[Both start going around the bridge of the SOL, on and off screen,
calling for Crow. Finally, they meet back in front of Cambot]
JOEL: This isn't getting us anywhere.
TOM: Right. What we need to do is to put ourselves in his mindset.
JOEL: So if I was a vaguely-humanoid robot with an acute sense of
agoraphobia, where would I go?
TOM: Crow is afraid of sweaters?
JOEL: Not angora-phobia; agoraphobia!
TOM: I suppose that would explain his screams of terror when Ed Wood is
mentioned ...
JOEL: Crow is not afraid of sweaters. Now where could he be?
TOM: Well not in the closet, then.
JOEL: The closet! Of course!
[Joel goes offstage and comes back with a steel wardrobe on wheels. Once
he moves it into place, he springs open the door to reveal a pile of
sweaters that appear to be trembling]
TOM: See, I told you he wasn't afraid of sweaters!
JOEL: Crow? Crow, could you come out, please?
CROW: [muffled] No! It's cold outside!
JOEL: But we're inside, Crow. It's nice and warm on the Satellite of
Love.
CROW: There's no kind of atmosphere!
TOM: And you're all alone?
CROW: More or less.
ALL: [singing] Let me fly
Far away from here
Fun, fun, fun
In the sun, sun, sun
Fun, fun, fun
In the sun, sun, sun ...
[Crow comes out, and all link arms for the final segment]
ALL: o/~ bum bum bum ba-bum, bum bum bum ba-bum, bum ba-bum ba ba bum,
BUM! o/~
[beat]
JOEL: That was terrible. Stealing from another show...
CROW: But I feel much better.
JOEL: You do?
CROW: Sure. I came to the realization that I'm a robot, so even if there
was a hole in the ship and all the air went out, I'd still be
okay.
TOM: Hey, that's right!
JOEL: Erm...
CROW: You'd be pretty dead, though, Joel.
TOM: Maybe he could come back as a hologram.
[Lights, flashing, siren, panic]
JOEL: Speaking of dwarves: we've got FANFIC SIGN!!
[ ... 6 ... 5 ... 4 ... 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... ]
[As they're filing in the theatre...]
TOM: You know, none of that really explained why you forgot we were in
space.
CROW: Oh, I had some Cheez Whiz this morning.
JOEL: You know better than that. That stuff is evil.
CROW: I've learned my lesson.
>"We are in range of their weapons, Commander," Kim called nervously.
TOM: I thought they had a full hour!
>"They are firing."
JOEL: If this were on television, the bridge would be full of exploding
consoles, making his statement unnecessary.
CROW: So you're saying it's necessary now?
JOEL: Of course not.
>"Winston?" Chakotay called.
TOM: [Chakotay] Where are my slippers?
>He had been waiting for this.
CROW: Also in the Starfleet Guidebook: "Wait until the last possible
second to do anything. Remember, we have an hour time slot to
fill."
>There had been no response from Engineering since he had pressed his
>need for warp power upon B'Elanna 15 minutes ago.
JOEL: Cut her some slack. She was busy with her time of fame.
>He was also gambling upon the Kommodan vessels not wanting to cause
>excessive damage to Voyager,
TOM: I dunno. Anyone who's named after toilets probably doesn't have
very appealing plans for a captured starship.
CROW: The term "shithouse" comes to mind.
>relying upon the saboteurs to disable the ship.
JOEL: So Chakotay's relying on the saboteurs now?
TOM: I knew it! No one's -that- ineffective and still gets to be
second-in-command!
CROW: Nah. He's not smart enough to be in league with the enemy, even if
they are just water closets.
>Their long range bombardment was simply to keep them busy.
JOEL: Busy doing what?
TOM: To find out, send $19.95 (plus shipping and handling).
JOEL: Must be eighteen or older.
>He wanted them a lot closer before he revealed his own hand,
CROW: [Chakotay] Ha! A full house!
TOM: But doesn't a flush beat a full house?
>to this end he had instructed Kim to take phasors offline to suggest they
>had been disarmed from the inside.
JOEL: [Kommodan] Sir, they've shut off their weapons.
TOM: [Other Kommodan] Did we hit them?
JOEL: No.
TOM: Graze them?
JOEL: No.
TOM: Insult them?
JOEL: No.
TOM: They must be dead then. Full speed ahead!
JOEL: Should we lower shields?
TOM: Sure!
>"Working on it, Sir!" Winston's voice was a model of calmness.
CROW: How do you model calmness?
TOM: You mean, what shape does it come in?
CROW: Yeah.
JOEL: I think Michelangelo would say "elephant."
>He had picked up the weapons discharge on his sensors moments after Kim
TOM: This -is- the bridge, right? Where all the action takes place on a
gigantic screen not two feet away from where he's sitting? And he
still needs sensors?
>and was already rolling Voyager
CROW: ... into a joint.
JOEL: Ah, so that's how he stays so calm.
>and hauling the ship around in a new direction.
TOM: What, by himself?
CROW: You'd think they would have controls for that sort of thing.
>"They are firing again. Multiple discharges," Kim almost shouted this
>time, an almost complete opposite to the pilots.
TOM: Oh, good, so there are at least two pilots.
JOEL: Still, that's a lot of work for just two guys.
>"Can't miss them all, Sir!"
JOEL: See?
CROW: This is what happens when the military has to make budgetary
cutbacks.
JOEL: Headcount is always the first to go.
>Winston intoned, his hands still working the ships controls.
TOM: [Winston] Let's see, they ordered the extra value meal, no mustard,
Diet Coke ...
>"They are well in range, Commander?" Kim suggested his nerves making his
>voice quiver.
JOEL: Don't ask us!
>"When you can't miss with manual targeting, we will fire. Not before,"
CROW: Wouldn't they have to turn the phasers back on first?
TOM: Only if they wanted to retain a shred of continuity.
CROW: I'll take that as a "no," then.
>Chakotay hissed as the ship rocked to the one salvo Winston had not been
>able to avoid.
JOEL: If an officer hisses in a loud battle, and no one hears it, is it
still an order?
>"Shields down 5%," called ensign Abott from ops,
TOM: Is that down -to- 5%, or are they just down to 95% and she's trying
to panic everyone?
CROW: Let's pray for the former.
>trying hard to emulate the seeming calmness of Chakotay and Winston.
JOEL: [Winston] Here, have a joint.
>She knew her voice was shaking though.
CROW: Is she shaking faster than light?
TOM: Huh?
CROW: Well, everyone else seems to be able to. I'd hate for her to be
left out.
>She had never thought her flippant volunteering to take her first bridge watch
>was going to turn out like this.
JOEL: I thought we had determined that she was anything -but- flippant.
CROW: No, we determined that she wasn't a mouse so much as a groundhog.
JOEL: Right.
>She felt guilty for everything that was happening. If she had decoded
>Seven of Nine's message they might not have been in this position.
TOM: And thus proves Chakotay's superiority by adding two and two
together ... and getting three.
>Chakotay also heard the quiver of fear in her voice and spared the time
>to offer what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
CROW: [Chakotay] We're in the middle of a pitched battle, but I'd like
to flirt with you for a minute.
>"You should have volunteered for the Dog Watch," he suggested,
JOEL: [Chakotay] They let the dwarves on board, you know. It's what they
do.
>trying to be light-hearted.
TOM: Yeah, I'd like to weigh his heart with a feather.
JOEL & CROW: What?!
TOM: Sorry, Egyptian joke.
>"This is a picnic compared to what the Colonel puts them through, isn't
>it Ensign Winston?"
JOEL: So the Colonel occasionally sabotages the ship and attacks from
the vents?
CROW: Surprising that they were caught unprepared, then.
>"Aye, Sir!" Winston responded, slapping another pad to send Voyager
>skidding across space again
TOM: How do you skid in a vacuum?
>as another plasma bolt sailed past a nacelle. "A picnic where the jam
>has been spilt for the wasps."
ALL: [Dryly] Ah-ha. Ha. Ha.
CROW: Kill me. Kill me now.
>"Manual lock on lead ship, range 5000 kilometres!" Kim cried in
>jubilation.
JOEL: That's good, Ensign. Now do you see that little red button in
front of you? The one with the word "Fire" on it?
CROW: If they never promote this guy, it'll be too soon.
>Chakotay sighed in relief. At that range the torpedoes would be
>devastating.
TOM: ... to both ships, but he wasn't one to let a little thing like
death stop him.
JOEL: "Wasn't" being the key word here.
>He was about to give the command to fire when Lieutenant
>Caerey's voice broke in from Engineering. "Warp Power!"
CROW: [Chakotay] Damn Caerey, stealing my thunder.
>It changed the situation totally.
TOM: So now that they have warp, they're going to play nice?
>"Harry, reload the stern tubes with cluster torpedoes and a starburst
>probe. Bring Phasors up, lock onto as many ships as we can.
JOEL: "Injure many, destroy few." Interesting strategy.
CROW: For "idiotic" values of "interesting," maybe.
>When we are through fire the starburst and the cluster torpedoes," Chakotay
>demanded rapidly.
JOEL: That's it! I've got ... six dollars.
TOM: I've got ten.
CROW: I've got seventy-five thousand.
JOEL: Good. Let's go buy Ray-Ray a thesaurus.
TOM: Seventy-five -thousand-?!
>"Winston, spin us around to face the enemy as soon as Ensign
>Kim is ready. Take us into warp."
CROW: [Winston] Which one, sir? You can't have it both ways.
>"Ready!" Kim reported twenty seconds later.
TOM: So what happened in those twenty seconds?
JOEL: The ship was destroyed.
TOM: And ... ?
JOEL: Ray-Ray's ignoring that tragic turn of events in favour of the
story.
TOM: Oh. Pity.
>"Rotating," Winston announced immediately, ignoring the explosion of
>sparks emanating from the consoles behind as Voyager was struck by two
>more plasma bursts.
CROW: ... killing two crewman who will never be identified.
JOEL: I'm more surprised that the attacking ships knew Voyager was going
to turn.
>"Shields down to 40%!" Abott screamed over the noise, reminding them how
>close they were.
TOM: How close they were to what, exactly?
CROW: I'm hoping death, but I think the bridge is getting a bit cramped
for her.
>"Fire as we bear!"
JOEL: [Kim] I'm more of a horse person, myself.
>Chakotay relished the command
CROW: Ewww. I can't stand relish.
TOM: Why not?
CROW: It squeaks against my teeth.
JOEL: That almost made sense, except you don't have teeth.
>as four torpedoes leapt from Voyagers forward tubes
TOM: [sfx] SPROING!
>and swung for their targets.
CROW: As opposed to heading right back to Voyager.
>From the top array a beam lanced out and held the nearest ship
JOEL: [beam] No, really; would you like to dance?
>for what seemed to be an eternity.
TOM: This story -is- an eternity.
>As it subsided a second beam lanced from the lower array and held a second
>vessel.
CROW: [beam] You are under arrest. You have the right to fire back; you
have the right to disobey the Prime Directive. If you do not have
a code of honour to disavow, one will be provided for you...
>Four flashes showed the torpedoes had found their targets.
JOEL: However, the flashes refused to be associated with any sort of
explosion.
>Then the view slurred as the ship leapt into warp.
TOM: [Voyager] No, really, officher, I'm not drunk.
>"Starburst and clusters fired commander," Kim announced almost immediately.
CROW: A little slow on the uptake, isn't he?
>"Course laid," Winston responded immediately.
JOEL: He's a little faster on the ball, but not by much.
>"Three vessels have been disabled, Commander," Kim reported the details
>of their quick firing. "The fourth has suffered severe damage to shields
>and drive."
TOM: What sort of drive?
CROW: The drive to live, to see, to seek out new life and civilizations
...
JOEL: Wrong show.
CROW: Oh. Probably warp, then.
>Chakotay slumped in his seat in satisfaction.
JOEL: [Chakotay] Oh, good. Time for my nap.
>Ensign Abott cleared her throat politely, trying to stop herself panting
>from excitement.
CROW: Oh, so she's one of -those- types of girls.
>"Excuse me, Commander. What is a Starburst?"
TOM: [Chakotay] It's a square juicy candy. Here, let's go to the vending
machine ...
>Kim spared the Commander having to explain.
JOEL: [Kim] Shh, don't wake up the Commander when he's taking his nap.
>"It's a probe the Captain had Tuvok develop, from an idea of the Colonel's.
>When it is detonated
CROW: Wait a minute; a probe that detonates? Doesn't that make it a
torpedo?
>it throws out so much clutter it blinds sensors for at least fifteen
>seconds.
TOM: [Kim] Or, at least, inferior sensors like ours, which is all that
really matters.
>If we change direction when it explodes we can be a long way away before
>people can see again.
JOEL: So it basically pokes people in the eyes and runs away?
CROW: Voyager, the Three Stooges of space.
>This was its first test."
TOM: So then how do they know what it really did?
>"The cluster torpedoes will act as a mini minefield," Chakotay added
>reflectively.
JOEL: Put the mirror down, Chakotay; you're not that good-looking.
>"They might not do a lot of damage to the larger ships, but it might slow
>them down a little.
CROW: Unless, of course, if they actually go -around- the minefield.
TOM: A species that actually thinks three-dimensionally? Don't be
ridiculous.
>Now we only have the Borg to deal with. Where is it?"
JOEL: So they're down to a single cube now? Where are the other two?
CROW: On Q's trans-dimensional Monopoly board, I suppose.
>"They haven't changed direction. I don't think they have a lock on us
>yet, Commander," Kim declared.
TOM: Noooo, of course not. You poked them in the eyes too, right?
>"Winston set course after that cube that left!"
JOEL: Make sure you go around the minefield, though.
CROW: Boy, that'd be embarrassing.
>Chakotay ordered in relief. "I want a full damage, casualty and progress
>report on capturing the dwarves!"
TOM: So he wants a damage report on the dwarves ...
CROW: ... casualty report on the dwarves ...
JOEL: ... and progress report on the dwarves.
TOM: That's nice of him and all, but shouldn't he be worried about the
actual ship?
>"Five dead, twenty-three wounded.
CROW: Ten to one that none of the dead are named.
>It is proving difficult to get to some of the wounded," Kim answered.
JOEL: Couldn't they just use the transporters?
TOM: I dunno. As far as we know, Carver's still lying in front of the
turbolift.
>"The ship seems largely intact, a couple of relays have blown out.
CROW: It's so sad to see so much technology lost over the years. Surge
protectors, fuses ...
>Reports suggest that there could be as many as two hundred dwarves
>aboard."
TOM: Wow. Those guys have been busy.
JOEL: Well, you know how it is. You star in a major animated classic,
and soon every female dwarf wants your body.
>"Impossible! They are counting twice. There is no-way they could hide
>that many!" Chakotay snapped.
CROW: With your security? I admire their restraint.
>"Excuse me, Sir!" Winston said politely. "The Colonel has often said he
>could hide a full company on Voyager.
JOEL: Which company?
CROW: Maybe Microsoft.
>And the Komons are only half his size."
TOM: Do you think Ray-Ray's trying to tell us anything by switching
between "commode" and "common"?
CROW: Maybe he's saying that pretty much any everyday, run-of-the-mill,
common individual could outsmart the Voyager crew in his sleep.
JOEL: And the "commode" bit?
CROW: That a common man would be overkill; average toilet water has more
brainpower than the entire population of the ship.
>Chakotay turned to slap down the ensign,
JOEL: Interesting discipline policy, chief.
>then remembered the arguments that he, Tuvok and the Captain had had
>with the Colonel over the poor sensor coverage in parts of the ship.
TOM: Of which nothing was done, of course.
>He was proving correct.
CROW: Erm, which "he"?
JOEL: At least we can eliminate the Captain.
TOM: That's good. If Janeway was actually right about something, the
universe would probably explode.
>"And he would make it look as though we were being attacked by a
>regiment," he sighed at last, relaxing in his seat.
JOEL: [Chakotay] Oh, good, then we're going to die.
TOM: [Chakotay] Time for one last nap, then.
>"The shields have just failed," Abott spoke up.
ALL: Hurrah!
CROW: A few paragraphs ago, they said that if the shields went, they
were as good as dead.
TOM: It's just a matter of time, now.
>"I'm trying to reroute power, but they won't come up again!
JOEL: Crow ...
CROW: I wasn't going to say anything. Honest.
>I think long range scans have been affected as well!"
TOM: [singing] The long range is connected to the ... shields!
CROW: [singing] The shields are connected to the ... crew's lives!
>There was panic in her voice again.
JOEL: What, again?
>"Engineering. Report?" Chakotay demanded quickly.
JOEL: Grrrrr ...
CROW: Now, now, Joel. Why don't you ignore it and move on to something
else?
JOEL: Where's my thesaurus?!
>Samantha Wildman answered him. "We have three dead, Commander. Eight
>injured, including Lieutenant Paris, two seriously, including Lieutenant
>Caerey.
TOM: Notice that only the starring members of the crew are mentioned by
name.
CROW: And that they're not fatally injured, besides being shot by the
same weapons.
>He cross linked the Warp controls like a christmas tree before he was hurt.
JOEL: "Warp" is capitalized, but not "Christmas"?
TOM: And thus are Ray-Ray's priorities suddenly revealed.
>We're struggling to get that under control. The ventilation system down here
>is shot
CROW: ... literally ...
>and we are rigging forcefields across every access into Engineering."
TOM: [Wildman] As such, we can't breathe, but I don't think that will
affect our competency all that much.
>"How badly hurt is B'Elanna?" Chakotay asked in sudden concern. He
>needed the gifted engineer to be working.
JOEL: [Chakotay] I don't -care- if she's got a gaping head wound; I need
the ship to be fixed!
>"Nothing serious, I think," Wildman replied.
CROW: So Wildman's a doctor?
TOM: Come to think of it, I don't know what her official function on the
ship is.
JOEL: I think it's "Plot Device."
>"She is unconscious though. She went berserk, then passed out after
>blowing the Kommodan's out of the vents."
TOM: Well, sure; that's bound to hyperventilate anybody.
CROW: Except Superman.
>"We are going to need her," Chakotay pointed out, rather sharper than he
>had intended.
JOEL: [Chakotay] Well, actually, -I- need her.
CROW: [Chakotay] In my bedroom. In two hours.
>"I know, Commander!"
>
>"Shields are down, can you fix them?"
TOM: [Wildman] Sure! Let me wave my magic wand ...
>"I don't know, Commander. Just a moment, I'll run a trace on the
>circuitry."
JOEL: The calls are coming from inside the house!
>Thirty seconds of impatient waiting later Samantha Wildman responded.
CROW: Who's impatiently waiting?
TOM: I refuse to diagram sentences. My guess is the seconds.
>"I think there is a major distribution,
JOEL: Oh, that's a relief.
CROW: Someone must have forseen their need.
JOEL: They'll probably charge an arm and a leg, though.
>node out of action
TOM: Isn't "out of action" usually reserved for sentients?
CROW: Well, you know how it is. You're stuck on the same ship for seven
years, it becomes part of the crew.
>Section 4 Deck 8, Commander. But we can't get to it! There are several
>Kommodans roaming the corridors outside Engineering.
JOEL: [Wildman] They're singing "Hi ho, hi ho" over and over again. It's
getting really annoying.
>It is only the forcefields stopping them getting in."
TOM: [Wildman] Or us getting out for that matter. I learned that from
you.
>Chakotay slapped the arms of his chair in frustration.
CROW: Aren't the arms of that chair filled with controls?
JOEL: ... and so, hopefully, he's just started the self-destruct
sequence.
>Without shields and sensors Voyager was almost defenceless and blind.
TOM: "Almost"?
JOEL: Well, they can always look out a window.
TOM: And defend themselves how?
JOEL: Running away. Terribly fast.
>The Dwarf situation was going to have to be dealt with urgently, sensors would
>have to be dealt with immediately.
CROW: No one will be seated during the gripping "prioritizing" scene.
>Only he was not sure how he was going to get somebody from the severely
>depleted engineering out of engineering to fix the problems.
ALL: Transporters!
TOM: Geez, how did this guy get in charge?
>"Winston, can you find your way to that magnetic anomaly the Colonel and
>Seven went to investigate?" he asked thoughtfully.
JOEL: Chakotay? Doing something thoughtfully?
CROW: Boy, talk about out-of-character moments ...
>"We'll hide in that until we've dealt with our problems."
TOM: But won't just about everyone see where you're going?
>"Aye, Sir. Course plotted and laid in," Winston responded immediately.
>
>"You had it already plotted?" Chakotay accused, almost amused.
JOEL: Slowly, he begins to realize everyone else is better than him.
>"It seemed like a likely destination, Sir. I've kept track of it."
CROW: [Winston] I've also been keeping track of a 7-11. I'd like a Big
Gulp.
>"The Colonel's training!" Chakotay muttered under his breath.
TOM: So -- again -- I'd like to ask: why isn't the Colonel in charge?
>"I suppose you are going to give me an obvious solution to getting the
>sensors and shields on-line?" Chakotay challenged.
JOEL: [Winston] Well, sir, since you're so obviously incompetent ...
>Winston did not answer. Instead he looked over his shoulder at Ensign
>Abbott.
CROW: [Winston] Abbott! I can see you!
TOM: You know, the constant change of her name from "Abbott" to "Abott"
is really starting to get on my nerves.
>Chakotay followed his gaze
CROW: How -do- you follow a gaze?
JOEL: It's a lot like breadcrumbs, but without the birds.
CROW: Oh. Okay.
>and saw the ensign blush deeply.
TOM: So it was one of those types of looks, then?
>"Ensign?" he asked quietly.
JOEL: [Chakotay] So you're smarter than me, too?
CROW: Thus bringing the total up to ninety-eight billion and one ...
>"I think I can fix the distribution node, Sir!" She stammered in
>embarrassment.
TOM: [Abbott] I hate admitting my abilities! They'll make me do stuff!
>"Are you sure?" Chakotay asked, keeping his voice quiet.
CROW: [Chakotay] It's not that I don't trust you, it's that I don't
believe in you.
>He distinctly remembered B'Elanna wanting her out of Engineering. "Your
>reports from engineering were never encouraging,"
JOEL: Isn't it nice how Ray-Ray will constantly repeat himself and type
things again to make sure we understand and comprehend these
little details and minutia?
TOM: You mean how Ray-Ray will identify key-critical elements of the
plot in such a way as to duplicate them extensively so we can fully
realize these things needed to be said and stated?
JOEL: Quite. Exactly. Precisely. Right-on. Correct. Yes.
>he almost kicked himself at that comment,
CROW: Don't stop on -our- account.
>it was a low blow and he saw her blanch.
TOM: I thought her name was Abbott?
JOEL: Or Abott.
>"I'm a Mineralogist not an Engineer, Sir.
CROW: [Bones] Dammit, Jim!
>I'm not as fast as the others, Sir," she protested plaintively.
TOM: She must be the only member of the crew unable to move faster than
light.
>"It wasn't because I couldn't do it, Sir!"
JOEL: [Abbott] It's because I didn't want to! Yeah, that's the ticket!
>"I'm sorry ensign," Chakotay apologised. "We'll do it. Together."
ALL: [singing] So happy ... together ...
>He turned, all action again.
CROW: [Chakotay] Whew. Got -that- lousy subplot out of the way.
>"Kim, get somebody from security to meet us at the turbo lift on Deck 8.
TOM [Chakotay] Anybody. Doesn't matter who.
JOEL: Someone with their will signed and their affairs in order, I would
think.
>If you secure the Jefferies Tube with a forcefield you will have Kala back."
CROW: Though not necessarily in one piece ...
JOEL: And on that note, it looks like we don't have to take -this- all
in one piece.
[Joel picks up Tom, and they file out]
[ ... 1 ... 2 ... 3 ... 4 ... 5 ... 6 ... ]
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