> He kidded lightheartedly.
TOM: Hey, I'd be lighthearted if Marrissa was leaving me.
> "And Vulcan froze over," Marrissa replied.
CROW: Hahaha! Give it up for the future empress of the galaxy, folks!
> "Since you
> encouraged Lieutenant Lockard to apply for the Chief Tactical Officer
> position and backed him very strongly, after my request pasted your desk
> I'd say you know quite well."
MIKE: Hmmmm... I think some wood glue would be more appropriate.
> "Can I get anything past you?" the Admiral asked.
> "Maybe a torpedo at warp 9," Marrissa joked.
TOM: <Picard> Don't tempt me.
> "You do realize
> that your pushing Lockard made you lose your chief helmsman, one of your
> more promising Security officers and the assistant chief helmsman."
CROW: He's taken them all hostage.
> "Lieutenant Szustakowski?" her father asked.
ALL: Gesundheit.
> "I haven't seen her request yet."
> "Ross asked her to marry him last night," Marrissa replied.
> "She dropped off the transfer request and a request for you to marry them
MIKE: <Marrissa> But this time don't insist on your right to sleep with the
bride beforehand, okay, Dad?
> while you were singing Jackie to sleep with the Doctor."
TOM: Either Picard was singing a duet with Doctor Crusher, or he was singing
a song called "Jackie" to get Crusher to sleep with him.
CROW: Either way, it's just wrong.
> "Well tell Captain Washington that I sent four of my best when
> you pick her up at Deep Space Nine," Picard said.
MIKE: Your best what? Marbles? Wigs? Eight-sided dice? What?
> "I assume you have taken care of your Kid's crew."
MIKE: <pointing to head> You mean "take care" of them??
CROW: No, no, I mean take her out to dinner, show her a good time...
> "Yes, Clara will take over when I leave," Marrissa said.
> "Alexander moves to first officer, Patterson takes second."
TOM: <Harry Caray> ...just beating the throw by a step!
> "Who replaces Alexander at Ops?" her father asked.
> "You will have to ask Clara that," Marrissa replied. "You
> better get Jackie to bed before she wakes up."
MIKE: Not only is she the best officer in Starfleet history, but now
she's giving parenting tips.
> "I will, Marrissa," Admiral Picard responded.
CROW: <John Cleese> Yes, *dear*, I'm doing it, *dear*...
> "Have Princess
> Clarrissa see me sometime tomorrow."
TOM: I want her to explain it all.
> "I'll tell her royal highness that you wanted to see her,"
> Marrissa responded.
MIKE: <sarcastic> Oh, *thank* you *soooo* much.
> "I assume since you are leaving Kid's Crew command, are you
> giving up the position of supervision officer of all Kid's crew," the
> Admiral stated.
CROW: *Please* say you're giving up supervision of the Kid's Crew. *Please*.
> "Unfortunately not," Marrissa said. "I told Admiral Necheyev
> that I'd like to foster that position off on Jay Gordon, but she didn't
> see the need for me to leave that position.
TOM: By the way, could you tell me what she meant by "Burn, baby, burn?"
> I've got to be serving in
> the most unique position in Starfleet.
ALL: *giggle*
MIKE: Okay, can we come up with a clean riff here?
CROW: Um...
TOM: How about, those years of contortionist school are finally paying off!
MIKE: Good work!
> I'll be Starfleet's first fighter
> commander since fighters went out of service back in 2290.
CROW: Let's hope for a reenactment of "Tora Tora Tora."
> I'm a Lieutenant
> Commander with clearance of a full Admiral, because I'm also the heir to
> the throne of Essex.
TOM: So Starfleet just hands over top security clearance to royalty on any
ol' dumb planet?!
> In addition on the Stargazer I'll have under my
> command about 30 Cardassians.
MIKE: Woo hoo! Now we have someone to root for!
> If that wasn't enough, I'm the supervising
> officer of the Kid's Crew program, which covers two dozen starships.
CROW: Are they all as annoying as Marrissa's?
> How
> a shy little girl like me every got in such a position is a mystery."
ALL: *sigh*
TOM: Easy, Marrissa - you've got a bad writer doing your stories for you.
> "Marrissa, you haven't been shy since you broke Sel Rahc Selaw's
> legs," Admiral Picard exclaimed.
MIKE: <Marrissa> Hey, he owed me money!
CROW: Homicidal, yes. Psychotic, yes. Shy, not particularly.
> This of coarse caused Jackie to wake up
> and yawn.
TOM: We hear ya, darlin'.
> "I told you you should have put her to bed," Marrissa commented.
MIKE: Along with your dreams of becoming a writer, Steve-o.
> "Jackie no bed," the little girl in Admiral Picard's arms said.
CROW: Man, the Sioux must *really* be running out of names to call themselves.
> "Oh yes you are, my little lady," her father replied.
> "Come on Jackie, I'll read you a story," Marrissa replied.
MIKE: Once upon a time, a power-mad 13-year-old overthrew a powerful
starfaring society...
> "If
> you go to bed, you can be up early enough to look over my new ship before
> I leave."
> "'Rissa leave?" Jackie asked.
TOM: <Jackie> Please?
> "Not till tomorrow," Marrissa told her little sister.
> " 'Rissa no leave."
TOM: <Jackie> Damn!
>
> Chapter One
CROW: Audience 0.
>
> Clara Sutter and Marrissa were saying their good-byes before the
> Stargazer meet the Enterprise. "I'll miss you Marrissa," Clara said.
MIKE: Well, don't lead her so much then, Clara - just point and squeeze
the trigger.
> "I know you will, Clara," Marrissa replied.
TOM: <Marrissa> I know everything, after all.
> "but you are going
> to leave for Starfleet Academy in a couple months. I'll try to arrange
> to be your transportation."
CROW: I guess she really *is* the starship Enterprise.
> "OK," Clara said. "but, I want you to promise me one thing."
> "What's that," Marrissa asked.
MIKE: Never come back!!
> "Thanks to your encouragement, I have a promising Engineering
> career," Clara said. "Don't get yourself killed.
TOM: <Clara> *I* want to be the one who... uh, never mind.
> I'd like to become
> Chief Engineer some day and becoming a Queen, as you once said, is not
> conductive to a career in Starfleet."
CROW: What a shocking comment. <pause> See, conductive... electricity...
oh well.
> "OK, but you have to promise to take good care of my Kid's
> Crew," Marrissa said. "I put a lot of time into making them the best
> and I don't want it to go to waste."
MIKE: Oh, *your* time, *your* Kid's Crew! What about *my* needs?
> "Deal," Clara promised. "Do you a have any advice for me on
> that?"
TOM: One word: Ritalin.
> "Just remember that you have to be willing to make the big
> decisions," Marrissa said.
CROW: <Marrissa> Chemise or teddy? Pink nailpolish or purple? And, of
course, bra or no bra? Of course, that'll never be a problem for
*you*....
> "When you are in command, you have 1000+
> lives in your hand.
MIKE: Remember to wash it before you eat.
> Be firm and decisive. Hesitation is something to
> avoid.
TOM: <Marrissa> So is thinking. Just shoot first and ask questions later.
That's what I've always done, and look where it's gotten me!
> Other than that, just be yourself. Don't try to copy anyone
> else.
CROW: <Marrissa> Not even me, although I *know* you want to, stupid
copycatter.
> That leads to defeat."
MIKE: ...and the Dark Side of the Force.
> "Marrissa, you are a fountain of wisdom," Clara replied.
TOM: In the same way a broken toilet is a fountain of wisdom.
> "I'm just repeating what Commander Riker told me," Marrissa
> responded.
CROW: Well, the clean parts, anyway.
> "Admiral Picard to Lieutenant Commander Marrissa Picard."
> "Marrissa here."
MIKE: <intercom voice> Oh. Uh, whoops. <background> No luck, she's still
here.
> "The Stargazer has arrived," her father said. "They are waiting
> for you to beam aboard."
TOM: <Marrissa> Oh, they can wait... I'll thrill their little lives soon
enough.
> "Tell them I'll be right over, Marrissa out," she said, closing
> the channel, then suddenly nervous she turned to Clara.
CROW: <Marrissa> Um... I've never done this with a girl before, but...
> "Care to walk
> me to the Transporter Room, Clara?"
> "I'd love to."
MIKE: If only to make sure that you finally leave.
>
> When Marrissa entered the deck on which transporter room 3 was
> located, she found her entire Kid's crew lined up in their navy blue
> and yellow, red, or medium blue uniform.
TOM: This sounds like the introduction to a logic problem.
> "Attention on deck," Clara
> ordered. They snapped to attention.
CROW: Ready... aim... FIRE!!!
> As Marrissa walked thought the assembled children she commented,
MIKE: <Marrissa> Oh, you must be the little people I stepped on to get where
I am now. I don't think I ever noticed you before.
> "You managed to keep this a secret, very surprising Clara. I thought I'd
> hear of something like this."
TOM: <Marrissa> I will have my spies executed for this.
> As she reached the transporter room door
> and the end of the line Marrissa turned around. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I
> thank you for your service and friendship on this ship.
CROW: Well, your service, anyway.
> You will find a
> personal note from me along with a token of my thanks when you return to
> your quarters.
MIKE: Please do not be disturbed when the alien fungus starts growing on your
hands.
> It has been my pleasure serving with you." Marrissa
> entered the transporter room.
ALL: <raucous cheer>
TOM: <kid voice> She's leaving! Our long galactic nightmare is over!!
> Inside the room her Kid's crew command crew and the Adult
> Command crew stood.
CROW: The Adult crew is the one with the skimpy leather uniforms.
> Clara took her place behind the console. "Well '
> this is a surprise," Marrissa commented as the door closed.
MIKE: A dull surprise, apparently.
> "You didn't give us much time, but the Command Crew of the
> Enterprise-E would like to convey it's appreciation of your service
> aboard this ship," Admiral Jean-Luc Picard said.
TOM: ...and its even greater appreciation of your *future* service *not*
aboard this ship.
> "Since you have shown a
> certain fondness for commemorative plaques, we made one for you.
CROW: That's Marrissa -- she's fond of any sort of trophy honoring her
dominance.
> It reads,
MIKE: Dear Marrissa: Bite me. Sincerely, the crew of Enterprise-E.
> For her service on board both the Enterprise-D and E the
> command staff of the USS Enterprise awarded Lieutenant
> Commander Marrissa Amber Picard,
TOM: <Marrissa> Flores, you forgot the Flores! I am displeased, infidel!
> Princess of Essex,
> and heir to throne of that world,
CROW: Yes, folks, just in case you forgot, Marrissa is also heir to the
throne of Essex. We cannot stress this fact enough.
> this plaque on STARDATE
> 50534. It is but a small token of how much her service on
> board this ship have meant. Signed,
> Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, Commanding Officer;
MIKE: Why is he still in command if he's an Admiral? I thought only Captains
did that.
> Commander William Thomas Riker, First Officer;
CROW: Hey, waitaminute -- he wrote his phone number down here....
> Commander Beverly Picard, Chief Medical Officer;
> Commander Deanna Troi, Ship's Counselor;
> Lieutenant Commander Data, Second Officer and Chief of Operations;
TOM: <announcer> Thrill as Ratliff recites the entire cast list!
> Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge, Chief Engineer;
> Lieutenant Commander Worf son of Mog, Chief of Security."
MIKE: I'm a Mog -- half-man, half-dog. I'm my own best friend!
>
> Admiral Jean-Luc Picard handed Marrissa the mahogany plaque.
> "Remember to call once in a while," he said as she took it.
CROW: <Marrissa> Yeah, whatever. Hand over the loot.
> "I will," Marrissa said. Then Clara Sutter came forward. She
> was also holding a plaque but hers was gold on oak.
TOM: <Clara> You better like this -- we robbed three Starbases to pay for it.
> "Marrissa, the Kid's
> Crew was very sorry to here that you were leaving," Clara said.
MIKE: <Clara> We were hoping you'd die in action, and that we'd be there to
see it.
> "So we stayed up all night working on this.
CROW: <Clara> The popsicle sticks and glitter were my idea.
> Our plaque to you reads :
TOM: We've always hated you. Sincerely, the Kids Crew. P.S. Get stuffed.
> To Princess-Lieutenant Marrissa Picard From the Kid's
> Crew of the USS Enterprise. We will miss you.
MIKE: We're feeling kind today, and will only fire warning shots.
> We have
> known no others like you.
CROW: Oops, that should read, "We have known no others *who* like you."
> We believe no one can
> replace you.
TOM: At least we hope not.
> Your encouragement has meant a lot to us.
> Never once did you use harsh words with us.
MIKE: Beatings, public humiliation, sure. But never harsh words.
CROW: Of course, the leather strap was strangely pleasant...
> You were
> always their for us. If we had problems weather at
> school,
TOM: Problem weather at school?
MIKE: Oh, you know - tornadoes in the locker rooms, hurricanes in study hall,
flash floods when people flush all the toilets at once - that sort of
thing.
> in the Kid's crew, or at home, your door was
> open.
CROW: We'd walk in, explain our problems... then you'd laugh and shove us
out the door. We'll never forget that.
> You were our most valued friend
TOM: This must be some new use of the word "friend" that I'm not aware of.
>
> "It is signed by all 115 current Kid's crew members."
MIKE: <Clara> That's why it's four feet tall. Um, we thought you were taking
your steamer trunk...
> Clara
> handed the now tearful Princess the plaque, she said, "Marrissa,
> you left me with a very tough act to follow."
> "It's not that hard," Marrissa replied. "I thank you all for
> your kind words. If there is nothing further?"
CROW: <Marrissa> I'm getting bored with you mere mortals. Can I go now?
> As she couldn't detect
> anything she began to walk towards the transporter platform.
> "There is one more thing," Commander Data said.
TOM: <Data> We would like you to paint this huge neon bullseye on your
shuttlecraft.
> "Since this
> will be the first time you have had your own quarters, I thought it
> would be appropriate to give you this painting." Data pulled
ALL: <cover their eyes>
> a beautiful
> painting of five children coming out of a jungle.
ALL: *whew*!
> The middle one was
> obviously a younger Marrissa.
MIKE: You could tell by the golden halo surrounding her head.
> To her right stood a eight year-old Jay
> Gordon and to her left Alexander. To the far right stood Clara Sutter
> and the Far left Shayna Sachs.
TOM: It's like a really disturbing version of Da Vinci's "Last Supper."
> Marrissa appeared to be examining her
> tricorder.
CROW: But you couldn't tell for sure because it was a really crappy painting.
> Jay and Alexander held their phasers out
MIKE: ...at each other.
TOM: John Woo's "Time Speeder."
> and Clara and Shayna
> appeared to be walking as if it was a Sunday stroll. "I call it 'An
> Early Mission.'"
MIKE: I call it "Horror on Canvas."
TOM: I call it "A Baaad Flashback."
CROW: I call it "Five Convincing Arguments For Retroactive Abortion."
MIKE: <shocked> Crow!
CROW: What?
> "Thank you, Data," Marrissa said as she accepted the gift. "It
> really brings back that field trip.
CROW: It really brings back our lunches.
TOM: URP!
> Although I'd have to say that Shayna
> had a different expression."
MIKE: She was holding a phaser on Marrissa and screaming, "SHUT UP! JUST
SHUT UP!"
> Back with the rest of the Kid's Crew Command
> Crew, Shayna blushed.
CROW: <Shayna> Look, we were young and I'd never been camping with boys
before...
> "By the way Clara, since I'm leaving,
TOM: ...I just wanted to remind you that you'll never amount to anything.
> you might
> want to reissue my standing order to Shayna never to say 'How much
> further' again."
MIKE: Ha ha! Marrissa controls what you can say and think! And it's *funny*!
> "Consider it done," Clara responded, looking at Shayna.
CROW: <Shayna> Thanks, you done? You want me to collapse in shame, is that
it? Am I your punching bag?
> Marrissa finally mounted the transporter pad
TOM: <muttering> Since none of the other boys would touch her...
> and said. "Permission to disembark, Admiral?"
MIKE: <Picard> Yes. Go away.
> "Granted and Smooth Sailing, Commander," was Admiral Jean-Luc
> Picards reply to his adopted daughter.
CROW: Is it too late for him to give her back?
> "Remember I'll be inspecting the
> Stargazer at 1500 hours."
> "Yes, sir. Energize."
TOM: Star Trek: it keeps going and going and...
>
> Marrissa materialized in the transporter room of her new ship,
> the USS Stargazer NCC-2893.
MIKE: Formerly known as the USS Mary Celeste.
> The first thing she noticed was the increased
> complexity of the room.
CROW: Whoa... *two* colors of wallpaper!
> The next thing she noticed was a man she met a
> couple years back. "Permission to come aboard, Admiral Scott?"
TOM: The next thing she noticed was the increased complexity of Admiral Scott.
MIKE: <Marrissa> Yikes! I didn't know Starfleet *made* uniforms that big!
> "Granted, lassie," Scotty replied.
CROW: <Scotty> I'm Scottish, by the way!
> "Or should I be calling yea
> Princess?"
> "Just Marrissa will be fine," Marrissa responded.
TOM: Or 'High Lord and Master.'
> "I dislike titles, although I've accumulated a lot of them.
ALL: <laugh>
MIKE: Oh, come on! Marrissa dislikes titles the same way Courtney Love
dislikes getting high once in a while.
> What are you doing aboard?"
CROW: It's more fun than floating around in the vacuum outside.
> "I came aboard to see to the final tests, then I discovered that
> you'd be going to my next stop so I hitched a ride. I assume you consider
> yourself aboard?"
TOM: No, I think I'm more of a lampshade. Yeesh.
> "Of coarse," Marrissa replied.
MIKE: I consider myself a coarse board!
> "Computer Recognize Scott, Admiral Montgomery, and transfer
> command to Lieutenant Commander Marrissa Amber Picard, per Starfleet orders.
> "Transfer complete, USS Stargazer is now under the command of
> Lieutenant Commander Marrissa Picard."
CROW: <computer> God help us all.
> "I though as an Admiral, you would want to be in command,"
> Marrissa stated.
TOM: Standard Ratliffian regulations. Youngest and/or lowest-ranking
officer on board is automatically given command.
> "Marrissa, my lass, I never wanted command," Scotty said.
MIKE: Unless it was of something over 80 proof.
> "I just took the promotions so I could do my job better and with less
> interference from paper pushers."
CROW: Though the million-dollar raises are nice too.
> "Since our Chief Engineer has yet to be assigned, I assume you
> are filling that position?" Marrissa asked.
> "Aye."
TOM: Filling it out quite thoroughly, I'm sure.
MIKE: With enough left over for two or three *other* positions.
> "What's the dirtiest place on the ship?" Marrissa asked.
CROW: That'd be the Red Light district, deck 12.
> "It's just been refit so it's petty clean, but I'd have to say
> Jefferies Tube 45 near the recycling center," Scotty replied.
TOM: Recycling center?! What, does it turn old aluminum cans into antimatter?
> "Then we better clean it up," Marrissa said. "My father,
> Admiral Picard
MIKE: One more time, just in case you forgot -- Picard is Marrissa's father.
Got it?
CROW: I think so.
> is giving an inspection before we leave. So, I better get
> the start of his tour cleaned while you might want to clean up Engineering."
CROW: ...since there's just two us on this ship...
> "Where will he start?" Scotty asked.
> "The same place he started every inspection on the Enterprise in
> the last three years, my quarters," Marrissa replied leaving the room.
TOM: He's always lookin' for my stash, man!
>
> Marrissa entered the suite of rooms dedicated for the use of the
> Second Officer. They were located next to the Ship's bar which was named
> Seven Slightly Starboard for it's location.
ALL: <weak laughter>
MIKE: Does it hurt much being *you*, Steve-o?
> Marrissa paused for a moment
> as the irony of the fact that the only officer on board who wasn't of
> legal age's quarters would be next to the bar hit her.
CROW: So the Ages have quarters... and the bar hit Marrissa?
TOM: <Marrissa> Ow! I've been hit by a serious collapse of syntax!
> The first room
> she entered was an office. In contained a desk, a couple chairs and a
> sofa under the window. The desk was perpendicular to outside wall. She
> hung the painting Data had given her behind the desk.
MIKE: Okay, this is a logic puzzle, right? He's going to ask us "on what wall
did she hang the painting?" or "how long did it take to reach
Starbase 32?"
> Across the room was
> the door to the rest of her quarters, next to the replicator.
CROW: Uh-oh-- if she hits the wrong button, we have to deal with multiple
Marrissas!
> She walked though it
TOM: She walked through the replicator?
> to discover a well apportioned room with a table and three
> chairs, another sofa and a double bed.
MIKE: <Marrissa> They expect me to live in *this* closet? Where am I going to
put all my commemorative plaques and pictures of me? There's no mirror
over my bed, either! I'll have someone's career for this!
> The far wall sported another
> opening which lead to a bathroom with a real tub, perfect for Marrissa's
> bubble baths.
CROW: Don't go there, Ratliff... no matter *how* much you want to.
> As Marrissa exited the bathroom her door chimed.
TOM: Maybe it'll be Norman Bates?
MIKE: We should be so lucky.
> Walking back
> to her office, Marrissa said, "Come."
[A man's shadow appears on the left side of the theater. He is wearing a
robe -- leopard skin, most likely -- and is holding a pipe.]
CZAPLINSKI: Yeah baby, yeah baby, yeah YEAH!
[The man disappears.]
CROW: Well. *That* was strange.
> A young woman entered tentatively.
> She was carrying the rest of Marrissa's belongings.
> "The Quartermaster said you wanted this," she said, indicating
> the stuff she was carrying.
MIKE: Starfleet discovered to have enlisted personnel! Film at 11!
> "Just put it on my desk, Crewman ?" Marrissa
> said indicating that she wanted to know the older woman's name.
CROW: <shakes head> Gotta give it to Ratliff - he writes what he knows.
TOM: And what he knows is clumsiness.
> "Peterson, Yeoman Diane Peterson," the crewman replied. "The
> Quartermaster has assigned me to be your yeoman."
MIKE: Ouch. What'd she do to deserve that - sell Federation secrets to
the Cardassians?
> "Well then, Yeoman, get ready for a lot of work," Marrissa
> responded. "I probably hold the most jobs of anyone on the ship."
CROW: That is, if you include running your mouth, self-worship, and otherwise
being an annoying twink as jobs.
> "How so?" Yeoman Peterson asked, curious. "I know you are
> Second Officer, but what else?"
ALL: *sigh*
TOM: Here we go again, folks -- another recitation of Marrissa's titles.
> "I'm also Fighter Commander," Marrissa responded.
MIKE: Well, wing commander, really, but there's some sort of copyright
trouble.
> "Plus I'm
> also the coordinating officer for all the Kid's Crews in the fleet.
CROW: <Peterson> *You're* the one to blame for that?
> If
> that weren't enough, I've got the responsibilities outside Starfleet of
> being the heir to the constitutional monarchy of Essex.
TOM: <Marrissa> And I was the made the Warrior-Goddess of Kricfalusi 18 when
the Vulture People attacked the peaceful Eagle kingdom and I fought them
all off all by myself, yes I did, and, and, and I got a magic sword and
big crown and everything!
MIKE: Careful, Tom - you're probably giving Ratliff ideas for the next
Marrissa story.
TOM: D'oh!
> I've got to get
> Victoria to get married." The last was said under her breath.
> "It sounds like I'll be busy, Commander," Yeoman Peterson
> responded.
CROW: <Peterson> Well, I *suppose* I could marry Victoria...
> "Call me Marrissa, I have a dislike for titles," Marrissa said.
TOM: <laughs> You keep saying that and it's JUST NOT TRUE!
> Then seeing Peterson's puzzled glance she continued. "I simply have too
> many of them."
MIKE: Kinda like Ratliff fanfics - even one is too many.
>
> Chapter Two
CROW: Second verse, same as the first!
>
> Marrissa had what little she had of staff assembled in
> transporter room 4 to greet her father's inspection party. "The
> Admiral and his party are signaling that they are ready to beam
> aboard," Scotty said.
TOM: I don't think that's what the middle-finger signal means, Scotty.
> "Beam the over, Scotty," Marrissa replied.
MIKE: Beam the *what* over?
> Admiral
> Jean-Luc Picard, Doctor Beverly Picard, their youngest
> daughter Jackie (in a white dress something that she rarely wore for
> obvious reasons),
CROW: Which are...?
MIKE: Too obvious to share with the reader, I guess.
> and of all people Guinan
> materialized on the transporter platform.
> "Permission to come aboard, Commander?" Admiral Picard
> asked.
> "Permission granted," Marrissa replied. "May I
> introduce my staff?"
CROW: <Picard> No. Smeg off.
> "Certainly," Picard replied.
TOM: <Curly> Nyuck-nyuck.
> "Admiral Montgomery Scott, acting as chief engineer
> until the regular one arrives," Marrissa began.
MIKE: In the meantime, we'll make do with the constipated one.
> "Lieutenant
> Sam Lavelle, acting as chief operations officer;
CROW: ...and Jerry Mathers as the Beaver.
> Lieutenant
> Ross Lockard, Chief Tactical Officer;
TOM: Wasn't he Ross LOCHARD is the last story?
CROW: You paid that close attention?
> and Doctor Jackson
> Johnson, chief medical officer."
MIKE: Jackson Johnson is right!
> "Commander, shall we begin the inspection?" Admiral
> Picard asked.
CROW: If this involves rubber gloves, I'm leaving.
> "Certainly, I assume you want to start in the same
> place as on the Enterprise?" Marrissa responded.
> "Yes."
TOM: An inspired choice, sir. <sotto voce> Schmuck.
> "If you don't mind I'll be in Seven Slightly
> Starboard," Guinan said.
MIKE: I'd like to inspect the stock carefully, if you get my meaning.
> "I have to check up on my daughter
> while you check up on yours."
CROW: Huh? Guinan's *daughter*?!
TOM: Steve's handing out children at random now!
>
> "Does my room meet with your approval, Admiral?"
> Lieutenant Commander Marrissa Picard asked her father.
MIKE: <Marrissa> If it doesn't, I can have the Yeoman killed.
> "It does, Marrissa," Jean-Luc Picard replied. "One
> more thing though,
CROW: <Picard> I noticed the box of condoms, and I think it's time we had a
little talk...
> one painting is simply not enough for ones
> quarters.
TOM: No one can eat just one.
> But I think I can remedy that. Admiral Picard to Enterprise,
> time for my package."
ALL: OH NO!!! <dive for cover>
> Another painting materialized.
ALL: Oh.
MIKE: Whew!
> This one was of Marrissa on the
> bridge of the Enterprise-D,
CROW: Must have been a self-portrait, signed "An Egotist."
TOM: <French accent> Egotiste!
MIKE: <French accent> Egotiste!
CROW: <French accent> Egotiste!
> standing between Ops and CONN.
TOM: I thought that was where Rhode Island was.
> On the viewscreen was a Cardassian Galor Class Starship with
> the sentence 'I was beaten by a bunch of Kids' written
> across the port blade.
MIKE: Boy, all the memories this story is dredging up!
CROW: This is the Ratliff equivalent of a clip show.
> "Mister Data isn't the only one
> aboard the Enterprise who can paint.
TOM: Unfortunately, I'm not the other one.
> I call it 'First Command'."
MIKE: I call it spinach, and I say to hell with it!
> "Thank you Dad," Marrissa said. "It will be perfect
> on that blank wall opposite my bed."
CROW: The blank spot over the garbage disposal.
> "Your welcome," Jean-Luc Picard replied. "Now lets go
> see how dirty Jackie got playing in Jefferies tube 45 near
> the recycling center."
TOM: Yeah, let's see if she's been split into her component molecules yet.
MIKE: If she's covered in antimatter again, I'm *not* touching her.
> "So that's why Jackie had the white dress on," Marrissa
> replied.
> "I've never been above using my daughters to test
> crews," Jean-Luc said.
ALL: Boooooo!
CROW: Stephen Ratliff, have you, at long last, no shame?
> "I remember the Maine," Marrissa said.
TOM: Do you remember the Alamo, too?
> "I also
> remember running scores of scores of drills for you in the
> last two years. I just didn't think you could use my little
> sister yet."
ALL: <retch>
> "That's why I'm the Admiral and you are a Lieutenant
> Commander," Jean-Luc replied.
MIKE: This exchange is just so wrong on so many levels....
> "I'm paid to find things for
> my crew to do,
CROW: God knows Ratliff could use some help.
> you are paid to follow orders."
TOM: <German accent> Sieg heil! Sieg heil!
> "Give me another three to five years and I'll be in the
> Captain's chair," Marrissa responded.
MIKE: I'd rather just give you three to five years.
CROW: And she'll be in the *electric* chair, more likely.
> Jean-Luc Picard was momentarily shocked. "You really
> want to shatter that youngest Captain's record don't you."
TOM: Why not? She's already shattered the youngest captain's kneecaps!
> "I intend to have held all of the youngest records,"
> Marrissa replied.
MIKE: And Marrissa "dislikes titles," eh?
> "Clara may have taken the youngest Ensign
> from me but
CROW: <Marrissa> ...I'm going to steal him back!
> I doubt anyone will take the rest away. I mean
> can you see a Lieutenant at less than 13 years?
TOM: <singing> Looking at you, I see the boredom, listening to you,
I hear the ego....
> Plus some
> officers already think they could had my position as
> Lieutenant Commander because I just turned 15."
MIKE: Oh, how I long for the Tracy-and-Hepburn-like dialogue of "Family
Circus."
> "You have a point, I don't think anyone will beat your
> records," her father said.
CROW: Your hide, maybe. But not your records.
> "But I still don't think you
> will beat the Captain's record of 26."
TOM: Not if you know what's good for you. The last Lieutenant Commander to do
so had an unfortunate... accident. And I *do* worry about your health.
> "Dad, I have 11 years to make Captain, you jumped from
> Lieutenant to Captain in one jump," Marrissa said.
MIKE: Jean-Luc was nimble, Jean-Luc was quick, Jean-Luc jumped over the
command structure in one leap.
> "Are you saying
> that even though I've bested your promotion rate by a factor
> of three, I won't beat that 4 years?"
CROW: <Marrissa> Face it, Daddy -- I'm better, stronger, and faster than you
ever were!
> "You have a point."
TOM: ...atop your head.
>
> Meanwhile in Seven Slightly Starboard, Guinan was
> talking to her daughter who appeared to be about 20 years
> old,
MIKE: ...but was actually 13, in keeping with Ratliff regulations.
> "Being in charge of a Starship's bar isn't like your
> previous endeavors, Mary."
CROW: That Queen of Scotland thing, for one.
> "It isn't? that's good," Mary replied. "I kind of
> prefer not having to clean up after hotel guests.
MIKE: Now you get to clean up after drunken barflies.
> I really
> wished you hadn't leave me in charge of that bed and
> breakfast back when the Enterprise-D was commissioned."
TOM: Guinan's Bed and Breakfast? <giggle>
> "You still will have to clean up after the occasional
> bar fight," Guinan replied.
CROW: Plus, when Scotty overdoes it, you'll have a real mess to deal with.
> "I suggest you get permission
> from the Chief of Security to keep a weapon behind the bar.
MIKE: What, does Ratliff think this is a Klingon ship?
> And as for the bed and breakfast ... what are you
> complaining about, you ran a 20 percent profit and were
> booked solid for the last 10 years."
TOM: Yes, profit is much more important than enjoying life.
> "After watching you do it for 80 years, heck since I
> was born," Mary replied. "I should know how. By the way do
> you really think that new owner can do a good job?"
> "No, he doesn't have your charm, and since someone
> messed up the waterfalls, the place was going to go down
> hill anyway," Guinan said.
CROW: Now that the water falls *up*, nobody wants to stay there anymore.
> "But we did sell it at a 300 percent profit."
MIKE: What, is Guinan a Ferengi all of a sudden? Since when did she become
so interested in money?
> "By the way, mother, you promised you'd tell me who my
> father is when I turned 90," Mary said. "Your time is up as
> of two hours ago."
TOM: <Guinan> Oh all right. You're adopted. You're one of Shatner's.
MIKE: Ouch!
> "I knew I was forgetting something," Guinan said.
CROW: Today's your birthday? Damn, I knew I was forgetting something.
Fine, here's five dollars. Now go get mommy her "medicine."
> "Happy Birthday ... but I still can't tell."
> "Mother," Mary whined.
TOM: Ah, deeply dysfunctional families *are* fun.
MIKE: Am I the only one longing for an attack by the Borg right about now?
>
> Lyam Sympton was ready to move.
TOM: His old neighborhood had really gone downhill.
> A group of his
> colleagues had joined him in his private yacht, the
> Starfleet's Bane.
TOM: 'Cause, see, he hates Starfleet and stuff...
MIKE: A nice, innocuous name like that wouldn't attract any attention from
Starfleet, now would it?
> They were just entering the Zed-15 Depot Yard.
CROW: Zed's dead, baby.
> Their objective was the decommissioned USS Eagle NCC-956.
TOM: In space no one can hear you ride through the desert on a horse with
no name.
> "Have they detected us?" Lyam asked his comrade and
> Engineering Specialist, Boris Gutanhoff.
MIKE: And his lovely sidekick Natasha.
> "I don't think so," Boris replied.
TOM: <Russian accent> Now we keel moose and squirrel!
> "Ready Boarding parties, Frank," Lyam ordered.
CROW: <Dr. Forrester> Push the button, Frank!
MIKE: Crow, that was *eerie*!
> "Boris, I want that ship operational ASAP."
> "I'll do my best," Boris responded. "Hopefully they
> won't have stripped it too much."
TOM: Like I said, the old neighborhood's really gone downhill...
>
> Moment's latter a half a dozen hired guns beamed on
> board the Eagle.
MIKE: ...and clattered to the floor.
CROW: D'oh! Troops! That's what we forgot!
TOM: <goofy voice> Better get Kooky the Klown off the transporter controls!
> They fanned out and checked out the empty ship.
MIKE: <sleazy voice> Sssaaaaayyyyyy... nice *nacelles* there, Eagle. Come to
this depot often?
> Signaling all clear, the leader requested that the
> Engineer be beamed aboard. Boris got right to work on the
> shuttlebay doors.
CROW: <Bob Villa> Now, we're going to plane these down, and then put a couple
of nice stained glass windows on the front...
> Despite the fact that the Eagle had been
> out of service for more than 80 years, the bay doors still
> opened allowing the Starfleet's Bane to squeeze into the
> bay.
ALL: <grunting, squeezing sounds>
TOM: Okay... put 'er down in the hijackers-only space.
> Lyam Sympton exited the yacht. "Welcome aboard,
> Captain," Boris said.
> "How is our transportation Boris?" Lyam asked.
> "No weapons but she'll go fast enough to break the
> speed limit
MIKE: Speed limit?
CROW: Yeah, there was that episode where they find out that if they go over a
certain warpspeed they tear holes in the fabric of space. Or something.
MIKE: Then how come every succeeding episode of Trek has ignored that?
CROW: Because it was a really dumb idea?
MIKE: Oh. Yeah.
> and get us where or shall I say when we're
> going," Boris replied.
> "Then lets get under way before the supply yard notices
> us," Lyam ordered.
ALL: <laugh>
TOM: <guard> Hey, Ted, anything happening out there?
CROW: <guard> Well, a ship called Starfleet's Bane cruised by a few minutes
ago and reactivated one of our biggest warhorses. Nah, nothing
suspicious.
> "I'll be on the Bridge."
>
TOM: Hey guys, let's get underway before the fanfic notices us.
MIKE: Good idea.
[Mike and the bots exit the theater.]
-- CONTINUED IN PART 2 --