MiSTed: "Away From Home, Book 1: The Field Trip"
Group MiSTing by Mike Barklage (editor)
Petrea Mitchell
Todd Gilbert
1...2...3...4...5...6...*...
[Satellite of Love. Mike, Crow, and Gypsy are at the counter.
The board game "Life" is sitting on top of the counter.]
MIKE: Okay, now you spin the wheel, Gypsy.
[Mike spins the wheel for Gypsy.]
MIKE: You got a nine.
[Mike picks up the purple car piece and starts moving it. Mike and
Gypsy both count up to nine. In the middle of it, Tom Servo enters.]
TOM: Hey guys! What have you wacky funsters got cooking over here?
MIKE: Oh, hey Tom. We're just playing "Life" until the experiment
starts.
CROW: I didn't want to. They made me.
MIKE: Do you wanna play, Tom? We just started.
TOM: "Life"? The game of conservative propoganda? No thanks!
MIKE: What are you talking about?
TOM: Well, just look at it! This game *oozes* with '80s Reagan-era
Republican values. You start off with some money and you go
to college. Then notice that you *have* to get married
and you *have* to get a job. And it's hard not to end up with
a family after that.
CROW: Hey, you're right! What's the *object* of the game? To try to
live life as happily as you can? No! It's to play the stock
market, retire, and count up your money. Whoever dies with
the most money, WINS!
TOM: Yeah! Where's the square that says, "You join a improvisational
theater troupe. Move forward 3 spaces"?
CROW: Or maybe I just wanna take my little green car --
MIKE: You're the blue one, Crow.
CROW: Yeah, uh, take my little blue car and roam the open roads...
<wistfully> the wind through my hair, tunes on the radio,
lookin' for adventure, and not a care in the world!
MIKE: Okay, so how would you change the game?
TOM: Well, first of all I'd make it so that you wouldn't have to
get married if you didn't want to, or that you could marry
either sex.
[The other 3 bots look at Tom funny.]
TOM: What?
[They snap back to reality.]
MIKE: Right. Marriage optional. <He scribbles on the board>
TOM: In fact, just get rid of that church altogether.
MIKE: <rips out church piece> Maybe we could replace it with a
mosque later. What else?
CROW: Next, take money out of the game.
MIKE: <starts collecting all the money, throws it out> Okay. But
how do we know who wins?
CROW: You don't. Nobody wins. We just die.
TOM: It'll be a lot more like real life that way.
MIKE: But where's the fun in that?
TOM: Fun? Real life isn't fun! Real life is full of pain and
suffering!
CROW: In fact, let's add a few more squares to that effect.
TOM: "Mother dies. Lose a turn."
CROW: "Job market dries up. Move back in with parents."
TOM: "Boss sexually harasses you. Pay $500 in legal fees."
MIKE: All right, that's enough! Leave it to you guys to turn a
light-hearted game into something dark and cynical.
CROW: Hey, just telling it like it is, Mike.
[Mads' light begins flashing.]
MIKE: Oh great, Dr. Demento is calling. <pushes button>
[Deep 13. Dr. Forrester is in front of the camera, laughing evilly.]
DR.F: Not even your peurile antics can ruin my good mood today,
Mike Nelson of the North! You see, I've decided to go for
the jugular with today's experiment. Remember "Enterprized,"
hmmm? Remember "A Gul's Revenge? <laughs> Well, my sources
have dredged up another shipwreck of a fanfic from that master
of disaster, Stephen Ratliff!
[SOL. Tom is (unsuccessfully) trying to stick his head in a microwave
and turn it on. Crow is sucking on a straw that is in a bottle
marked "Poison." Mike is humming while he arranges a noose.]
MIKE: <looking back at camera> Oh, don't mind us. As you were saying?
[D13.]
DR.F: No, no, no, don't pass out on me now! I want you fully not-dead
for this experiment! Try and wade through the muck that is "Away
From Home"! <pushes a button>
[SOL. All equipment of death has disappeared. Lights and buzzers are
going off.]
ALL: AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! WE GOT RATLIFF SIGN!!!
6...5...4...3...2...1...*...
[Mike, Crow, and Tom enter the theater. They are visibly shaking.]
> From: srat...@ruacad.ac.runet.edu (Stephen Ratliff)
> Date: Tue, 28 Mar 1995 04:34:25 GMT
> Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
> Subject: Away From Home : The Field Trip parts 1-6
CROW: Mike, I'm a-scared...
>
>
>
> _________________________________________________________
> | STAR TREK || _______________ |
> | THE NEXT GENERATION || .--' | |_-_| `-. `-. |
> | Away From Home: Book 1 || ,'-------' [___]1-6 | \ |
> | The Field Trip || /____PARTS__________/___ ||
> | || \_________________|_/__/ |
> | by Stephen Ratliff || (_||>______________) |
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TOM: "BOOK 1"?! AAAAAAUUUUGGH!!!!
ALL: <general crying>
>
> Prologue
> ~~~~~~~~
TOM: <sobbing>
MIKE: Come on, guys, he hasn't spelled anything wrong *yet*. We can
get through this.
>
> Personal Log
> Marrissa A. Flores
CROW: <whimper> Bite me, Marrissa. <sniff>
> STARDATE 45924
>
> Upon my mother's suggestion, I am beginning this log to, as my
> mother says, record my activities, my goals, my hopes, and my dreams.
MIKE: My first goal is to get my mom to stop bossing me around.
> I am 10 years old. I live on the USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D.
TOM: ...and I'm a Vice-Admiral in Starfleet.
> My parents are both security officers, Mom being an ensign and Dad a
> Lieutenant. My parents met and married at Starfleet Academy San
> Francisco on Earth where I was born.
CROW: In fact that's why they had to get married.
MIKE: Since then, they've led loveless, bitter lives.
> The biggest event in my life was being trapped in the turbolift
> with Captain Picard. This earned me the nickname "Number One."
MIKE: <gestures to the bots> Not a word, either of you.
CROW: I wasn't gonna say anything...
> Tomorrow my Computer Development class will be visiting the
> Daystorm Institute Expansion on Archer IV. I'm not exactly happy about
> having to retake this class.
TOM: That's what you get for being on the "five-year plan."
> Personally I find this class boring an humiliating.
CROW: I hate it when they make me wear the dunce cap.
> Boring because I have heard it all before, Humiliating
> because I'm stuck in with a bunch of eight year olds.
TOM: So Ratliff's child prodigy Marrissa flunked a third-grade class?
CROW: <snicker, giggle>
> It wouldn't be
> so bad if it weren't for the two engineering geniuses, Clara and Shayna.
MIKE: They're always blowing the curve.
TOM: You know, Ratliff has a lot of strong female characters. You think
there's something he isn't telling us?
CROW: Maybe... but that doesn't mean he's James Cameron.
> Clara's not so bad ... in fact given time I think we could become
> friends. But Shayna's never-ending practical jokes are getting on my
> nerves and we have only been in the class two weeks.
TOM: Awww, are the big bad 8-year-olds bullying poor Marrissa?
>
> Close Personal Log.
MIKE: Thank God.
> _________________________________________________________
> Chapter One |
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
>
> The mischeavious Shayna Sachs was the first to arrive at the
> shuttle taking the Computer Development class to Archer IV.
CROW: Great. Her entire character can be summed up in one word.
> She was
> happy to learn that the shuttle seating was assigned on a PADD outside
> the shuttle. It read:
>
> Pilot : Ens. Throwaway Co-Pilot : Lt. Allen
TOM: Ensign THROWAWAY?!
MIKE: Maybe Ratliff asked somebody's advice on the script and
that was the answer.
CROW: Guys, he's not even *trying* anymore. If he ever did.
> Left Right
> 1 Marrissa Flores Shayna Sachs
> 2 Jay Gordon Alexander
> 3 Clara Sutter
TOM: Ladies and gentlemen, your 1996 presidential candidates.
>
> She quickly went a placed something on a couple seats
ALL: Ewwww!
> and sat down to wait.
> Jay Gordon was next to arrive followed by Clara Sutter and the
> rest of the class. At the end of the line was Marrissa, carrying
> several PADDs and a tricorder. She sat down - on a whoopi cushion.
CROW: In space, no one can hear you --
MIKE: CROW!
TOM: Ah, the wonderful tunes of "Sister Act"...
> Everyone laughed
MIKE: ...except the readers.
> and Marrissa glared. The Lieutenant who taught
> the class arrived and entered the shuttle. As he pasted Marrissa,
ALL: YAY!! Paste her again! Hit her harder!
> she handed him the whoopi cushion.
> As he reached the cockpit he turned and said, "Behave on this
> trip or there won't be any more."
CROW: I'll turn this shuttlecraft RIGHT AROUND and... wait, we haven't
left yet.
> He turned back into the cockpit and
> sat down in the Co-Pilot seat ... on a whoopi cushion.
TOM: Humor - Ratliff style. Big and chunky.
> The Lieutenant
> looked up at the ceiling and shoke his head, while removing the
> offending item.
MIKE: If he takes his head off, how is he going to command?
> Ensign Throwaway ente4red the shuttli and sat down.
CROW: ...aparrently causing the spellchecker to explode.
> The rear of
> the shuttle closed and Lt. Allen said, "Shuttle April to bridge, Request
> permission depart for Archer IV from Shuttle bay Two."
TOM: <Data> Lieutenant, your universal translator seems to be
malfunctioning.
> "Bridge to Shuttle April," Commander Riker's voice said.
> "Permission granted, now relaying departure coordinates."
MIKE: <Lt. Allen> Uh, that would pretty much have to be _here_
commander.
> "Coordinates received," Ensign Throwaway announced. "Shuttle bay
> doors opening."
CROW: <Riker> I *know* that. We control them from here, you know.
> "Depart when ready, Bridge out."
TOM: Please use detour.
> "Leaving shuttle bay 2 now, April out," Lt Allen said.
> The shuttle moved out of the shuttle bay, between the warp
> engines.
CROW: So the shuttle is leaving, then?
TOM: Yep... pretty much.
> It turned right and slightly down and went in to warp.
MIKE: ...crashing into a warp nacelle.
>
> The shuttle craft April from the USS Enterprise was traveling
> along at warp 2 when a phaser bolt shot across it's path
CROW: I hate those random phaser blasts.
> and over the
> communications channels -- all of them -- came the message, "Heave to and
> prepare to be boarded."
TOM: Arrr, surrender, ye scurvy dogs! We'll throw ye out the airlock!
> Lieutenant Allen ordered, "Take us out of warp in that solar
> system." He indicated a nearby G-class star-system with a M-Class
> planet.
MIKE: Plot Convenience Theater presents...
TOM: I'm sensing a subliminal Oldsmobile ad, guys.
> "Lieutenant, this system has a large amount of background
> radiation," Throwaway said.
CROW: Of course. It wouldn't be TNG without subspace interference.
> "Will transporters be blocked?" Allen asked.
> "If we get closer, yes," the Ensign replied.
> "Would landing on the planet be sufficant?" Allen inquired.
MIKE: No, it wouldn't, Todd. I'd be deeply hurt.
> "Confirmed."
> "Set a course to land on the planet," Lieutenant Allen ordered.
> "Engage when ready, best possible speed.
TOM: <Throwaway> Well, I was going to go at worst possible speed, but
since you insisted...
> Computer open the distress channel."
> "Channel open."
> "This is the Shuttle craft April from the USS Enterprise. We are
> under attack from an unknown vessel in system N178278.
ALL: ...378478578.
> Request
> assistance from any federation vessels with in range of this signal,"
CROW: Like, oh, maybe, THE ENTERPRISE??
> Allen said. "Computer, append scan of vessel and repeat message until
> we are cut off.
TOM: Hey, they're spamming!
> After a couple minutes
MIKE: ...during which the enemy ship kindly refrained from doing
anything...
> it announced, "Transmission blocked after 4 repinions.
TOM: Re... huh?
MIKE: How many calories in a repinion?
CROW: I don't know, but they sure block me up.
> Enemy vessel is jamming all channels."
> "That was not a good idea," the enemy vessel transmitted. "Now
> we will have to destroy you ."
TOM: We weren't *going* to destroy you, but now we *have* to.
> "Ensign prepare for evasive maneuvers," the Lieutenant
> responded.
MIKE: <alien captain> Don't order me around like that!
> The shuttle moved toward the planet. It dodged left and right
> the purple phaser bolts of the enemy vessel.
TOM: <singing> For purple phasers' majesty/Above the fruity plots...
> As it neared the planet
> the emeny scored an glancing shot on the impulse engine.
> "Lieutenant, I've lost helm control," Ensign Throwaway
> announced. "We are going to crash land."
CROW: ...and I'm wearing the Ratliff equivalent of a red shirt!
MIKE: You mean he's over 15?
TOM: Build music! Zoom on face, soap-opera style! Fade to
commercial!
>
> Back in the cabin panic reigned.
CROW: In fact, it poured.
> Then into the chaos the shy Marrissa's voice rang out.
TOM: <timidly> Um... ring?
> "Take your seats. If you sit down, turn
> around and shut up then we will get though this."
MIKE: She is, of course, referring to the bulkhead.
> Meanwhile in the cockpit things were improving.
CROW: Things?
MIKE: Yeah, you know... things.
> "We are regaining helm control," Ensign Throwaway announced.
TOM: The ship is magically repairing itself!
> Then all the sudden things got much worse.
CROW: The story continued.
> A purple bolt hit the shuttle sending a
> pulse of electricity shot thought the hull hitting the Starfleet
> officers. They slumped over the console, dead
ALL: <laugh>
MIKE: Well, *that* was a precise shot. And a convenient plot device, too.
TOM: Yeah, I can see why the cokcpit-on-the-hull design never caught on.
>
> Chapter Two
> ~~~~~~~~~~~
>
> In the Cabin of the Shuttle April, Shayna noticed the crew's
> death and sweared.
CROW: Then she reckoned she had to light out for the west.
>Clara fainted. The boys were stunned.
TOM: Quite frankly, so are the readers.
> "We are going to die," Alexander moaned, unklingon-like.
> "No, you are not," Marrissa said, calmly yet loudly.
MIKE: When Marissa screams, it has a soothing effect.
> "Jay what
> was the name of the game that the teacher took from you last week?"
CROW: You mean Virtual Vanessa?
> "Shuttle Diasters, Why?" Jay replied.
TOM: Well, it's realistic. Whenever Starfleet uses a shuttlecraft, it
crashes.
> "Take the helm," Marrissa said. "I saw your high score, and i
> know you can land us safely.
MIKE: And of course, we all know that computer games are better than
training and actual experience.
CROW: By that logic, I can get a pilot's license if I play "Microsoft
Flight Simulator" a lot.
> Alexander from what I have over heard you
> decussing with Jay,
TOM: Boy, these kids swear a lot.
> I think you would make a good co-pliot for him. Now
> snap to it." Jay and Alex took off for the cockpit. "Shayna stop
> swearing, its unlady like. Try to revive Clara."
>
> In the cockpit, Jay and Alexander pushed the dead bodies aside
MIKE: <boyish voice> We eat tonight!
> and took the controls.
CROW: Hey! Where's the SHIFT key? I can't fire without the SHIFT key!
Where's the game manual...
> "Alex try to level us off," Jay ordered. "I'll
> try to steer us down safely."
TOM: <laughs> They're goners.
MIKE: Naw, this is a Ratliff story. Not only will they survive, but
they'll all be promoted to Commander.
> "Angle of decent, cut to 60 degrees," Alexander said. "6
> thousand meters."
CROW: <British> Note they do not so much fly as plummet.
> "Try to cut it to 30 by 3 thousand," Jay said as Marrissa and
> Shayna entered the the cockpit and removed Lt. Allen.
TOM: <Minnewegian voice> Ooh, he'll go so nice with the tomatoes I picked
in the garden today.
> "3 thousand meters, angle of decent 28 degrees," Alexander said.
> "Level us off at 15 hundred and begin looking for a landing
> site," Jay said. Marrissa and Shayna returned to the cockpit to remove
> Ensign Throwaway.
MIKE: You know, I'm gonna miss Ensign Throwaway. Such character
development.
> "Any suggestions for a landing site, Captain?"
TOM: How about the ground?
> "Some place with a water sorce and burnable vegation nearby,"
CROW: <Beavis> So we can burn stuff... heh heh... fire.. yeah...
> Marrissa said. "Shayna you take the feet this time." As they began
> moving the Ensign back into the cabin she continued. "By the way Jay,
> when did I become Captain to you?"
TOM: <singing> First time, ever I saw your face...
> "When you took cammand a few moments ago." Jay replied.
> "That makes me Captain?" Marrissa asked.
> "The commander of any vessel has the right to be called
> Captain," Jay replied. "Alex height and angle of decent?"
MIKE: About 4'3" and it depends on who I'm dancing with.
> "1613, 10 degrees," Alexander replied.
> "I will have to take command more often," Marrissa said.
CROW: <Marrissa> Hmmm... I *enjoy* dominating men...
> "Please land us as so as you find a spot. Its easier to spot an moving
> shuttle than a hunk of metal on a planet."
TOM: Of course, it's a lot easier to *hit* a hunk of metal...
> "Now changing coarse, bearing 256," Jay said. "I'm bringing us
> down."
MIKE: This whole fanfic is bringing us down.
>
> Moments later jay was bringing the shuttle down on a lake side
> beach.
CROW: So you say he's bringing down the shuttle?
> Although the landing was a little rough, Jay tore up 20 feet of
> beach,
TOM: Not bad, considering shuttles are about 30 feet long.
> the shuttle came though it with little additional damage.
MIKE: Except for Marissa, who went through the windshield.
> The cabin was quiet after the landing. The childern
CROW: Dern those childs!
> looked unharmed, if a little shaken. "Clara, hand me my tricorder,"
> Marrissa said.
TOM: Get it yourself, bossy.
> Clara handed Marrissa the instrument and Marrissa scanned though
> the wall of the shuttle. "The atmostphere is breathable in fact it's
> almost perfect outside.
MIKE: Well, of course! Did you expect *variety* on Star Trek?
> Open the door."
> Shayna hit the code and the rear of the shuttle opened up.
> Outside the sky was a clear blue. The beach was of yellow sand . Off
> the beach there a lot of purple leaved trees. In fact it was a regular
> forest of purple.
CROW: Yep. Purple trees would imply a purple forest, I guess.
> The ground cover was as thin bladed grass greenish
> blue in color. Beyond the clear blue lake were purple tree covered
> montains.
TOM: So Ratliff only has one gel for the lights, I take it?
> Clara and Shayna stood amiring the view.
MIKE: We could destroy all this and build condos!
> "I hate to interupt you, but we better get ready to move away
> from here," Marrissa said. "Unless you want to be captured. Jay find
> the Communicators and distrubute them. Alexand the phasers.
CROW: And our musical guest, Alex and the Phasers!
ALL: <crowd noises>
> Clara, I want 2 days meals for each of us in backpacks.
TOM: <Clara> But what if we're stranded here for more than two days?
CROW: <Marrissa> Shut up and do what I say!
MIKE: This was supposed to be a one-day field trip! What are 30 meals
doing in the shuttlecraft?
> Shayna ready all the booby trapping materail you can find.
CROW: Booby trapping material??
TOM: Standard Starfleet issue. There should be a clearly marked box.
> I want the shuttle tarp to annoy
> the guys who fired on us but with stuff we can remove without harming
> ourselves."
> "What will you be doing Captain?" Jay asked.
MIKE: Trying to figure out what the hell I just said!
> "Downloading all the information I can into a tricorder,"
> Marrissa replied.
CROW: There's a lot of stuff in the alt.binaries newsgroups that's a *lot*
more important than the other 3 weeks worth of food!
> "Why not a PADD?" Jay inquired.
> "Listen in class next time," Marrissa said. "Before he took
> your video game, Lt. Allen explained that PADDs only have 16 hours of
> use."
TOM: Then you have to get new AAA batteries.
> "What about Lt. Allen and the co-pilot?" Jay asked.
MIKE: They now have zero hours of use.
CROW: Yeah, grab their wallets and ditch 'em.
> "Put them in body bags and hide them in the woods," Marrissa
> said.
TOM: <Jay> What about a decent burial? And their wives and families?
CROW: <Marrissa> Screw em! I'm in charge now!!
> "That is you and Alexander's next job. Thank you for
> volenteering, Jay."
ALL: <trumpet noise> Wah wah waaahhh....
MIKE: Hope these kids have never seen "Alive."
>
> A half-a-hour later, the children gathered in front of the
> shuttle.
ALL: grumble grumble mutiny grumble...
> During thier perparations they discovered a stream in front of
> the shuttle.
TOM: My God, I just realized we're standing in a stream!
CROW: A stream of *what*, they weren't sure of.
> "In order to avoid capture we will be finding a new shelter,"
> Marrissa began. The detailed survey of this planet tells me that this
> stream's sours
MIKE: It's a lemonade stream! They landed in Willy Wonka's chocolate
factory!
> is a cave about a half a mile from here. We will shelter
> there.
TOM: And we'll have only life-signs, power sources, footprints,
and logic to give us away.
> The five children then picked up thier bags and headed upstream
> into the forest.
CROW: So, has anyone here read "Lord of the Flies"?
>
>
> Chapter Three
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> The Bridge on the Enterprise was quiet
MIKE: ...too quiet.
> when the call came in.
> Deep in Federation Space no one expected anything to happen.
TOM: ...except for the space/time anomalies that happen every week.
> In fact Doctor Crusher was in command
CROW: Apparently, all 1400 other crewmembers were on shore leave.
> while Riker and the Captain caught up on
> some paper work and Data was doing some research.
TOM: Paperwork?
MIKE: Must be tax time again.
> At Tactical a young ensign announced, "In coming distress call,
> audio only, Doctor."
> "Put it on speakers and trace it," Crusher ordered.
CROW: It's coming from inside the house!
> "This is the shuttle April from the USS Enterprise, we are under
> attack from an unknown vessel ..."
> "CONN
TOM: <Kirk> CONN!!!
> set a coarse to clear the asteroid belt and then go to
> Warp 9," Crusher ordered.
MIKE: <distress call> Wait... you, uh... you didn't let me finish...
> "Captain and Senior Staff to the bridge."
> Noticing that the tactical officer was standing shocked she asked,
CROW: "You forgot to unplug the toaster, didn't you?"
> "What's wrong, Ensign."
> "That's the field trip shuttle," the ensign said. "My daughter's
> on it."
TOM: <ensign> I've never been so happy in my life!
>
> On the planet which the shuttle had landed on, her daughter was
> doing just fine.
MIKE: ...except for the fact that she had crashed on an alien planet and
was being pursued by angry pirates.
> "What a beautiful day," Marrissa said.
CROW: <singing> Won't you be my neighbor.
> "If you like hiking though woods with heavy loads on your back,"
> Clara replied bitingly. "Why you have us carrying these rolls of foam
> and blankets is beyond me."
TOM: How they came to be in the shuttle is beyond *me*.
> "You will thank me for them tonight," Marrissa said. "Cave
> floors are hard."
> "How much farther?" Shayna asked.
> "Not much farther," Marrissa replied.
> "You are enjoying this, Marrissa, aren't you," Jay observed.
MIKE: You're on a huge ego-inflated power trip, aren't you.
> "My parents like to take camping trips when on leave," Marrissa
> said.
CROW: It distracts them from their pathetic lives.
> "I recommend Yellowstone and Yosemite on Earth for camping.
> Excellent views, hiking trails and camping sites."
TOM: Oh, Ratliff idolizes "Star Trek 5."
CROW: That would explain a lot.
> "You expect up to stay overnight?" Jay asked.
> "Yes, the Enterprise is a good couple hours away, minimum,"
> Marrissa replied. "It will be dark in an hour."
MIKE: And the nights only last 30 minutes on this planet.
> "How much farther?" Shayna asked.
> "Would 10 meters do?" Alexander, who had been leading the way
> said.
> Alexander was standing between two trees.
TOM: Amazing, considering he's in a forest and all.
> Past those trees a
> clearing opened up. A small stream meandered thought the blue-green
> turf from a large rock.
CROW: Apparently, you *can* get water from a stone!
> About 30 degrees from the stream's
> intersection with the rock a cave opened up to the air.
MIKE: Since when is a degree a unit of measurement?
> "Lets put our stuff in the cave and start trapping the
> clearing," Marrissa ordered.
TOM: What, you think it's going to leave?
> "Dinner will be at sunset."
CROW: Just order from room service.
>
> Meanwhile the alien vessel had launched a shuttle. It was all
> black with a rounded cylinder for a main body and bat-like wings.
MIKE: It's the Batwing! Figure sold separately, some assembly
required!
> Near the outer edge of the wings were yellow spikes which appeared to
> be it's means of moving. How it did so was a mystery.
TOM: Um... the yellow spikes, maybe?
>
> Back on the planet, descending shuttle's trail was seen in the
> sunset. The sunset was beautiful. The sun was red on the horizon
> sending red lines along the purple mountains tops. The sky was a
> beautiful shade of orange. Even the bright yellow path of the enemy
> shuttle harmonized with the scene.
CROW: Things are still pretty colorful, then.
> "Looks like we are about to have company," Alexander said
> finishing a trap.
MIKE: I'll get out the good china.
> "It's two early for the Enterprise to have arrived," Jay
> replied joining Alex. "Marrissa says dinner is ready."
> "Good, I'm starved," Alexander said as they retreated to the
> cave. "I just hope they don't attack during dinner."
TOM: During dinner, after dinner, makes no difference. You're just
as dead.
> "You really think that they can walk here in a half an hour, in
> the dark, though all the traps we left behind," Jay asked.
CROW: Well, yes. Unless they're totally incompetant.
> "No," Alexander said, "but we must be ready."
> "Marrissa has that taken care of," Jay replied.
MIKE: She's trained us into a elite fighting unit in just 20 minutes!
>
> Meanwhile the enemy shuttle was landing on the beach by the
> shuttle April. Making a joke as to the qualifications of the April's
> pilot, which had Jay heard and understood would have resulted in serious
> harm to the pilot,
TOM: Oh, they're *fragile* grizzled space pirates.
> the enemy pilot exited the front of the ship.
> he like the rest of his comrades was flat black in color about
> seven feet tall. All of the group had mustard yellow hair braided with
> ribbons.
CROW: Hey... they're all Ken from "Fugitive Alien"!
> They wore black body armor which accented their over muscled
> body.
MIKE: Hi, could you point us toward "The City Who Fought"?
> The ribbons in the pilots hair were black and green. Another
> alien's ribbons were black, red, and purple. The remaining three had
> black and gray ribbons.
TOM: Damn, things are really colorful in this story.
> The five fell out
CROW: Oh, they're Boojums.
> in a formation protecting the enemy with the
> black, red, and purple in a protected position.
MIKE: Blue 42! Set! Hike!
> They rounded of the April to it's open rear.
CROW: And now, a subliminal plug for safe sex.
> The black, red, and purple one motioned for a gray ribboned
> alien to enter the shuttle. As he entered a puff of red dust shot out
> at him.
TOM: V: The Final Battle.
> He began to sneeze. Soon , however the sneezing turned into
> a seizure and he fell to the ground twitching and died.
CROW: Ha ha! It's funny, cause it's... chemical warfare...
MIKE: It's a good thing all shuttlecraft carry chemical weapons.
TOM: You think they'll try Marrissa as an adult?
> The leader sent a seconded gray ribboned into the shuttle,
> vaporizing the first.
MIKE: Saves on funeral expenses, I guess.
> This one made it into the cockpit were a foul
> smelling mist descended on him. His black face began to lighten.
TOM: It's an airborne strain of Prozac.
> He left the shuttle and informed the leader that the shuttle was empty.
CROW: Except for the fluffy purple bunny-rabbits.
> Then the leader sent the pilot in. The pilot sat down in the
> CO-pilot seat
TOM: Ha! Those wacky aliens don't even know which seat to use! Ha ha!
> and tried to access the computer. The computer remained
> blank and the pilots hands began to itch.
MIKE: The sad effect of Macauley Culkin on a generation of kids.
CROW: Maybe he's having an allergic reaction to this story.
> Both the leader and the pilot being frustrated the y spied a
> path though the sand into the forest. The leader ordered his men (or
> maybe women)
TOM: Who knows? Your guess is as good as Ratliff's!
> into the forest. The third gray ribboned took the lead.
> The pilot was second and the leader third. The second gray ribboned was
> last, his face now a pale gray.
MIKE: This is like "Home Alone 2," only much more disturbing.
TOM: Come on guys, let's bail.
[Mike picks up Tom and they leave the theater.]
1...2...3...4...5...6...*...
[SOL. Crow and Tom are behind the counter. Crow's hair/net is
glowing bright red. There is a rope hanging from the ceiling that
ends just above the counter.]
TOM: Okay, is everything ready?
CROW: I think so. This is gonna be so great!
TOM: How's your hair? Is it hot enough?
CROW: Oh yeah, definitely!
TOM: <giggles> Oh boy! Sshhhh! Here he comes!
[Mike enters from off-screen. He walks behind the counter and
suddenly slips and falls. The bots start laughing. Mike
slowly gets back on his feet.]
MIKE: All right, now who put all those marbles on the floor?
TOM: <snort> Gee, I don't know! <stifled laugh>
CROW: Say, Mike... I was wondering if you could touch my hair?
MIKE: <confused> Well, all right...
[Mike grabs Crow's hair. A sizzling sound is heard, and smoke
comes from Mike hand. Mike yells, and the bots break into
laughter again.]
MIKE: Hey! That really hurt!
CROW: I guess you have the *hot hand*!
TOM&CROW: <renewed laughter>
MIKE: Stop laughing!
TOM: Hey Mike, would you mind pulling that rope there?
MIKE: Why?
TOM: Just pull it and find out!
[Mike pulls the rope. A large metal girder swings down from another
rope and hits Mike smack in the face. The bots laugh harder than
than they ever have in their whole lives.]
MIKE: <holding his nose> I tink my dose is broken!
TOM&CROW: <keep laughing>
MIKE: Oh god, I'm in so much pain!
TOM&CROW: <laugh, laugh, laugh>
MIKE: I need to get the first aid kit...
[Mike walks off-screen.]
CROW: Hey, Mike, just don't open the medicine cabinet!
[A creak is heard as Mike opens the medicine cabinet. Then several
rounds of loud gunfire are heard, as if from a machine gun. Tom and
Crow laugh again. Gypsy enters.]
GYPSY: What is going on in here? I heard a gun!
CROW: Oh Gypsy, you missed all the fun!
GYPSY: What have you done to Mike?
TOM: Just a few harmless pranks!
CROW: Yeah, it's all in good fun!
GYPSY: Oh my god, you might have killed him! *Then* where would
you be?
[Tom and Crow turn back to the camera. They put their hands on
the sides of their faces, Macauley Culkin-style.]
TOM&CROW: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
[Sirens and buzzers go off.]
ALL: FANFIC SIGN!!
6...5...4...3...2...1...*...
[Mike, Crow and Tom enter the theater.]
TOM: No hard feelings, Mike? We were just having a little fun.
MIKE: Yeah, well, it's a good thing I heal fast. And next time,
don't imitate everything you see on TV, okay?
>
> Chapter Four
>
> Captain's Log
> Supplemental
> Due to the fact that we were deep in the dense asteroid belt of the
> Alberry system it will take us an hour and a half more to clear the system
> and go to warp.
CROW: Don't ask me how the hell we got here.
> From that time it will take another 4 hours to get to the
> system which the shuttle's distress call came from. I fear we may arrive
> too late.
MIKE: In which case, all we can say is, "Oops."
>
> Mean while on the planet, Marrissa and the other children were
> watching, via the sensors from a half dozen medical tricorders, the
> enemy soldiers attempts to follow their trail.
TOM: Hey, their cave gets cable!
> So far they had hit
> two dozen trip wires (made of vines).
CROW: Those kooky Trakce, they walk into everything!
> This caused both gray ribboned
> men to be hung by their legs an average of four times
MIKE: ...taking into account standard deviation and allowing for error.
> and all of them
> had received a mushy biolumncant red fruit in their face, chest, or
> back at least four times.
ALL: <weak laughter>
> At this time the enemy decided to stop for the night. They
> pitched some tents and cut down some limbs to start a fire.
TOM: Luckily, the aliens had plenty of flammable arms and legs.
> Back in the cave Marrissa asked Jay, "That's near communicator
> number three, isn't it?"
> "Petty close, number two should also be within range," Jay
> replied.
> "Clara, would you get your flute?" Marrissa said.
ALL: NNOOOOOOO!!!!
CROW: Oh god, please say this isn't happening!
MIKE: Jeez, they brought everything on this field trip but a gaudy
delphine water toy.
> "I think
> a little lullaby would do our friends some good. Open a channel to
> communicator number three and play some music until you get them to
> react, every hour, on the hour."
TOM: I'm just glad you can't hear music through text files.
>
> Back in the enemy camp, the enemy began to hear strains of
> such tunes such as 'The Yellow Rose of Texas", "When the Saints Go
> Marching In", and March of the Tin Soldiers." However when Clara
> began playing "Joy to the World" they began to look quite scared.
CROW: If she plays as well as she acts, I can't say I blame them.
MIKE: Didn't it ever occur to them to just follow the music and shoot
the communicator?
> As Clara switched to "March Slav" they began to pray to what ever
> god or gods they believed in.
TOM: Oh please, whatever-deity-we-believe-in, give us Lawrence Welk!
> After a half-a-hour Marrissa closed the channel. "Let them
> worry about that for a while," Marrissa said, putting here hand to
> her head.
> "What's wrong Marrissa?" Clara asked, concerned.
CROW: <Marrissa> I just can't take any more of your flute-playing.
> "I'm getting a splitting headache," Marrissa said. "Too
> much stress, I guess."
TOM: <Marrissa> I'm burning out at age 10!
MIKE: See what happens when you're promoted to Admiral before you
graduate elementary school?
> "I think you need some rest," Clara said. "Go to bed, Jay,
> Alex, and Shayna are alternating watches 'till dawn. I'll make sure
> the enemy can't sleep, but you better. We can't have a tried and
> sick leader, tomorrow."
> "OK, Clara, I'll get some rest," Marrissa said. She picked
> up her bed roll and spread out the foam pad and blank. Crawling
> between them she continued, "Play your flute once in awhile to
> our enemy. I want them tried and scared tomorrow morning."
TOM: That way, they'll be certain to kill us and not take us prisoner.
>
> Though out the night at the beginning and midpoint of each
> watch Clara blessed the enemy soldiers with her beautiful rendition
> of "March Slav." However, the enemy didn't appreciate the piece.
> They became more and more scared.
CROW: Game over, man! It's a bug hunt!
> In addition during Shayna's
> watch she provided a constant version of the "Battle Hymn of the
> Republic" on her harmonica.
MIKE: Yowch. *Anything* sounds awful when played on a harmonica.
TOM: I can't watch anymore. It's too horrible!
>
> By midnight the Enterprise was almost in the system which
> the children were in. However Data announced, "Class 3 singularity
> ahead."
CROW: It's a quantum singularity emitting graviton pulses! It's
disrupting our lateral phase inducers!
MIKE: Crow, you do that *too* well.
> "Helm go to Impluse," Picard ordered. "Plot a coarse around
> the singularity, full impluse. When we are on the other side and
> 2000 kilometers away, return to warp."
CROW: Wouldn't it be faster to warp around the singularity?
> "This is going to delay our arrival," Commander Riker said.
MIKE: Of course it is! That's why Ratliff put it there!
TOM: <Riker> Damn these plot devices!
> "It can't be helped," Picard said. "I just wished we weren't
> the only ship in the sector."
CROW: You should be used to it by now. The Enterprise is *always*
the only ship in the sector.
>
> Just before dawn Marrissa woke up. After consuming a couple
> of ancient Earth delicacies known as strawberry poptarts, she woke up
> the others.
TOM: Ewww! Strawberry Pop-Tarts? Now she's dead for sure!
MIKE: Mankind has ridden themselves of poverty and crime, but they can't
seem to escape Pop-Tarts.
> As they ate their breakfast, Marrissa consulted the
> hidden sensors from the medical tricorders.
> The enemy soldiers were beginning to move toward the cave
> again, so Marrissa began to quietly hand out the phasers.
CROW: If they find us, just shoot yourselves with these. It'll be less
painful.
> "Their moving?" Jay asked.
> Marrissa nodded.
> "How far?" Alexander asked.
TOM: Just out to the suburbs.
> "Scanner Five," Marrissa replied. "Alex and Jay, leftside
> of the entrance, us girls will be on the right."
MIKE: Good, I don't want to be with those cootie-covered girls.
> "As usual, the girls are always right," Jay commented.
> "And don't you forget it," Clara returned.
> Then the four enemies appeared on the edge of the clearing.
> First to enter was the pale-faced gray ribboned followed by his
> dark-faced fellow gray ribboned. Next was the pilot who was having
> trouble holding his weapon.
ALL: <clear throats>
> Finally the leader entered. Spying the children, ordered his men to
> open fire.
CROW: This is for that crappy music!!!
> They narrowly missed. Marrissa and the other children
> returned fire. They stunned the dark-faced gray ribboned. The
> pale-faced one collapsed without a shot hitting him.
MIKE: So, I'll just go ahead and die, then? Okay...
TOM: This is like ST:TNG meets "Village of the Damned."
> The pilot
> was having so much trouble holding on to his weapon that he couldn't
> hit the broadside of a barn.
CROW: That guy will never use the toilet at *my* house.
> Seeing his men down and his pilot's lack of accuracy, the
> leader adjusted his weapon's setting and fired at the gray ribbons
> and vaporized them.
MIKE: Heh heh, no bodies, no juvenile court.
> Ordering a retreat, he readjusted his weapon
> and fled into the forest, the pilot following.
TOM: Run away! Run away!
> After the aliens had left the clearing Marrissa spoke up,
> "Now that we have them on the run, lets keep them that way."
CROW: <Marrissa> Let's toy with them before we finish them off.
MIKE: Boy, that Marrissa has a mean streak.
> "That sounds like a good idea," Alexander said.
> "Jay, Clara, take the left side of the path," Marrissa ordered.
> "Alex, Shayna, the right. Get ahead, take a pot shot and run."
TOM: We have some pot here? Wooo!
> "Where did you get that idea?" Jay asked. "It sounds familiar."
> "Earth History, American Revolution, Battle of Lexington and
> Concord," Marrissa replied.
MIKE: <singing> We're the old soldiers of Trakce, and the King's own
regulars...
> "Now get going. As soon as they take off
> we will meet back here, get our stuff and return to the shuttle."
CROW: The grey ribbons are coming! The grey ribbons are coming!
>
> The enemy commander's week was getting worse and worse. First
> he couldn't capture an unarmed shuttle. Then he lost a man checking out
> the empty shuttle.
TOM: Then his hard drive crashed.
MIKE: And his girlfriend left him.
CROW: And then there was the whole embarassing "poppyseed cake" incident.
> Finally he lost two more men from what appeared to
> be the young of the speice controlling the shuttle. He didn't know what
> else could go wrong.
MIKE: Hohoho, that's our Kooky!
> He found out when a phaser beam shot past his nose. Off in the
> bushes someone ran off and the enemy commander's shot missed.
CROW: <Nam vet> Charlie was close... I could smell him...
> So much
> for capturing a young member of the speices to use to control their
> next conquered nation, namely the Federation.
TOM: Oh, that sounds reasonable.... huh?!
CROW: So if they capture Marrissa, the entire Federation would fall?
MIKE: Well, after all, she *is* the Commander of Starfleet.
>
> Chapter Five
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~
> On the planet, the enemy shuttle was having a great deal of
> trouble taking off.
TOM: It was that damned anchor.
> Not only were the pilot's hands becoming useless
> rapidly, but occasional pot-shots from the forest were damaging the
> shuttle.
CROW: Let's watch Kooky try to escape from five bloodthirsty kids. Will
he make it? Don't bet on it!
> The Commander pushed the pilot aside and took over the controls
> himself. The shuttle then left as quickly as it could, leaving the
> children to begin reactivating the shuttle for their return to the
> Enterprise.
TOM: But I thought they crashed 'cause the shuttle was damaged and
couldn't go and... and...
MIKE: <hugging Tom> There, there. It's okay. <Tom starts crying>
>
> Meanwhile, the Enterprise was entering the system. "Captain, I
> am detecting a medium-sized vessel orbiting the fifth planet," Worf
> said.
> "Mr Data analyst," Captain Picard ordered.
CROW: <Jerry Lewis> Ohhhhh, Mr Data Analyst Person, sir...
> "The vessel matches the configuration of the attacking vessel
> from the April's distress call,' Data replied.
TOM: Gee, do you think it could be the vessel?
> "Captain, a shuttle is leaving the planet," Worf injected,
> "highly agitated.
MIKE: It flew through a washing machine.
> It is not ours."
> "Scan for life signs," Picard ordered.
> "Two life signs of unknown type," Data responded.
> "Hail the larger ship," Picard said.
> "Hailing Frequencies Open," Worf replied.
> "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship
> Enterprise, Please respond."
> "Message coming in text only," Worf said.
CROW: We'll have to use the ship's word processors.
> "Please stand by, Commanding Officer currently not available."
TOM: All our operators are busy. Please hold. Your call is
important to us.
> "It appears that we are on hold, Mr Worf," the Captain said
> amused.
MIKE: You can tell by the Yanni.
> "Are we with in scaling range of the fifth planet?"
CROW: This is no time for rock climbing!
> "Yes, Captain," Data informed.
> "Scan and identify life signs."
> "Five life signs, four human, one Klingon inside the shuttle,"
> Data said.
TOM: Oh, and a shuttle.
> "Hail the shuttle," Picard ordered.
> "Shuttle responding," Worf replied.
> "On Screen."
> A blond haired girl appeared on the Main veiwscreen.
ALL: YAH!
> Behind her
> a long black haired girl and a short brown haired girl were working on
> the shuttle.
MIKE: It's nice that they aren't bald, but what color is their hair?
> "Shuttle April, Marrissa Flores speaking. How may I help you?"
CROW: <Picard> I'll have 2 cheeseburgers and an order of fries. What
do you want, Will?
> "Where is Lieutenant Allen and Ensign Throwaway?" Picard
> inquired.
TOM: Killed by a nasty plot contrivance.
> "Dead, I am the oldest surviving member of the passengers, all of
> witch survived." Marrissa said, somewhat sadly.
ALL: Burn her! Burn her! Build a bridge out of her!
> "Clara and Shayna believe the shuttle is spaceworthly."
MIKE: Of course, they also believe in the Easter Bunny.
> "Did you encounter the occupants of the unidentified ship?"
> Picard asked.
> "Yes, we scared them out of their wits," Marrissa smiled.
CROW: She's well on her way to being the next Jeffrey Dahmer.
> "Transmitting data now. I thing that they will not allow themselves to
> be examined. We stunned one and another collapsed, both of them were
> vaporized by a third."
> "Entering standard orbit, Captain," the ensign at the helm said.
TOM: <as ensign> Oh, wow! I got a line on Star Trek! I'm a big star now!
This'll show my dad!
> "Captain, Clara informs me that we can take off at any time
> now," Marrissa said.
> "Belay that, Transporter Room beam them directly to the Bridge,"
> the Captain ordered.
MIKE: I want to ground them personally!
> "Unable to comply, Captain, Transporters are blocked in system,"
> the transporter room replied.
CROW: <as Picard> Number One, remind me later to find out when our
transporter room became sentient.
> "Then Marrissa, hold launch until we can do something about
> this ship," Picard said.
TOM: No, I said 'launch,' not 'lunch'!
> "Aye, sir. April out," Marrissa replied.
MIKE: ...like a lamb.
> As the veiwscreen returned to the view of the planet and the
> other ship, Worf said," The unknown ship is finally responding to our
> hails."
> "On screen," Picard ordered.
> The black-faced alien with his yellow hair drawn back with black,
> red, and purple ribbons appeared in a plain white featureless room.
TOM&CROW: <begin singing the Limboland theme>
MIKE: Please stop that.
> The
> Alien spoke up, "I am Ath Russen of th Graphpol. You are invading the
> Trakcen Empire. Leave at once."
CROW: I know it seems like an intrusion, but we call it "tea time."
> "You might what to check your star charts," Captain Picard
> began. "For 25 parsecs around this planet in all directions there is
> nothing but Federation planets and starbases. And I for one have not
> never heard of the Trakcen Empire."
TOM: <Picard> So, nyah.
> "Then you are misinformed," the Ath replied.
MIKE: No editorial commenth, pleath.
> "Mr. Data please confirm the existence of the planets I
> indicated," Picard ordered. "Request population and current Head of
> State to update our records on unsecured channels. And I know you have
> no calm on this planet,
TOM: Diarrhea is like a storm raging in your planet...
> Especially since the only people on it are my shuttle crew."
CROW: And we plan on leaving them there.
> "Captain, the exsistance of all 145 Federation bases and
> colonies have been confirmed," Data said.
MIKE: However, they have all been taken over by the Trakce.
> "My information has been confirmed, has yours?" Picard asked.
> The enemy commander closed the channel.
TOM: <Han Solo> Boring conversation, anyway.
> Then Worf spoke up, "The Trakcen ship is powering it's weapons
> and has raised shields."
> "RED ALERT, raise shields, ready phasers, and photon torpedoes,"
> Riker commanded.
CROW: <Riker> I'll be under my bed.
> "Analyst of Trakcen ship, Data," Picard asked.
> "The power levels are comparable to early Constitution class
> vessels," Data replied. "However it could be more manuvorable."
> "The enemy is firing," Worf said. "Hit on our port shield, no
> damage, shields still at 100 percent."
TOM: Ach, ya, they are little girlie aliens.
MIKE: It's a good thing they had those cheat codes for God Mode!
> "CONN Move us between them and planet," Picard directed.
CROW: Mr. B Natural ought to hold them off for a while.
> "Mr Worf take out their shields, only."
> Phaser beams shot out from the Enterprise toward the Graphpol.
> Its shields flared red and then collapsed. The Trakcen ship turned and
> fled.
TOM: Mommeeeee...
MIKE: Something tells me the Tracken miscalculated their invasion
strategy.
> "CONN, follow them out of the system and then return to the
> planet," Picard commanded. "Once they go to warp tell the April to take
> off to join us.
CROW: Um... shouldn't you get an *experienced* pilot to the surface first?
>
> After the Trakcen ship had left, the Enterprise returned to the
> planet and the waiting shuttle. Hailing the waiting shuttle, Captain
> Picard said, "This is Captain Picard, can you bring the shuttle into the
> main shuttle bay or do you require a tractor beam."
TOM: Heh heh. *This* oughtta be good.
> "Jay says he and Alexander can bring us in," Marrissa said.
MIKE: They've been dropping acid since lunch. They're pretty sure they
can lift the shuttle over their heads, too.
> "Once you are on board, we will beam you directly to the
> quarantine unit in Sickbay per regulations," Picard said. "After you are
> cleared
CROW: ...which I hope to delay indefinitely...
> I'd like you to prepare a report on your experances on the
> planet and your opinion on the race which calls themselves the Trakce for
> tomorrows staff meeting."
TOM: Remember, you will be graded on delivery as well as content.
> "I'll be ready, April out."
>
> Later that day, the Doctor arrived on the bridge. "How are our
> young adventures?" Troi asked.
MIKE: <Crusher> I told you never to mention our... "adventures"... in
public!
> "No worse for the wear," Crusher responded. "Other than a
> couple bruises the only problem was Marrissa.
CROW: The other kids really beat the crap out of her.
> Be ready for an appointment with her. I treated her for P.M.S."
ALL: <groan>
TOM: That's more information than I needed, thanks.
MIKE: Suddenly it's "My So-Called Life."
> "Thanks for the warning, I'll rearrange my schedule."
CROW: Oh, like Troi can preach on this subject.
TOM: <Troi> Drown your troubles in chocolate, Marrissa.
>
>
> _________________________________________________________
> | STAR TREK || _______________ |
> | THE NEXT GENERATION || .--' | |_-_| `-. `-. |
> | Away From Home: Book 1 || ,'-------' [___] 07 | \ |
> | The Field Trip || /____PART___________/___ ||
> | || \_________________|_/__/ |
> | by Stephen Ratliff || (_||>______________) |
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
MIKE: Say what you will about Ratliff, but he's a real ASCII artist!
> Chapter Six
> ~~~~~~~~~~~
> After being released from Sick bay Marrissa
CROW: ...was transferred to Ward E.
> went to see Clara.
> When she entered Clara's room the younger girl was studying how the
> Enterprise's warp engines worked.
TOM: <Clara> Oh, it's some neon lights behind opaque plastic.
> "And you accused me of being a book worm," Marrissa kidded
> lightheartedly.
MIKE: No, I just called you a worm.
> "I just got a little curious," Clara replied taking a sip of
> milk. "This is fascinating."
> "Can you tear yourself away from that to help me with my report
> to the senior staff tomorrow?" Marrissa asked.
CROW: I need you to check the grammar.
> "If you will join Jay, Shayna, Alexander, and myself on Holodeck
> Two tomorrow at 14 hundred hours," Clara responded.
> "Why?"
> "We had a discussion on our way home from sick bay. We decided
> that we who like to try crewing the bridge and other parts of the
> Enterprise.
TOM: ...shouldn't have to finish our sentences.
> Since the Captain doesn't allow kids on the bridge this is
> the next best thing."
MIKE: The Captain should remember that rule more often.
> "I'll be there. Now about my report ..."
CROW: ...it stinks!
>
> The next day Marrissa arrived at the observation lounge early.
> Being the first to arrive she began pacing, back and forth in front of
> the windows.
TOM: This ain't Amsterdam, honey.
> Counselor Troi was the next person to arrive. Sensing
> Marrissa's nervousness she set out to calm Marrissa down, and if
> possible remove her fear. "Nervous," she asked.
MIKE: ...in a reassuring monotone.
> Marrissa nodded.
> "I'm sure you will do fine," Troi said. "Worf doesn't bite
CROW: ...except when he's excited.
TOM: And he *is* housebroken now.
> and I think the Captain likes you."
MIKE: That has whole other connotations that I won't get into.
> "That's not what I'm worried about," Marrissa said.
> "What then?"
> "I'm not good at oral presentations. I calm up.
CROW: <Marrissa> My hands get all dry, and I stop shaking...
> I can never
> answer questions no matter how well I prepare. I usually get C's."
> "A C is not bad."
TOM: Heh! Now we know what grades Ratliff gets over at Radford U.
> "It is when you are a strait A student. May be you should talk
> to my Dad."
> "Perhaps I will," Troi said.
MIKE: <Troi> Is he single?
> "Meanwhile you might want to think
> of the command staff's uniforms as pajamas. It worked for me."
CROW: Especially with Will.... mmm...
> "They do look like that," Marrissa laughed and Troi joined in.
TOM: Uncomfortable, constricting pajamas that decrease your chances of
having children, maybe.
>
> When the whole staff had arrived, the Captain introduced
> Marrissa and asked her to present her report.
MIKE: <Picard> Remember - with feeling!
> She began nervously but
> soon gained confidence. First she outlined the circumstances of her
> encounter. Then she told of her preparations. Thirdly she gave her
> analyst of the Trakce.
CROW: Then she examined the fiscal outlook for the next quarter.
> Finally she asked for questions.
ALL: <raise hands> Ooh! Me! Me!
TOM: Why do you keep saying "analyst" when you mean "analysis"?
> "Is it possible that the Trakce wanted to help you?" the Doctor
> asked. "They could have been a medical team."
> "I doubt it doctor," Marrissa replied.
MIKE: <Marrissa> You are *so* naive.
> "You don't beam down on
> a mission of mercy after shooting down an unarmed shuttle which was
> doing nothing to you."
CROW: If Marrissa's on it, that's all the reason *I* need.
TOM: Um... and they didn't beam down, anyway. They flew down in a
shuttle.
> "I agree," Worf said.
MIKE: <Worf> There. I've said my line. Now I can get back to my
needlepoint.
> "The chances of the Trakce shuttle doing having no hostile
> intentions to you were 5 billion to 1," Data responded.
CROW: Our chances of enjoying this fanfic are even smaller.
> "You said that you don't believe they allow themselves to be
> captured," Riker asked. "What makes you think that?"
> "I believe that because every time a Trakce fell unconscience the
> leader vaporized him," Marrissa replied.
TOM: Maybe they're just into euthanasia.
> "Makes sense to me," La Forge responded.
MIKE: Ah, the blonde leading the blind.
>
> Soon afterward, the meeting ended. Before Commander Riker
> could leave, Marrissa called out," Commander Riker."
TOM: <Riker> Damn!
> "Yes, Marrissa," Riker responded.
> "I was wondering if you would be willing to evaluate some
> Kobayashi Marus tomorrow?" Marrissa asked.
CROW: <Riker> Sorry, I... uh... have to wash my hair.
> "Testing yourself for command potential," Riker guessed.
> "Yes, myself and some others," Marrissa replied.
MIKE: Riker immediately began planning to disguise one of the
airlocks as a holodeck.
> "You can't start with a harder test," Riker said. "I would be
> glad to, but I can only do one a day."
TOM: <Marrissa> Yes, the Counselor told me.
> "That's fine with me," Marrissa said.
>
> Later in Holodeck 2, Marrissa was in command of the Enterprise-D
> doing the Kobayashi Maru. "CONN hard to starboard, Alex fire phasers and
> photon torpedoes," Marrissa ordered.
> "Firing phasers, the warbird's shields are down to 95 %,"
> Alexander said.
CROW: This is like "Ender's Game", except it's not good.
> "Jay find that shield frequency," Marrissa said as a round hit
> her ship.
MIKE: A ground round?
> "Shields at 75 %," Alexander said.
> "CONN evasive pattern Zeta Four," Marrissa ordered. "Increase
> speed to full impulse. Head away from them."
> The Warbird followed the retreating Galaxy Class vessel closely.
> "Stupid move," Marrissa muttered.
TOM: Yeah, what were you thinking, trying not to get shot at?
> "Alex the locks on the forward
> phasers and photon torpedoes directly ahead. Fire rear phasers and
> photon torpedoes. CONN on my mark take us down 80 meters and goto full
> stop."
> The Enterprise spat out torpedoes
ALL: <hawk> <ptooi>!
> blinding the Romulan warbird
> and draining it's shields. "Now CONN," Marrissa ordered.
CROW: Wanna buy a Rolex, cheap?
> The Romulan warbird shot over the Enterprise and in front of the ship.
MIKE: Gee, I'm sure the Romulans never saw *that* trick before.
> "Fire at will Alex."
TOM: Everybody?
ALL: So Alex shot Riker.
> The Romulan's shields collapsed. "Destroy them, Alex.
TOM: Let's extinguish what we don't understand.
> CONN coarse 180 degrees mark 4 relative heading," Marrissa ordered.
> "Three warbirds decloaking," Alexander announced.
CROW: Well, tell them this show's PG and to get the hell out.
>
>
>
MIKE: Uh huh...
> From: srat...@ruacad.ac.runet.edu (Stephen Ratliff)
> Date: Tue, 4 Apr 1995 15:57:58 GMT
> Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
> Subject: REPOST Away From Home part 8 the First Interlude
TOM: So the first part of the story just ENDS there, does it?
MIKE: I guess it saves us from actually reading a Ratliff ending.
>
>
> Away From Home part 8//
> ///////////////////////
> Interlude
> ~~~~~~~~~
CROW: Oh good, I could do with some soothing music.
> The kid's crew gradually matured,
TOM: Some more than this author.
> some members came and went,
[Mike forcibly shuts Crow's mouth]
> but eventually every child over the age of five (and some under) was a
> member.
MIKE: The Kids' Crew Happy Meal became AstroBurger's most popular item.
> Marrissa obtained and held her position as Kid's Crew Captain
> despite many members being older than her
CROW: She became known as Marrissa the Xenocide.
> The Kid's Crew remained a recreational club until one day
> someone suggested that it could solve a personal problem the
> Enterprized had.
TOM: Mainly, that it was badly written.
> This lead to the adventures told in Enterprized and A Gul's Revenge.
CROW: Seen it. Hated it.
> Marrissa's parents having died in Enterprized,
MIKE: She was able to put her plan for galactic domination into
full swing.
> Captain Picard adopted Marrissa at the end of A Gul's Revenge.
TOM: He has regretted it ever since.
> Captain Picard then
> took Marrissa home to France to meet her new relatives.
MIKE: And "accidentally" fall from the top of the Eiffel Tower.
> On their way
> back they were diverted to the Maine to oversee a Cadet Cruise. This
> cruise lead to Marrissa receiving a full commission of Ensign from
> Starfleet Command.
TOM: I'm glad I haven't had to see that yet.
> About six months later, Q paid a visit to the Enterprise leaving
> Marrissa in command of a diplomatic mission.
CROW: <Q voice> I'm going to finish off your crew in the goofiest way
possible, Jean-Luc.
> The events told in Who Q?
> Where Q? lead to Marrissa's promotion to Lieutenant junior grade.
MIKE: I hope Forrester doesn't know about these...
> The events of three years earlier and the Trakce were filed away
> with the lack of further encounters.
TOM: And lack of further interest.
> Marrissa, however, worked on her
> Trakce Report every once in a while, making it more concise and better
> formated.
CROW: Until it was finally reduced to "Mostly harmless."
>
> The Trakce, however had not forgotten the incident at the planet
> witch the Federation had named DOAllen for the deceased teacher.
MIKE: Dead On Arrival? That's a joke, right?
> They continued to plant their invasion of the Federation.
TOM: Eventually, the invasion bloomed and sprouted pretty flowers.
> A month after
> Marrissa mediated the Naklab dispute over Sobnia, they decided to act.
CROW: Alert! Alert! Cheezy backwards names!
> Having failed to capture a child with their scout vessel, they decided
> to obtain several by attacking a remote Federation Planet ...
>
MIKE: A remote ice world called Hoth.
>
> From: srat...@ruacad.ac.runet.edu (Stephen Ratliff)
> Date: Tue, 4 Apr 1995 17:19:23 GMT
> Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
> Subject: Away From Home Message
CROW: Hey, I got a message for you right here...
MIKE: Easy, Crow.
>
> Message from the Author of Away From Home :
> Some of you were a little confused with my sudden jump to part
> 11 from part 8.
TOM: Others are confused by my poor writing, characterization, and plot.
> I have recitifyed that problem. Part 11 is now part 9.
> Part 11 will end up being part 3 of The Away mission and part 10 is part
> 2 of the Away Mission.
CROW: Okay, so part 11 is now part 10 of the second part of the story...
TOM: No, the tenth part of the second story has been changed to part 9...
MIKE: Wait, I think that's four score and seven parts ago...
CROW: So who IS playing first base?
TOM: I don't know!
ALL: THIRD BASE!
> What? this is even more confusing.
MIKE: And Ratliff shows a glimmer of rational thought!
> When then
> think of Away from Home as a trilogy bound togeter in one volume.
CROW: ...with duct tape and epoxy resins. On all four sides!
> I hope this clears this up a little.
TOM: Since I Oxycuted it.
> For those of you who want to read my other stories (Enterprized,
> A Gul's Revenge, Cadet Cruise, and Who Q? Where Q?)
MIKE: ...I would recommend immediate psychological treatment.
> they are now on my home page at http://www.cs.runet.edu/~sratliff
ALL: AAUGH!
CROW: How did Ratliff get a Web page, and who let him do it??
> Just click on the appropreate picture and you will go directly to
TOM: ...the dark depths of Hades,
> the story. There is
> also a link to the alt.startrek.creative archive www site in the FAQ
> Status of Stories recently posted which is in my homepage. Away from
> Home will be joining the other stories on my Home page soon.
CROW: So it'll be my Away From Home page, get it? <laughs weakly,
then sobs> Oh God, it hurts...
MIKE: That's a murderer's row of writing if I ever saw one.
>
>
>
> ______ Stephen Ratliff
> _-' . .`-_
> |/ / .. . ' .\ \| Radford Unversity Student
> |/ / ..\ \| (Sophmore)
TOM: Yeah, his writing is pretty sophomoric.
MIKE: You've been waiting for that joke since Ratliff was a freshman!
> \|/ |: . ._|_ .. . | \|/ email:
> \/ | _|_ .| . .: | \/ srat...@rucs2.sunlab.cs.runet.edu
> \ / |. | . . .| \ / (perfered) or
> \||| . . . _|_ .|||/ srat...@ruacad.ac.runet.edu
> \__| \ . :. .|. ./ |__/
> __| \_ . .. _/ |__ home address:
> __| `-______-' |__ 5249 Lakeland Drive
> -,____ ____,- Roanoke, Va 24018
> ---' `---
>
>
>
CROW: Yeah, I gotta admit, that's pretty good artwork...
TOM: Let's get outta here...
[They leave the theater.]
1...2...3...4...5...6...*...
[SOL. Mike and Tom enter.]
MIKE: So did Crow tell you what he wanted to talk about?
TOM: No, he just said to meet him here.
[Suddenly the lights darken. In the dim light, you can vaguely see
the outline of Crow. He is smoking a cigarette.]
CROW: <raspy voice> I'm taking a chance in talking to you here.
TOM: Crow, what are you talking about?
CROW: Don't call me that! It's too dangerous! Call me... Deep Shi--
MIKE: <interrupting> Oh, come off it, Crow.
[The lights come back up. Crow walks over to Mike and Tom.]
CROW: Okay, fine. But if you get killed, I'll disavow any knowledge
of your existance.
MIKE: Would you just get on with it?
CROW: <pause> Mike, Tom, I've uncovered something. A conspiracy more
insidious than Watergate, the JFK assassination, and yes, even
the Van Patten Project. I am talking about... The Ed Wood-Stephen
Ratliff Conspiracy!
[Dramatic chord. A pause.]
TOM: Huh?
CROW: We were lead to believe that Edward D. Wood, Jr., actually died
in 1978.
TOM: Right.
CROW: But few people know that his death was actually faked! See, Ed was
caught up in some trouble with the mob, and...
MIKE: Um, Crow...
CROW: Anyway, he went into the FBI Witness Protection program and
changed his name to... Stephen Ratliff! Trying to start a
new life, he enrolled in Radford University two years ago
and began writing cheezy Star Trek fanfics!
MIKE: Crow, this is nice and everything, but do you have any proof?
CROW: Proof? PROOF?? I got proof coming out the wazoo!
TOM: Wazoo?
CROW: Exhibit A: Wood and Ratliff are both completely untalented
hacks.
MIKE: Well, true, but...
CROW: Exhibit B: Despite this complete lack of talent, they both
continue to churn out work at an alarming rate.
TOM: Say, you may be on to something here...
CROW: Exhibit C: They both attack their work with an enthusiasm
that seems to belie this lack of discernible talent.
MIKE: Wow, it's all coming together! What else do you have?
CROW: Exhibit D: Stephen Ratliff enjoys wearing women's clothing!
MIKE: Wait a second, Crow...
CROW: Exhibit E: Ratliff was once married to Dolores Fuller!
TOM: Crow...
CROW: Exhibit F: Ed Wood was an avid Trekkie, even going to the
early conventions!
[Mike and Tom both sigh and walk away from Crow, who continues
to babble on about his "exhibits."]
MIKE: You know, it's a real shame when the facts get in the way
of a good conspiracy.
[Sirens and buzzers go off.]
MIKE: AAAHHHH!!! WE GOT FANFIC SIGN!
T O B E C O N T I N U E D
To contact the authors, send an e-mail to bark...@ucsu.colorado.edu.
I will forward all mail regarding this fanfic to the other writers,
Petrea Mitchell and Todd Gilbert.
Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its characters and situations are
copyright of Best Brains, Inc. This is a work of fanfiction and
is not meant to infringe on that copyright. Likewise, Star Trek
in all of its many forms is a bloated franchise copyrighted to
Paramount. This MiSTing is *not* a personal attack on Stephen
Ratliff, however much he hay deserve it. It is meant in fun and
games and shouldn't be taken seriously.
> The biggest event in my life was being trapped in the turbolift
> with Captain Picard. This earned me the nickname "Number One."