Lieutenant JG Meris: The Previous Episode
Meris/Brian
(( Living-room, Bug-Catcher House, USPS Showrunner ))
Ral's song had started as a joke, or at least that was what the show seemed to think. Yet somewhere between the references to the Tangle, the missing Captain, and the crew of the Thor, it had become something more. For a brief moment, reality had slipped through the cracks of the script. Meris had felt it happen inside themself as forgotten memories surged back into focus and the name of their ship ceased to be a fragment of a dream and became a certainty once again.
What followed should have been ridiculous. A love song dedicated to THK, performed through Tamarian throat-singing and punctuated by a single triumphant strike of a triangle, somehow brought an entire audience to its feet. The applause felt genuine, which was perhaps the strangest part. Beyond the camera drones sat real people, real viewers, cheering for a performance that had emerged from equal parts sincerity, confusion, and resistance. Now gone once again, having vanished just as easily as they'd appeared.
oO Perhaps we only get a live audience for our musical numbers. Oo
For all their talk of ratings and relatability, B345T had seemed just as surprised as anyone that the music worked. Beneath the manufactured drama and carefully constructed conflicts, Meris had caught a glimpse of something unexpected. The Director was not merely controlling the story. They were reacting to it too. And as the curtain fell and the set disappeared behind the promise of a commercial break, Meris found themself wondering whether anyone truly had complete control over what happened next.
Naledi: Chirp Snap Crick... Is it the end of the first act?
Ral: Please say it is, I can’t take anymore!
Meris stepped forward to silently join the others during their brief respite. Five years of TRY HARD had made them crave the adoration of an audience and, while they recognized something was very wrong here, they didn't react to the production as negatively as their peers. Part of them still found themself listening for the applause. That realization was uncomfortable enough that they chose not to dwell on it.
B345T: And now... another word from our sponsors. Shall we play the cola one again?
In the distance, the ad could be heard playing in a oddly familiar voice.
Ad: Citizens of tomorrow, refresh your day with new improved Cosmo-Cola...
Naledi: Pop Snap Tick Crick... Ok, Director. Could you please let us renegotiate our contracts? It wishes for greater creative control.
Ral: Yeah, these lines are terrible. It would be much more entertaining if we could do our own thing.
Agent B345T leaned forward immediately. Clipboard up. Eyes narrowing like this was the most personally offensive thing that had happened all day. Meris listened carefully, saying nothing. Their attention remained fixed on the Director's posture, the tightening grip on the clipboard, and the way their expression shifted the moment creative control was mentioned. It reminded Meris of negotiating with an especially territorial flight instructor. This wasn’t someone worried about losing money. It was someone worried about losing ownership.
B345T: Nope! No way! Last time I let you and your kind have freedom... I lost my stage and actors!
Naledi: Crick Snap Tick... What would you be willing to consider?
Ral: We need editorial control too. We’ll prove we can put a show together properly.
Something clicked in Meris’ mind as B345T had spoken.
oO You and your kind... Oo
Meris: You've seen others? Like us?
The pilot asked carefully. B345T might have been their only connection to the others. They might know where the missing crew was. They might even know how many productions were operating simultaneously. Meris considered that possibility carefully and found it difficult to believe that the Thor crew were unique in their current situation. Had the others actors they’d worked with on TRY HARD been just as trapped as they seemed to be?
B345T laughed again. Not smaller this time. Not contained. It came out in that same exaggerated, almost theatrical burst, bending forward, one hand clutching their chest like the emotion of it all was physically too much to hold upright. The sound bounced off the studio walls in clean, rehearsed timing. Too clean. Too intentional. Like it knew where the punchline was supposed to land even if nobody had written one.
B345T: I may have been born at night...
Their head tilted slightly, eyes locked on Ral with surgical patience.
B345T: ...but not last night. I am not giving control of my studio to simple actors.
The word simple landed strangely. Not insulting. Not emotional. Merely categorizing. Meris had spent enough time around directors now to recognize that particular tone. B345T was not talking to them as people. They were talking to them as cast members. Assets. Pieces of a production.
B345T: Already you are causing issues…::beat:: Maybe we should go back to the previous episode.
The Director paused. If Meris didn't know better they might have thought B345T was smiling. Wickedly.
B345T: So you’ll be good little kids.
Ral: Previous episodes?
A chill settled in the pit of Meris' stomach. The Director was not speaking like someone discussing reruns or rebroadcast schedules. Five years in TRY HARD had taught them that narrative and reality were often the same thing here. If an episode could be revisited, perhaps it could be restored. If it could be restored, then memories could be erased. Friendships could be undone. Progress could simply cease to have happened.
B345T: You know the episode before this one. ::beat:: That way everything in this episode doesn’t come up...
The studio lighting dimmed just a fraction, like the system itself didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. Then the final line landed.
B345T: ...like this conversation.
The J'naii officer reached out and placed a hand on Ral's arm. They thought briefly about doing the same for Naledi but stopped themself. They weren't entirely sure why. Something instinctive deep within them simply insisted it would be a mistake. The threat from the Director hung in the air regardless. It wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. It felt worse than that. Like a correction waiting to be applied.
Meris: He's not just talking about a rerun. ::a beat:: He's talking about time manipulation.
They took a slow breath and looked from Ral to Naledi, painfully aware that the memories they had only just recovered could easily disappear again.
Naledi: Response.
With a casual flick of the hand, B345T dismissed the tension in the air as if it were just another lighting issue. The threatening weight of continuity talk, the fractured awareness in the scene, and the actors pushing back against structure all seemed to get filed under manageable if ignored correctly. They wandered over and leaned against a prop like nothing important was happening. Like they hadn't just threatened to rewrite the reality of their three lead actors.
B345T: If you want to negotiate a script, that is the most I’ll give you.
Meris lowered their hand from Ral’s arm.
Meris: That is very generous. We'd like that. When can we have time to work on it?
Even as they asked, Meris realized how little of their life between productions they could actually remember. Five years of TRY HARD existed in vivid detail. Entire conversations, action scenes, and promotional interviews remained crystal clear. Yet the days between filming blurred together into a haze. Time moved differently here. Or perhaps memory did.
Naledi/Ral: Response.
B345T: Don't like it? Too bad that’s show busyness.
Meris: No, of course. It's a very generous offer. I'm sure we'll come up with something… worthy of your talents.
The words tasted strange coming out of their mouth, but they had spent enough years around directors to recognize vanity when they saw it. In the background, the Cosmo-Cola jingle continued drifting through the studio walls like an especially persistent haunting. Meris knew it would soon end and their brief interlude would come to a close.
Meris: Now then, we should get back to it. Meal break occurs after the next commercial. We can discuss our script then.
Meris deliberately avoided looking directly at either Naledi or Ral. Instead, they focused on adjusting the triangle hanging from their belt and hoped the message came across anyway. Play along. Survive the scene. Wait for an opportunity. In the back of their mind, another thought surfaced uninvited. If they still possessed the chemically propelled firearm from TRY HARD, they were not entirely certain they would trust themself not to use it on Director B345T. That realization was almost as alarming as the realization that their very memories were in the hands of another.
Naledi/Ral: Response.
The set then began to subtly reconfigure itself again. The lights warmed. The sponsor music faded. They were back in the Bug-Catcher House. Somewhere overhead a cheerful theme started building toward what felt suspiciously like an episode-ending montage.
oO The story is trying to conclude itself. Oo
The camera drones buzzed back into the scene and Meris thought they knew what was expected of them.
Meris: Well, I think we've learned something important today.
Ral/Naledi/B345T: Response.
Meris wasn't entirely certain what lesson the episode expected them to learn. Fortunately, sitcoms rarely seemed interested in such specifics. But they'd certainly learned a lot about who they are and where they were.
Meris: Sometimes your friends help you succeed. Sometimes they help you remember who you are. And occasionally they help you write surprisingly effective music.
Ral/Naledi/B345T: Response.
The studio lights brightened further. Somewhere, the laugh track played. They weren't singing, so there wasn't a studio audience at the moment. A part of Meris felt physical pain at the canned laughter, knowing how much more fulfilling the real thing felt.
Meris: And no matter how busy life becomes, there is always time to share a meal with the people who matter.
Ral/Naledi/B345T: Response.
A beat passed and Meris looked toward the kitchen set.
Meris: Also, if there is pie, we should probably eat it before the next crisis begins.
They were fairly certain these types of shows were contractually obligated to end on a pie-related joke.
Ral/Naledi/B345T: Response.
(( TAGS/TBC ))
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Lieutenant JG Meris
Helmsperson
USS Thor
A240207M14