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MiSTed: DS9 Shadow Arc, Obrien - pt. 1

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Eric Simon

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Feb 5, 1995, 7:08:19 PM2/5/95
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Here we go, part one of my newest series of mistings that I'm doing from
alt.startrek.creative. It's got bad grammar and no plot. Enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

[sol - Mike and Crow are on the Cambot side of the table, backs
to the camera.]

MIKE: Oh, I'm so excited!
CROW: They say it's almost like seeing God.
MIKE: I bet he's gonna say something really inspirational.
CROW: Shhh! Here he comes!

[Tom enters dressed as the Pope]

TOM: Ahem. Veni, vidi, vici!
MIKE: [looks at Crow] Huh?
TOM: Tota Gallia est divisa in tres partes!
CROW: Servo! That's not what the Pope would say!
TOM: Geez, sorry! Can I help it if my latin program only has 40
words?

[lights flash]

MIKE: Oh, never mind, guys. The Bishops are calling.
[hits button]

[deep 13]

DR F: Benedictus, heathen. Thinking about religion, are we?
Well, then you're ready for the new wave of religious thinking,
the Church of Forrester. Frank, give them the pitch.

[Frank enters carrying a tray of pamphlets]

FRANK: Hello, my name is Frank, and I'd like to talk to you about
your eternal soul. Have you thought about dedicating your entire
life before and after death to one man? Well, now Dr. Clayton
Forrester has come up with a way to do just that. No need to
sign anything in blood right now, I'd just like to leave these
brochures listing the many benefits of giving your soul to Dr.
Forrester. Thank you, and have a beautiful day from the Church
of Forrester.
[Frank puts the tray in the umbilicus]

DR F: Thank you, Frank. Well, while you're thinking it over,
enjoy this thumbscrew of a post to alt.startrek.creative. Push
the button, Frank.

FRANK: At once, Your Eminence.

[sol - Mike and the bots are reading the brochure]

MIKE: Number 23 - a new car whenever you want it.
CROW: Number 47 - fame, fortune, and multiple spouses.

[lights flash]

TOM: Post siiiiggn!

6...5...4...3...2...o

>Article 18343 of alt.startrek.creative:
>Path:news.acns.nwu.edu!math.ohio-state.edu!uwm.edu!msunews
>!harbinger.cc.monas
>From: William...@closer.brisnet.org.au (William Gracie)

CROW: The posts are coming from inside the house!
TOM: Closer.

>Date: 21 Jan 95 22:34:50
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: DS9-Shadow arc, Obriens-(1)

MIKE: Oh good. The O'Brien counter is turned on.

>Message-ID: <7f9_950...@softtech.brisnet.org.au
>Organization: Soft-Tech +61-7-869-1131
>Lines: 124

TOM: Soft-Tech. Strong enough for a .plan, but made for a woman.

> Dark Side Of The Force (pt1)
> **********************

CROW: Huh?
TOM: You have *got* to be kidding!
MIKE: Isn't that taking crossover fanfics just a little bit far?

> by
> Raymond N. Cooper
>

TOM: You know I don't think adding an N. does anything to dignify the name
Raymond Cooper.

>
>
> "Bloody Starfleet engineers..."

MIKE: ...all layed out in a row. Boy do I love my Doom editor.

> The mutter came from within a service hatch inside the
>starship USS Defiant's port warp nacelle. A spanner and a
>section of a shut-down warp coil followed it quickly.

TOM: So...the spanner and warp coil are on a man-hunt for the mutter?

> Chief
>Miles O'Brien stood up from the hatch, cursing loudly.
> "They could've done a better job of it."

CROW: Whoah! Miles! Watch the language!

> His Irish accent
>accompanied a lot more cursing, complimenting it in ways O'Brien
>could not understand.

MIKE: You know, I don't think *I* understand how an accent "compliments"
cursing either.
TOM: "You're the best cursing I've ever worked with, and I mean that from the
bottom of my brogue."

> The Defiant was a heap of scrap, everyone
>but the Commander knew it.

CROW: [as Sisko] "It's a fine ship! Now clean up that antimatter and shut
up!"

> And it was left up to O'Brien to fix
>it everytime the Commander wanted to play starship captain
>against some alien species. Usually the Dominion.

TOM: ...ran off with important verbs when unsuspecting fanfic writers weren't
paying attention.

> Now it was being readied for a possible conflict between Deep
>Space Nine and either a Romulan warbird, or a planetful of
>non-corporeal beings.

MIKE: Whichever one I, Raymond N. Cooper, feel like writing about right now.

> If they were anything like Q,

CROW: Based on the level of creativity here, I'd say they're going to be
pretty much identical.

> who used to
>pop in and out of the Enterprise, O'Brien's last assignment,
>they would be like the Devil himself to beat.
> And it seemed like they may be.

TOM: Does anybody else cringe in fear at grammar like this, or is it just me?
MIKE: Well, I'm a little more charitable. I take pity on the poor words that
are being so mercilessly used by this tyrant author.

> First, they had taken Kira
>to the future,then they attacked Bashir, brought Commander
>Sisko's wife back from the dead,did something to Lieutenant Dax
>to make her request a transfer, and the latest...!

TOM: Oh, it's always something with those wacky non-corporeal beings!
MIKE: Why do I get the feeling that there's some story behind these things
that we're missing?

CROW: I think we're safer having missed them.

> They had an
>innocent Bajoran executed just to make the Security Chief, Odo,
>feel bad!

CROW: Awww, is the baby security chief gonna cry now? Cry, baby!
One-two-three cry!

> Worse yet, the shadow that had been behind that had
>posed as a Starfleet officer, unknown to both Major Kira and Odo
>at the time.

MIKE: And they bought that? How many shadows are there in
Starfleet?

> If that wasn't enough, one of them, or one like them, to be
>more precise,was trying to help the DS9 crew to stop these
>shadows. She appeared and disappeared all the time, knowing
>what was going on, but not doing much about whatever was going
>on.

TOM: Guys, this is *really* bad. I'm not sure I'm gonna make it.
MIKE: We're here for you, Tom.

> Now, a meeting with the senior crew was being held in the
>ward room. The senior crew - without O'Brien.

CROW: So I'm guessing he's bitter, is that what we're supposed to
get from this?

> He had been told
>to work on the Defiant, no matter what. And, as a matter of
>fact, the announcment of the meeting told him that he was
>excepted from the meeting. Great.

CROW: Super, really swell.

> He noticed a flash of red in the Jefferie's tube.

TOM: Nancy Reagan had inexplicably materialized there.

> It dogded
>in and out of clear sight for a moment, getting closer, closer,
>closer...

ALL: AAAAH!
MIKE: Don't *do* that!

> The red streak resolved into the girl in red Starfleet
>uniform everyone had been seeing lately.

CROW: She's the Flash!
TOM: Cool!

> Brown, shoulder length
>hair, brown eyes, incredibly good looking... this was the girl
>everyone had been seeing, all right.
> O'Brien decided to ignore her, and ducked back down into the
>hatch.

MIKE: He *is* a dedicated engineer.

> "Nice weather we're having, isn't it?" she asked.
> No reply.

TOM: [sings] Is anybody listenin'? Whoooaah. No reply at all.

> She leaned down into the hatch.
> "I said i'." Still no reply.

TOM: [sings] Nooo reply at all.
CROW: Would you stop that.

> Sighing, she snapped her
>fingers,

MIKE: You go, girl.

> and O'Brien found himself outside the Defiant, out in
>space, with the girl with him.

CROW: Whoah! "Debbie Does Deep Space 9"
TOM: Wocka-chicka-wocka-chicka.

> "Don't panic," she said cheerfully. "You're being held in an
>oxygen bubble. Breathe deeply, don't hold your breath. Do you
>think I've helped everyone else, just to kill you?"

MIKE: Death's too good for you, Mr. Bond.

> "I've met a Q,"

ALL: Gesundheit!

> O'Brien muttered, risking breathing. "I know
>what non-corporeals are capable of. I don't trust them."
> "Good, neither do I." The girl settled down into a
>comfortable sitting position.

CROW: In space?

> "I think we can get on a first
>name basis, what do you think?"
> O'Brien nodded mutely.

MIKE: Oh, I think "dumbly" is perfectly acceptable here.

> "Right, I'm Sasha. You're Miles. I'm cute. You're not.
>Glad we got that settled?"

TOM: Me-ow! Kitty can scratch *me* anytime!

> O'Brien stared at her, wishing this girl would get on with
>whatever she was doing. He had to get back to the Defiant,
>after all.

MIKE: Do we really want a main character who's this dull?

> One miracle was enough for O'Brien to work on
>without being interupted by an N-C.

CROW: New Coke?
TOM: Nude Crow?
CROW: Hey!

> "I won't keep you long.

MIKE: Just a few dozen milennia.

> I just have to tell you a couple of
>things. And the effect of appearing to Bajoran Vedek's becomes
>boring after a while.

TOM: Why do I get the feeling that that's one of those in-jokes
among fanfic writers?

> My descendants are readying an assault on
>you.

CROW: If they look anything like you, bring 'em on!
MIKE: Wait, her "descendants"?
TOM: She's a single non-corporeal mother.

> They want to use mental energies to raise themselves into
>ascendancy into... N-C's, as you put it.

TOM: In your puny little mortal way.

> "Do not let them provoke you.

CROW: I'm not touching you. Does this bug you?
MIKE: They're non-corporeal, they don't touch anybody.

> I need time to get help for
>you all, I know you'll need it. Your Defiant won't be ready in
>time for transport, but I have some... family - distant cousins,
>really - on the other side of the wormhole.

TOM: I see *she's* got connections.

> I'm trying to get
>them to come here, but its going to be a long argument. I would
>like you to stay on your Defiant, and keep working on that - no
>matter what.

CROW: Not even if an annoyingly perky non-corporeal being shows
up and starts giving me orders?

> "The other thing is, tell your Commander that I'll be away
>for a short time, perhaps a day or two. Oh, and tell him that
>that Warbird will be here in one day, not four and a half, as he
>seems to think."

MIKE: Well, at this point, we've got more than enough exposition,
but no plot!

> Sasha disappeared in a flash of light, and when O'Brien could
>finally see again, he found himself in the Defiant, working on
>the warp coils in the port warp nacelle...

CROW: It's starting over!
ALL: NOOOOOO!

>
> ******
>
> "Well, people, we have three problems, as I see it."

CROW: We're stupid, we're ugly, and we smell funny.

> Commander Benjamin Sisko sat at his seat, and glanced at each
>of his officers in return.

TOM: In return of WHAT!?? It hurts...it hurts...it hurts.

> His gaze lingered on Dax for a
>moment, which she caught,and returned with an icy glare.

CROW: We've got a regular tennis match going on here.

> Sisko
>shuddered slightly. He didn't know Dax could do that to anyone

[much clearing of throats]

>- before now. Now he had proof. She was still holding the
>affair with 'Jennifer' lately. He would have to tip-toe around
>the subject then.

MIKE: I feel like there is just so much background that I'm
missing here.

> "Number one," he continued. "We have a Romulan warbird in
>the area. I don't know whether we should panic about this:
>there have been no other detections of any subspace - or other -
>distortions, namely graviton distortions, which led to the
>Warbird's discovery in the first place.

CROW: Really? What did it discover? Oh.
TOM: Guys, I really think I'm about to lose it.

> I have O'Brien looking
>into how much maintainance the Defiant will need before it can
>be classed battle ready. He thinks it's hopeless. I think he
>can pull off a miracle.

MIKE: I never believe my engineers when they say they can't do
something.

> "Number two, we have our old problem with the shadows. We
>don't know where they'll strike at next, nor who at.

[Tom starts convulsing.]
TOM:AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!
MIKE: Tom, are you okay?
TOM: Oh yeah, I'm fine. I just needed to get that out of my
system is all.

> Constable?"
> Odo cleared what passed for a throat.

ALL: Eeeeewwww!

> "I don't know,
>Commander. All I know is that 'Tuvok' claimed that O'Brien
>and... Quark," he forced the word out with some difficulty,
>"were left to be... used.

ALL: EEEEEEEWWWWW!

> Take your pick,Commander."
> Sisko hmmed.

CROW: Do you need a comb to do that?

> "Number three, the Cardassians have informed
>us, as good neighbours, of course, that a shuttle carrying
>Cardassian diplomats has been forced off course by an unknown
>entity.

MIKE: Finally! Now *that* is a perfectly normal Star Trek
premise.

> They have been deflected towards us,so I suppose we can
>prepare for the worst. I have no reason - as yet - to believe
>that all three events may be connected." Sisko leaned back in
>his chair, waiting for comments.

TOM: You suck!
CROW: Take acting lessons!
MIKE: Well, I thought it was a good use of language, and although
he could have been more honest with his physicality, I found the
performance to be generally funded and believable.
TOM & CROW: Huh?
MIKE: You're right. He sucks.

> Dax answered first. "These events may have more in common
>than you realise, Commander.

CROW: You being a stupid human and all.

> I believe that the entity that has
>pushed that shuttle towards us may be the very entities whose
>moves we are trying to guess now."
> "In that case, then, Dax," the Commander interupted, "the
>Warbird may have been directed at us."
> "That would be a logical conclusion, Commander."

MIKE: So how did *you* come by it?

>
>
> Please note that, while some characters and settings are
> copyrighted to Paramount Pictures (Or whatever it is these
> days),

TOM: Huh? Oh, it's *over*.
MIKE: An abrupt, but not unwelcome ending.

> the events in this story and some of the characters
> (Sasha Wren, N'Col, the N'tChells, the shadows, etc...) are
> copyrighted to me.

CROW: C'mon! How can you copyright shadows?

> I don't care where this story gets to,
> just as long as I am credited as the author, this
> copyright blurb remains on here, and NO ONE FROM PARAMOUNT
> PINCHES MY STORIES!!!!!!

MIKE: Does he *really* think that's likely?
TOM: He says it like it's actually happened before.

>
>Raymond N. Cooper
>17 Belton Crt
>BEERWAH QLD 4519
>AUSTRALIA

CROW: Oh...he's from *Beer*-wah. That explains a lot.

TOM: Let's go guys.

o...2...3...4...5...6

[sol]

TOM: You know, Mike, far be it from me to categorize, but why
does it seem like there are so many nerdy and self-important
posters from Australia?

MIKE: Well, Tom, bear in mind that your average internet surfer
from down under isn't interested in the annoyingly nerdy
newsgroups that Americans seem so fascinated by, like sci.skeptic
or alt.startrek.creative, so the Aussies who show up on those
groups are generally the nerdiest examples of their nationality.
It can't really be taken as an accurate sampling of the country's
population, which is actually mostly pretty cool.

CROW: Oh...so other countries probably judge Americans by those
newsgroups that are fairly common internationally, like...uh...
alt.games.doom.ii.

MIKE: Yep. Scary, isn't it.

TOM: What do you think, sirs?

[Deep 13]

DR F: If you think that's scary, wait till you grab hold of the
rest of this fanfic. That's right, there's more. Four parts
more, as a matter of fact. Until the next bloodletting! Push
the button, Frank.

FRANK: Does that mean I'm an acolyte?

DR F: Just push the button!

[click]

----------------------------------------------------------------
Mystery Science Theatre 3000 and all related trademarks are all
property of Best Brains, copyright 1995. Doom is a trademark of
Id Software (and a really good couple of games). This is not
intended as an attack on the person or work of Raymond N. Cooper,
but anybody who takes themselves that seriously is begging to be
bot fodder.
----------------------------------------------------------------

This MiSTing written by Eric "Darkwing" Simon
dark...@merle.acns.nwu.edu

>"He thinks it's hopeless. I think he can pull off a miracle."

--
--
No one in the world ever gets what they want and that is beautiful
Everybody dies frustrated and sad and that is beautiful
-TMBG

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