Generations 2 MSTing, Part 1 (LONG! REALLY LONG!)
Merritt Stone
This comes to you from Dave Hines, so don't blame me. Feedback goes
to dhi...@kruncher.ptloma.edu.
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Hello all!
This is my second MiSTing completed, but third attempted. (One is in
progress.) There was no more Ratliff to dibs, so I had to settle for
Ratliff's continuity. Don't worry, Ms. Pasch does seem to be quite a
fan.
I've seen MST3K:The Movie now, and love it. I've borrowed some ideas
(Gypsy
functioning as caretaker for Mike and the 'bots) and some lines
(mainly for
Tom), but tried not to go overboard on this. This MiSTing takes place
at
roughly the same time as the movie, probably a bit after, and also
fits in
after the MiSTings of "Zora, Maiden of the Sea", "Star Trek: Episode
666"
and "A Royal Wedding" for continuity reasons.
And, as always, I am still not the guy who did "Enterprized" and "A
Gul's
Revenge". We just happen to have the same name.
Dave Hines
dhi...@kruncher.ptloma.edu
Visit MiSTing Heaven at: http://199.106.87.9/~boffo/msting.html
P.S. If you wish to comment, please do so by email. I don't have
newsgroup
access at school, and can't read this group often.
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In the not too distant future...
[1...2...3...4...5...6... SOL Control Room]
[Mike, Tom and Crow are dressed up in 70s clothes, complete with
chains,
toupees for the 'bots, and half open shirts. (In Mike's case, this is
causing
a sharp rise in the demographics under the category of "Female 18-
35"). A
disco ball spins overhead as the 'bots get down. Mike seems a little
reticent.]
MIKE: Gypsy, I don't think this is working out.
[Gypsy comes zipping into the scene with a dress and a wig, largely
trying to
imitate Marsha Brady.]
GYPSY: Now, Mike, you know that in order to pass the time up here in a
mentally healthy way, we need variety. That's why I've scheduled
these
theme days.
MIKE: I know, Gypsy, but disco? I didn't like disco when I was on
Earth!
GYPSY: Well, the boys seem to like it...
MUSIC: Whether you're a mother or whether you're a brother, you're
staying
alive... staying alive...
[Crow is moving his arm in the classic "Travolta Motion" from Saturday
Night
Fever. Tom is rotating his body around to use centrifugal force to
accomplish
the same effect.]
CROW: Yeah, Mike! Get down! Whoooo!
MIKE: Crow, you look ridiculous. [looking over] That look may work for
Servo though.
TOM: I'm hip!
[Dr. Forrester's signal rings out.]
MIKE: Uh oh. Cut the music, Gypsy!
[Forrester fades in on the viewscreen.]
FORRESTER: Ah! Mike, boys! How are you doing! Are you all getting
enough to
eat up there, hmmmm???
MIKE: [nonplussed] Um... I guess we're fine, sir.
FORRESTER: Good good good! We don't talk often enough. A good
scientist -
test subject relationship is essential for this type of work.
CROW: Umm... Mike... I don't like this...
FORRESTER: Oh come now, you wound me! Here I am, calling you and
having a
nice friendly chat. I'm not shooting lasers at you, or forcing you
to bow
down to me. I just called to do you a little favor.
TOM: Mike... I REALLY don't like this!
FORRESTER: I trust you all remember that delightful little piece of
fan
fiction from our old friend, Stephen Ratliff, called "A Royal
Wedding"?
MIKE: [visibly sweating] Uh... yes.
FORRESTER: Well, as you may recall, that piece was a sequel to a work
by
one Anne-Lise Pasch called "Generations 2" that was set in the
Marrissa
continuity.
[The 'bots begin to whimper.]
FORRESTER: [continuing] Well, I've found it for you! So you can know
where
Ratliff is coming from, and perhaps begin to empathize with him a
bit.
MIKE: That's OK, we'll... um... pass!
FORRESTER: I'm afraid passing is not an option, Mickey Dolenz!
[Fanfic sign begins to flash]
MIKE: I thought you were doing something nice for us!
FORRESTER: I lied. With me, don't just suspect evil, *expect* it! Now,
get in
the theatre!
[Forrester fades out]
MIKE: We've got fanfic sign!!!!
[General panic. 6...5...4...3...2...1...Theatre]
MIKE: All of a sudden, disco doesn't seem so bad...
>Path:
tivoli.tivoli.com!geraldo.cc.utexas.edu!cs.utexas.edu!swrinde!pipex!wa
rwick!cookie!xuuaw
CROW: Order the tivoli tivoli! It's great tonight!
TOM: Groupies of bad fanfic writers... on the next Geraldo!
>From: Anne-Lise Pasch <xu...@csv.warwick.ac.uk>
MIKE: Ah, the Psychic Hotline is her ISP...
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
CROW: The alternative to creative Star Trek...
>Subject: Generations 2: The whole story :]
>Date: Fri, 17 Feb 1995 10:22:52 +0000
CROW: Looks like Dr. Forrester waited a year to prepare this...
TOM: This is gonna be bad... hold me, Mike!
MIKE: Only if you hold me!
TOM: That's going to be difficult...
>Organization: University of Warwick, Coventry, UK
>Lines: 381
>Message-ID: <Pine.SV4.3.91.950217101608.6180A-100000@cookie>
CROW: Hey, I want a cookie! I never did get a Zagnut bar when we read
"Zora,
Maiden of the Sea"!
TOM: [sobs in bitter remembrance]
MIKE: Crow! I told you to never mention that poem again! We need to
stay
together for this one! We can do three hundred and eighty one lines!
>NNTP-Posting-Host: cookie.csv.warwick.ac.uk
>Mime-Version: 1.0
>Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII
>X-Sender: xuuaw@cookie
>Xref: tivoli.tivoli.com alt.startrek.creative:6170
>
>
>--
>
>This story is set after Generations, and before the 'future' in "All
Good
>Things".
MIKE: Well, everything is before something that's not going to happen
anymore.
CROW: Once a fanboy...
> It is also a follow up to the excellent Kid's Krew stories by
>Steven Ratliffe.
MIKE: Ye merry olde Ratliffe.
TOM: Ye horrible olde Ratliffe!
CROW: Does that make Marrissa's group the Kid's Krew Klan?
MIKE: Crow, just because Ratliff seems to have southern roots doesn't
mean
he's stupid enough to walk around wearing linens.
>
>All mistakes within this story are mine, all mine. :]
TOM: And all chances to respond to this story are ours, all ours.
CROW: [laughing evilly, as Forrester]
Nyahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MIKE: Crow, stop doing that impression. It scares us!
CROW: I can't help the way my voice sounds!
>
>--
>
>Generations 2: Generations Ahead.
TOM: Immense pain ahead, too.
>
>
>
> Sleekly, majestically,
MIKE: [as Snagglepuss] Beautifully, even!
> the U.S.S. Endeavour edged out of Spacedock above
>the San Francisco Yards,
CROW: Nice to have it confirmed that, even in the future, space will
be
ABOVE San Francisco.
> and moved forward under impulse power. The rays of
>the sun reflected upon the saucer section of the Nebula-class
starship,
TOM: It's not a Neubla-class?
MIKE: Just remember, it's not really Ratliff.
CROW: If it looks like a duck and allows Marrissa to survive
impossible
odds...
>proudly displaying the registry NCC-71805-A. In contrast to its
elegance,
>the bridge crew of the vessel were having a difficult time holding
back
>their emotions.
CROW: They were having a monster kegger.
> For them, the adventure was just beginning, but this crew
>were not adverse to danger or adventure.
MIKE: Just spelling, ...
TOM: grammar, ...
CROW: and believable plotlines.
> Although they never actively sought
>the precarious situations they had often found themselves in, they
soon
>found themselves engaged in one perilous situation or another.
> Bloodleblip.
CROW: Hey! Not on the bridge!
> "Come!" called out the Captain, Marrissa Picard.
CROW: But unfortunately, it wasn't that type of story.
MIKE: Crow...
> Marrissa
>was reknowned throughout the upper echelons of Starfleet for her
>intelligence,
[ALL]: [laugh]
> her experience,
[ALL]: [continue to laugh]
TOM: Tee hee! Not everybody would know how to smack diplomats around!
> and her age,
MIKE: Since all three were low...
> as she had attained the rank of
>Captain before the age of twenty. Indeed, as daughter of the now-
legendary
CROW: And syndicated...
>Jean-Luc Picard, she had been acting Captain of the Enterprise on a
number
>of occassions. The door swished apart, admitting the lean form of Jay
>Gordan, her first officer.
TOM: [begins humming stripper music]
MIKE: AH! BAD mental image there!
TOM: Oops... sorry, Mike...
CROW: [snickers]
> "Ah, number one. Just in time to join me for some tea."
CROW: [as Jay] It's MY unbirthday too!
>Jay smiled, a machiavellian grin breaking into his pixie-like
features.
TOM: That's what we would have seen if Jack Nicholson was in "Hook".
> "What, no strawberry juice?" he asked. Marrissa allowed herself to share
>the laughter,
MIKE: After filing the appropriate requests with Starfleet Command...
> glad of the chance to relax. Over the years, her relationship
>with Jay had matured into a very cordial
TOM: If I were Jay or Marrissa, I'd need alcohol to be the other's
friend,
too!
CROW: If I were Jay or Marrissa, I'd need an appointment with Doctor
Kevorkian!
> and close friendship. Marrissa
>sighed, her face reflecting the seriousness she felt.
> "What's to report, number one?" she asked, while walking over towards the
>replicator.
CROW: [as computer] That drink is not on file. Accessing medical
records
on humanoid lifeforms.
> "Alexander has returned from his meeting with Kurn. You were right,
>Marrissa.
ALL: [as Jay, droning]: You are always right, Marrissa...
> He was able to use his family's link to the High Council to get us
>the two Klingon ships we needed. Unfortunately, we only have access
to two
>B'rel class Birds of Prey, not the larger K'Vort class."
CROW: [as High Councilmember]: Sure we'll give you a couple of
warships!
We may be at war, but this is Marrissa Amber Flores Picard we're
talking
about!
MIKE: Remember, Crow, Ratliff continuity... no war.
> "At least we have two cloakable ships." She replied, nodding. "Let's just
>hope we don't have to engage in combat. What condition are the Birds
of Prey
>in?"
TOM: [as Jay] They just made the models yesterday, Captain.
> "According to Commander Sutter, the ships are in perfect working order and
>ready for the mission."
> "That's Clara for you." laughed Marrissa. "Never anything less than perfect.
>Prepare the away team for transport, Jay, and get underway as soon as
possible."
MIKE: [as Jay] Shouldn't we wait for Alexander and those ships first,
Captain?
> "Aye Captain." Jay turned and left, a trace of a smile still playing upon
>his lips.
CROW: That would tend to imply that there was some humor in that whole
scene, but I just didn't see it.
>
> The band of energy rippled onward, following a clearly defined path.
TOM: Follow the yellow brick road!
>Stellar Cartographers, aware of its deadly potential had plotted its
course
>for years, diverting ships and, when necessary, evacuating colonies.
CROW: Isn't that a proctologist's job?
MIKE: Colon-IES, Crow!
CROW: Oh yeah, I knew that...
>Oblivious to the fear it left behind in its passing, the Nexus,
forged on.
>Although the great ribbon possessed life, in a fashion, it was devoid
of
>intelligence.
MIKE: Thus explaining its presence in a Ratliff-continuity story.
>
> Guinan stared out of the window. Although she was in a place of great
>joy, her eyes reflected the anguish she was experiencing.
TOM: [as Guinan] In... bad... fanfic! Must... persevere!
> Frustrated at her
>powerlessness to alter events, she had no option but to watch them
occur.
MIKE: Now you know how we feel!
>For her, time had no meaning. All time was one time, and the weighty
>depression of that fact was enough to suffuse her contentment with
the
>clouds of despair. A tear escaped the confines of one eye, and she
looked
>away towards the ground, crushed by her need to help and her
inability to
>render assistance.
CROW: Mike, just what does that paragraph mean?
MIKE: Um... she was sad about something... and she was crying. Beyond
that,
I have no idea.
>
> Marissa stared at the image of the Nexus on the viewscreen. The energy
>ribbon rippled before her, a bizarre snake of colour streaking across
the
>starry background. She hoped the experts were right, that the
>newly-devoloped [And banned, she remembered with a smile]
TOM: [as Marrissa] Rules are for mortals!
> phasic cloaking
>device would enable a suitably adapted Klingon Bird of Prey to move
safely
>through the Nexus, analysing as it passes through. A second bird of
Prey was
>on hand to actually make contact with the Nexus, allowing, they
hoped, some
>form of communication with its inhabitants. Although Marrissa was no
expert
>in this field, even she recognised a desperate bid when she saw it,
CROW: [as Marrissa] There's no way he can win a four no-trump!
MIKE: We've done that joke before, Crow...
> and she
>hoped that there wouldn't be too many casualties for her to be
responsible
>for.
TOM: She's nearing her "million-per-lifetime limit".
>
> Will sighed, leaning heavily into his command chair. This was where he
>wanted to be, he realised. Captain William T. Riker. He had to admit
it to
>himself, it sounded good. How long he'd waited for the opportunity to
take
>this chair, and that moment on Varidian 3 when he'd looked up through
the
>shattered remains of the Enterprise's bridge, he'd thought this
moment
>would never have come. Still, he thought, a smile creasing his aged
face,
>here he was.
MIKE: He's become Al Bundy!
> "Sir!" An Ensign's voice broke into his reverie, and he immediately turned
>his attention to the matter at hand.
> "Yes Ensign, what is it?"
CROW: [as Ensign] It's the lowest ranked officer grade, but that's not
important now, sir!
TOM: It's the dramatic return of Ensign Throwaway!
> "We're approaching the coordinates set for the meeting point, Captain. The
>Grissom, the Endeavour and two Klingon ships are already there."
MIKE: [as Ensign] Message coming in from Marrissa, sir! It says "You
are
late, infidel!"
> "Good!" Riker enthused. "Hail the Endeavour, I want to speak to Captain
>Picard."
TOM: WHY?!
>
> Marrissa was sitting in her ready room when the call from the Enterprise
>came through. She composed herself, unconsciously adjusting her
uniform
>in the same manner that her adoptive father had too.
MIKE: Oh, she probably has male pattern baldness too!
> "Captain Picard, good to see you!" Riker's baritone rang out.
> "Hello again, Captain." acknowledged Marrissa.
> "What's the situation Captain?"
CROW: What's the frequency, Kenneth?
> "Starfleet have asked that an experienced group of officers should
>attempt to gain access to the Nexus.
TOM: [as Marrissa] Do you know any?
> Apparently, that's us!" Marrissa
>broke into a wide smile. "We each have to make selections from our
crew.
>I'm handing control of the Endeavour over to Alexander, my Chief
>of Security.
MIKE: [as Marrissa] I just don't have anyone younger or less
experienced
than him on board!
> I've selected Jay Gordan and Clarrissa to accompany me."
> "Who's been selected from the Grissom?" asked Riker.
> "Captain Charlesworth of the Grissom is coming along, as is his first
>officer, Lieutenant-Commander Townley. Also Commander Data."
> "Data? Last i heard he'd retired from Star Fleet!" Interrupted Will.
> "He was approached by Admiral Bernlin and asked to return on a special
>commission. Do you know which officers to choose from your own crew?"
CROW: Ever since he got that emotion chip installed, he's been working
for
the highest bidder...
> "Yes. Myself, Deanna and Commander Vesch."
> "Vesch? I'm not familiar with that name. Should I be?"
TOM: Well, I'm not familiar with Charlesworth or Townley either!
> "She's the granddaughter of Tasha Yar, half Romulan, and a damned good
>officer."
CROW: [as Marrissa] Has she considered prayer? To me, I mean...
TOM: Shouldn't Tasha's granddaughter be either a quarter or three
quarters
Romulan?
MIKE: Sela signed up for one of those dating services for half
Romulans.
> "She can be trusted?" Marrissa had always harboured distrust for the
>Romulans, despite the peace treaty.
CROW: I call no way! If there's a peace treaty between the Federation
and
the Romulans, and this is a prequel to "A Royal Wedding", why does
she
kill helpless Romulans in that one?
MIKE: You actually expected any kind of continuity as far as "A Royal
Wedding" was concerned?
> "Doubtlessly. She has proved herself many times over."
> "Alright then, prepare to beam over to the Vor'cha with your chosen crew
>members in thirty minutes, standard mission equipment.
TOM: [as Marrissa] You know, the usual stuff...
> We don't have long
>before the Nexus arrives."
> "I'll see you there. Riker out."
MIKE: [as Riker] Why am I taking orders from her?
>
> Alexander was in the Holodeck of the Endeavour, practicing his fighting
>skills with a Kut'luch,
CROW: And I'm practicing my riffing skills with a Tossed'lunch.
> the bladed weapon favoured by Klingon Assassins. The
>holodeck had been programmed to ignore safety factors,
TOM: ...and all the holo-characters were running around with scissors.
> and he was immersed
>within the deadly game. Suddenly the hidden communicators within the
>holodeck chimed out
MIKE: [as Number 6] Wait a minute, why would a Polish agent have a
watch
set to British time?!
> and repeated, "Lieutenant Commander Alexander, report to
>the transporter room." Just for a second, Alexander lost his
concentration,
>and was nearly impaled by a spear, thrust by a humanoid creature with
a
>face resembling a wild boar.
CROW: What's Marrissa doing in there?
> With instincts honed to near-perfection,
>Alexander whirled and buried the serrated blade into the torso of his
>attacker, mortally wounding it.
CROW: [as Alexander] Take that, Marrissa!
> "Computer, end program!" he called out jubilantly, and strode out. Behind
>him, the alien world evaporated into a blank grid.
>
> Will Riker stepped off the transporter, and waited for his eyes to adjust
>to the dimmed light of the Kul'pla's transporter room. A young,
black-
>haired woman came up to meet him.
TOM: At least, he THOUGHT it was a young, black-haired woman. Those
lights
are pretty dim.
> "Greetings Captain Riker, I'm Clara Sutter, Chief of Engineering."
> "Ah, young Clara, I remember you from aboard the Enterprise." Riker winked,
>playfully. "How long ago that was!"
MIKE: Oh, Riker hits on everything female and vaguely hominid!
> Clara laughed dutifully. "Marrissa is on level 2. She's converted the
>galley into a ready room and will meet you there. I've been assigned
to
>escort you."
CROW: [as Clara] The ship's regular ready room wasn't big enough for
her
royal pa... um... highness.
> "Then lead on, young lady." Riker's irrepressable grin broke out as he
>followed Clara from the transporter room.
TOM: If I were Clara, I'd make him walk first.
CROW: If I were Clara, I'd need an appointment with...
MIKE: We've got it, Crow! (sigh)
>
> "The situation is this," Marrissa concluded her briefing. "Lieutenant-
>Commander Townley, yourself, Commander Vesch and a skeleton crew will
fly
>the Vor'kis through the Nexus as a guinea-pig run for the Kul'pla.
MIKE: You mere mortals don't mind sacrificing yourselves for me, do
you?
Of course not!
> You
>will set your shield modulation to 12.36, the same as the Nexus.
CROW: The Nexus has shields?
--
Merritt Stone, MSTie #54420
ratmm's Resident Utility Infielder
"You're the nicest guy in Hollywood. You're...Cary Grant and Jimmy
Stewart rolled into a great big ball. Not that... that's ever
happened..."
---Brain, "Brain's Song" (Pinky and the Brain)