MiSTing: TimeLapse 6/8
Chris Mayfield
>
> After going over the exacting details the meeting was ended.
Crow: It was a grueling three and a half minutes.
>Worf and Data returned to the battle bridge. Geordi returned to
>engeneering. Crusher to sick bay,
Tom: Oh, he's got the Star Trek chess set.
Mike: Picard to turbolift one. Mate.
> and Troi stopped by Picards
>room.
> Troi stood out side the room.
Crow: [Troi] Um, how do doors work again?
> "Computer ", she said, "what is the condition of the Captains
>quarters?"
Mike: MS-65.
> "The quarters are currently filled with anestitizing ageant
>five. 45 parts per million."
Crow: I think Demetrius just found the audience interest rate.
> "Discontinue. Return enviromental conditions so normal. Keep
>the door sealed."
>
Tom: Well that scene certainly advanced the plot.
> After explaining the conditions to Sero,
Mike: Well, there's this thing I have to do, and stuff, and though
I'd really love to stay and help with your war, I've got to get
back and tweeze my ear hairs.
> Data took the
>Enterprise out of the starbase and set in a heading back towards
>the rift point.
Tom: That is a remarkably stable spatial anomaly.
> The ship had been underway for about a hour
>before Picard can staggering onto the bridge.
Crow: [drunkenly singing] London Bridge is falling down (hic),
falling down, falling down...where's the bloody chorus!?
> He was clearly not
>himself. He twitched, leaned, and had problems walking.
Tom: Uh oh, he's pulling a Shatner.
> He was
>also carrying a phaser on his belt.
Crow: Captain Picard--he's armed and...mildly disruptive.
> He stopped in front of Data.
> "Commander Data, I hereby relieve you."
Mike: [Picard] You'll never command in this town again.
> "Sir ", said Data," I do not believe you are in any condition
>to return to command. Therefore I refuse to
Tom: Use the pen in Pennsylvania.
> turn over command to
>you at this time."
> "Data ", said Picard in a nice voice,
Crow: [laughing] This is rich.
Tom: [Picard, in a nice voice] Bite me, tin man.
> " this is my ship and I
>plan to be in command." His voice grew angerier with each word.
> "No, Sir.
Mike: [Data] You are not using a nice voice anymore.
> You are not fit for command."
> Picard was now very upset. He took a step back and drew the
>phaser.
Crow: [Picard] Give me back my command or I'll continue sketching!
> "This is my ship!", he yelled,
Mike: Of course it is, of course it is.
Tom: [Picard] And I'm a starship captain!
Mike: I know you are. Did you take your little pills, today?
> " You will not deniy me my
>command!"
> "Sir if you continue like this I will be foreced to -"
Tom: Hyphenate?
> He never finished the statment. Picard fired on Data. The
>setting could not kill Data, but it was able to render
Crow: Him as a cheap 3-D computer image.
> his
>inactive.
Tom: His *what* inactive?
Mike: You know, his... [gestures awkwardly] Like that guy in "The
Sun Also Rises."
> Worf, not believing his captains actions, jumped over
>the console; hitting Picard and knocking the phaser from his
>hand.
Mike: He then proceeded to take out a lifetime of aggressions on
the unarmed captain.
Tom: [Worf] And this is for potty training, and this is for the
first day of 7th grade gym and that shower incident, and this...
> A hand struggle began
Crow: One two three four, I declare a thumb war.
> and Picard quickly fell.
> "Bridge to sick bay", said Worf," medical emergency.
Mike: The captain's fallen and he can't get up!
Tom: It's a good thing they have First Alert.
> The
>captain has been hurt, and Data is down."
Crow: [announcer] He's down, and it appears it's going to be
short. It looks like the Enterprise will have to punt.
> "On our way."
Crow: Mike, what's deja vu?
Mike: It's the feeling that you've seen or done something before.
>
> In only a few moments Doctor Crusher ran onto the bridge.
>Followed shortly after by Geordi.
Tom: Followed shortly after by more sentence fragments.
Mike: We get the point, Tom.
> Crusher, who had quickly run a
>full scan of the captain, said that she had to get him to sick
>bay. Geordi, doing
Crow: Angel dust, smack, PCP, marijuana, nicotine patches, pixie
sticks, Elmer's glue...
> mucch the same for Data, concluded that all
>repairs would have to be done from
Mike: Sunny Acapulco!
> engeneering.
> "But a ship can not be without its captain ", protested Worf.
Crow: And just who knocked him out, hmmm?
> "It looks like you're incharge now ", said Geordi as he took
>the damaged Data off the bridge.
Mike: With a putty knife.
Tom: That's going to leave a stain.
> Worf moved around to the captain's chair.
Mike: [Worf] I get the comfy chair now!
> He was noticable
>not happy over the quick change
Tom: Starring Bill Murray.
> in command. The Doctor and Geordi
>had been gone only a few minutes before disaster struck.
Mike: You just can't turn your back on Worf. He gets into one mess
after another.
> "Sir ", said an ensign," we are reciving a report from the
>starbase.
Crow: It's about the long term effects of fertilizers on the
environment.
> They are under attack."
> Worf mumbled something under his breath.
Tom: [Worf] Razzafracken lousy rizzen Poltars.
> "Change course to
>return to the
Crow: Nearest plot point.
> starbase. Sound red alert. Phasers and photons
>ready. Increase to best possable speed."
Mike: Everything is for the best at the best of all possible
speeds.
> The day was not going well.
Tom: [Worf] I hate Mondays.
>
> Within the hour the Enterprise arived at the starbase and
>sure enough
Mike: Demetrius can't write.
Crow: "Sure enough?" Where did Demetrius learn to write? Colorful
Colloquialisms R Us?
> the base was under attack. Five large Poltar ships
All: [singing] Five Poltar ships!
Tom: Four calling birds...
>had taken up a possition around the base.
Tom: They were "safe."
> The bases small ships
>and fighters were of little help against the war ships. Continual
>vollies of phaser fire were shot back and forth.
All: [singing] Christmas in Niggertown, it's a dirty little war.
3-5-0-0.
> The small
>fighters swerved in close; fireing at point blank range. Only to
>have there shots deflected and the ships distroied.
Crow: Quick, shoot the Enterprise!
Mike: Why?
Crow: Then they can dis-Troi it.
Tom: Doh!
> A few had
>even resulted in kamakasi like dives into the Poltar shields.
Mike: Oooh, it looks like he didn't come out of his tuck in time.
That will cost him some points.
>Explosions lit up the darkness of space. Rainbows of light
>stretched from one ship to another.
Crow: Sir, they've turned on the Lucky Charms Ray!
> Worf was one pissed Star
>Fleet officer.
Mike: Thank you, Demetrius, for that valuable character insight.
> "Helm, take us to the far side.
Tom: I'm sorry sir, but Gary Larson stopped drawing it.
> Lock all weapons on the first
>and second ships. Extend shields 10 meters. Transporter room, as
>we pass by I want as many time delayed torpedos as you can get
>beamed as far as possable.
Crow: I'm no Trekkie, but don't they *shoot* photon torpedoes?
> We cann't drop shields so they will
>have to be placed inside.
Tom: If they can't lower the shields, how are the torpedoes going
to get out from inside the Enterprise's shields?
> Notify the base that we have arrived."
> The first pass went well. Almost like poetry.
Mike: I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree.
Crow: In the room the women come and go, talking of Michelangelo.
Tom: Yours not to reason why, yours but to do or die.
Mike: Yikes, that's painfully appropriate.
> As the
>Enterprise circled It
Crow: That's different. A Star Trek/Stephen King crossover.
> fired on two of the attacking ships. The
>transported torpedos detonated
Tom: Inside the Enterprise's shields, killing hundreds.
Mike: [Worf] And why did I think this was a good idea?
> just outside the shields. Taking
>with them large chunks of the Poltar ships. There was no longer
>any doubt that the Enterprise was there.
Mike: There was never any doubt to begin with.
> "We must draw them away from the starbase. We can not risk
>harming the base." Worf was in his element.
Mike: Water?
Crow: Air?
Tom: Osmium?
> "Sir, now reading four more ships approching."
> "Distance?"
Tom: No, ships! Weren't you listening?
> "Just now entering the system. ETA about 30 minutes."
> "Helm, plot a course
Crow: For love.
All: [hum the Love Boat theme]
> close to the systems astiriod belt.
>Ready full power to the tractor beams. As we pass I want you to
>grab as many as you can.
Mike: Why do they want more tractor beams?
> Then head towards the incoming group."
> "Aye, sir." The helmsman was not to sure about this idea.
Tom: Of all the characters Demetrius could have given us a glimpse
into their thought processes, why him?
> The Enterprise neared the belt.
Crow: The Bible Belt.
> And with the ease of grabbing
>crackers out of a soup bowl, snared several astiriods.
Tom: But they were soggy.
Crow: [singing] Asteroid crackers in my soup...
> The
>Enterprise then turned to face the oncoming threat.
Mike: Series cancellation.
> "Increse speed to full impulse. On my mark reliese the
>astiriods and drop back behind them. Ready... NOW!"
Tom: Sic the National Organization of Women on them!
> The scean from the Poltar ship must have been amazing. An out
>of date ship heading near full speed towards out numbering
>forces.
Mike: [Hussein] This is the mother of all phrases.
Tom: Hypocrite!
> Then to drop back behind a swarm of astiriods on a
>colision course.
Crow: I call no way. They can't be carrying asteroids behind them
and release them and not get smashed.
> The Poltar commander was impressed to say the
>least.
Tom: Which is what Demitrius usually does. In the largest amount
of words possible.
> "Sir, Poltar formation breaking up."
Mike: Sir, Poltar formation involved in a messy custody battle.
> "Fire a single photon into the middle of the astiriods. Timer
>delay."
Crow: [scientist] Thanks to modern science we have been able to
combine the egg timer and the neutron bomb.
> The Torpedo was sent flying. Just inside the mass of rocks
>the torpedo exploded. Sending astiriods every where.
Tom: Fragments were everywhere.
Mike: I told you no more remarks like that.
Tom: I was talking about the asteroids! Honest!
Mike: Sure you were.
> Much like a
>primitive shotgun. Poltar ships that were not ready for it were
>hit bad.
> One ship was disrtiod completely.
Crow: It was misspelled out of existence.
> Another two were
>severly dammaged. Only one escaped unharmed.
Mike: Though the emotional scars would last forever.
> "Helm, lock weapons on the undamaged ship. Prepare for Picard
>manuver. Now."
Tom: Stagger in drunk and shoot the acting captain!
> The Enterprise was, if only for a brief second, in two places
>at once.
Crow: Ah, so the Picard maneuver allows you to suspend the laws of
physics.
> The Poltar comander took one fatal moment too long to
>deside which was which. A moment that he would not live
Tom: In infamy. Or something like that.
> to
>regeret. The other two crippled ships
Mike: Hey! That's physically challenged ships!
> advanced on the Enterprise.
>They flanked to eather side and fired. The Enterprise caught in
>the middle took massave amounts of punishment.
Crow: Sounds like the Enterprise is into S and M.
> Unfortunatly for
>the Poltar the Enterprise could dish out as much as it could
>take. After a brief few moments the other two ships were no more.
Tom: Well, that was anti-climactic.
Mike: I think it's a daring move to leave the fighting out of a
fight sequence.
> "Change course to return to the starbase. Prepare for a high
>warp jump on my mark. Bring us in course three five seven mark
>nine."
Crow: Eleven thirteen fifteen mark seventeen.
> "But sir that will put us right in the middle of it."
Bots: Of what?
Mike: No, "it," the impersonal pronoun.
> "I know ensign. Just do it. And be ready for that jump if you
>are planing to live."
Tom: It would be just Worf's luck if he ended up with a suicidal
ensign.
> The Enterprise came to rest between the two larger ships.
> "Sir, they are locking on phasers. Sir, they are preparing to
>fire."
Crow: Sir, they are killing us. Sir, we are dead.
> "GO NOW!!"
> The Poltar ships fired. Just as the barrage neared the
>Enterprise the Enterprise warped out.
Tom: Hey, that reminds me. How can you fight a faster than light
starship? Your target can outrun any phasers or torpedoes.
Mike: Hush, you're ruining our suspension of disbelief.
> The phasers missed the
>Enterprise all together. The weapons impacted with the other
>ships.
Crow: So the Poltars are a spacefaring race OF COMPLETE IDIOTS?
> The Poltar had for all intensive perposes shot each other.
Tom: They shot themselves for some concentrated dolphins?
Mike: That's supposed to be "intents and purposes," not "intensive
porpoises."
>The Enterprise ran out a few kilometers and turned.
Crow: And coughed.
Mike: You're repeating yourself.
Crow: And he isn't? Volley volley volley volley volley.
> The two
>damaged ships were jumped by the remaining resisstance ships. The
>third turned and ran; not wishing to suffer a similer fate.
Mike: It ran before it could get too deeply involved in this
story.
> "Helm, take us back to the starbase. Prepare to dock."
> "Aye, sir"
Mike: [getting up] I wonder what those Poltars look like?
Crow: Who knows?
[1...2...3...4...5...6...]
Mike: Well, we're 3/4 of the way through the story, and we still
don't know who the enemy is. Any ideas?
Tom: The name Poltar just screams "monster chickens" to me.
Crow: You think everything screams "monster chickens" to you.
Personally, I think that the Poltar are a race of fast drivers
and snappy dressers.
Mike: Sort of like Italians?
Crow: Exactly.
Tom: I picture the Poltarians as free spirited drifters, slowly
conquering any races in their spiritual path across the universe.
Crow: No, no, no. The Poltarians are a race of sentient plants who
are scouring the universe looking for a really good mulch.
Tom: What if they were disembodied fingernails? [shudders] Elgh!
Crow: Maybe they're just like you and me, except their feet are
where their ears should be.
Tom: What do you think, Mike?
Mike: I've got a feeling they're just another poorly defined
character, a race of one dimensional killing machines who exist
only for cannon fodder and plot advancement.
[long, awkward pause]
Crow: That certainly sucked the life out of this little game.
Mike: Um, yeah. Uh, we'll be right back.
[Commercials]
[Continued in part 7]