[Mike, Tom, and Crow stand behind the control console. All three look rather glum. Stereotypical movie crew union people drinking coffee and eating danishes lounge around the trio.] Mike: [Sigh] Things just aren't the same up here without Gypsy. Crow: [Sigh] Yeah, the bridge seems more crowded somehow. Tom:[Sputtering] Of course it's more crowded! We're surrounded by union thugs! Shop Steward: Hey, our contract specifically states that we are to be referred to as "union hooligans" not thugs. Mike: Whatever. Tom: Where did those danishes come from? Shop Steward: Catered. We'd offer you one, but only dues paying members get them. Crow: Blast. Mike: Look, this is silly. I'm going to call Herb and see if we can get Gypsy back here. [Mike hits the view screen button.] Mike: Hey Herb! Herb! [Studio] [Herb is reading some papers. Pearl is nowhere to be seen.] Herb: Oh, hi Mike. I was looking through your Arbitron numbers. They've been pretty good. [SoL] Mike: Yeah, that's great Herb. . . [Crow darts in front of Mike.] Crow: What's our share? [Mike pushes Crow aside.] Mike: Look, we don't want these union guys aboard. [Turns] No offense guys. Shop Steward: None taken. Mike: We just want Gypsy back. Send her back up, okay? [Studio] Herb: No can do, Mikey. She's already working on "Jenny" as Jenny's wacky neighbor. Anyway, I've come up with an even better companion for you. She's on her way now. [SoL] Tom: We don't want a better companion! We want Gypsy! Crow: Well, let's not be hasty here. . . [Studio] Herb: Whoops. Gotta run. I'm doing lunch with Kevin Bacon. You can thank me later. Toodles Mike. [SoL] Mike: Great. Crow: This sucks. Tom: Well, let's just make the best of this then. I'm going to get one of those danish. . . [Suddenly, the Satellite is rocked, Star Trek style, by explosions. The union crew scatters.] Tom: What the? Crow: It's not me! I'm not scheduled to buffet the ship with explosions for another few days! Mike: Cambot! Give me rocket #9! [The scene shifts to the outside of the Satellite of Love. A Borg Cube is hanging, motionless, just outside the SoL. It appears to be firing on the SoL.] Crow: Mike! It's the Borg! They're out to get us! [A transporter effect begins behind the trio. A humanoid figure begins to materialize.] Tom: Look! They're sending a boarding crew aboard! You've got to stop them, Mike! Mike: We have no weapons! What do you want me to do? Wave my hand and say "Borg begone now!" [Mike waves one of his hands and places the other on the control console. Suddenly, the scene shifts outside. The Borg cube is struck by a massive bolt of energy. The cube then explodes in a gigantic fireball, which is sure to have used up all of the special effect money for season 9 and 10.] [Back on the Bridge, Tom and Crow stare at Mike, who stands there sheepishly.] Tom: Mike Nelson, Destroyer of Worlds strikes again. Crow: We stand humbled in your presence, Oh Mighty One! Mike: Knock it off you two. I'm sure that there's some rational explanation for this. [Mike begins to examine the console. Meanwhile, the humanoid figure behind Mike finishes materializing. It's a Borg. A female Borg, who begins to walk intently towards Mike and the bots, who are unaware of her presence.] Mike: [Staring at the console] Look! The nanites added an "Anti-Borg ray" to the control console when we weren't looking. Say, there's an "Anti- Shadows " ray too. And an "Anti-Team Knight Rider" ray . . . [The Borg drone is now mere feet away from the trio, who now look up and see her.] Tom: AHHHH! Crow: Hey look! A Borg boarding party! You don't see many of those around here. Mike: [Hesitantly] What do you want? Borg: We. Can. No. Longer. Hear. The. Collective. What. Has. Been. Done? Mike: Well, uh, I. . . Tom: Mike blew up your pathetic little cube! Crow: Yeah! So back of unless you want the same done to you, pal! Mike: Guys, stop helping. Borg: The Collective is no more? We are alone? Without our crewmates to assist us? This unit must continue its existence. This unit must adapt. . . [The Borg wanders off stage.] Crow: Mike!. You scared her off ! Way to go! Tom: Yeah, good job Big Guy! Mike: But I didn't do anything! I just stood here and stammered! Tom: Come on! You scared her off! Crow: Don't sell yourself short. The bald guy himself couldn't have done better. [The Borg returns from off-stage. She no longer wears the Borg prosthesis, rather she now wears a silver-gray form fitting bodysuit, leaving little to the imagination.] Borg: Oh. Hello again Michael. [The trio stands speechless for a moment.] Mike: Um, hi. Crow: [drools] Borg: Although I am saddened that my presence in the Collective has been terminated, I am quite happy to be spending time among my new crew mates. Mike: Um, yeah. Tom: Who are you? Crow: [drools] Borg: I have long ago forgotten my birth name. Among the Borg, we are simply referred to by number. Crow: [Snapping back to life] You mean like 134,592,943 of 403,116,986? Tom: Or Square Root of 13 of 47? Crow: Wait, I thought she was Logarithm of 4 of pi to the fourth? Tom: No no, you've got it all wrong, she's Fourier Series of Sin 2*x of the number of 1997 Denver Nugget losses. Mike: Guys. . . Crow: No, she's 36 of 24 of ... Mike: Crow! Crow: Come on, Mike. She's a babe! Borg: [Angrily, grabbing Crow] Golden one! Are you making a derogatory comment about me? Are you, perhaps comparing me to a child? [She drags Crow off-stage. Loud noises can now be heard as Crow is tossed about.] Tom: Gee Mike. Do you think that we should keep the Borg from turning Crow into scrap metal? [Crow shrieks as more crashes are heard.] Mike: I suppose. Hey, Borg person! [She reappears, still grasping Crow by the neck.] Crow wasn't insulting you. He was comparing you to a beloved character of children's films. Borg: [Dreamily] I remember watching this program with my grandparents before my assimilation. It was one of the happiest moments of my young life. Then the Borg killed them in a raid. Still, the Borg made wonderful latte. And bear claws. . . [She continues to mumble] [Tom looks at Mike, then the Borg, then Mike again.] Tom: Mike, do you have any missing relatives? Mike: Oh Borg? Booorg? [She snaps back to reality.] Borg: Oh. Yes. Sorry. I have considered the Golden One's words, and I will gladly accept the moniker that he has given. I will proudly bear the name of that brave little pig. [She drops Crow to the floor.] Mike: Well, that's great, um, Babe. Tom: Glad to have you aboard. Crow: [Still on the floor] Erf. Babe: [angrily] What was that, Golden One? [The lights begin to flash.] Mike: Whoops. That'll have to wait. We've got fan-fic sign! [Mike and Tom rush about while Babe stands aside, confused. Crow's still on the floor.] [6 . . . 5. . . 4. . . 3. . . 2. . . 1 . . .] [The trio enters and sits down.] Tom: Wow. We've got our own little pet Borg now. Isn't that cool? Crow: I miss Gypsy. She didn't hit me quite as hard. >From rtonts@direct.ca Fri Jan 09 13:58:47 1998 >Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative >Subject: NEW Hail to the Queen 2/4 [PG] (TNG, Marrissa >Stories) >From: Ron Tonts Tom: Oh, so Rob is sending *direct* caca. >Date: Fri, 09 Jan 1998 19:58:47 +0000 > > >--------------2775F4753112E659C8F739D3 >Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1; x-mac- type="54455854"; x-mac->creator="4D4F5353" >Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit > > Chapter 3 > > Jay had retrieved his child from the seat, proceeded to his >quarters, and placed the child in its crib. He then proceeded >to throw the largest tantrum since the last time he thought >Marrissa was dead. Mike: Which was last night, when Marrissa wandered off to the bathroom without telling him. Tom: [Jay] I wanted to kill her! I wanted to kill her! > This time it was even worse though. She was >alive, Tom: Even worse than being dead...she's alive! Mike: I hear ya. > she could come back, but she was a member of the Borg. >Now in order to retrieve her, he had to defeat her. It was no >good, she could do anything better than he could. Crow: Hey, he's singing Marrissa's theme song! Tom: [Marrissa] o/~ Anything you can do, I can do better, I can do anything better than you! o/~ Mike: [Jay] Yes, dear. > The Kobayashi >Maru time, the command experience, even being a parent seemed >to come naturally to her. Crow: Somehow, it *always* seems to come back to that Kobiyashi Maru score. > There was no way to win, and the >Federation would be assimilated. Crow: Yep, without Marrissa the damn Federation Janitors couldn't work . . . > If an entire fleet could >barely stop the Borg when they had one ship and was unified, >how could they stop six ships? The questions kept him awake >through the night. > Mike: Uh, no, Jay, that's the baby. > On one of the cloaked Borg ships, Marrissa >was placed, well, more like thrown, Tom: Well, more like tossed upward, rebounding off the backboard, hitting the blimp, bouncing off Morn, off the replicator, nothing but net. > on a table, ringed with >various equipment. The Borg nanites Crow: Hmm. The Borg must have been at that Carnival too. > were flowing through her >blood stream now, spreading numbness where ever they went. Mike: Marrissa's being assimilated by Cure fans. > Her uniform was removed Mike: Boy, who'd've thought the Borg were such perverts? Crow: [Borg] Clothing is irrelevant. We will--hey, nice ones! > and replaced with a form- >fitting, black jumpsuit. Crow: So, did Herb help with this story too? Mike: Say now... Tom: Mike, we have our own one of those now out on the Bridge. Mike: Yeah, you're right. I better go check on her. Um, just to see if she's okay, of course. Tom: Oh, of course. Crow: Stay away from her Mike. She's trouble. Mike: Yeah right. [Mike exits.] Tom: So, will she kill him or just maim him? Crow: My money's on 'kill.' > The only area that was yet to be >affected by the nanites, was the brain region. Crow: Which, eclipsed by her glands, was easy to miss! > As the loss of >feeling spread up her spine the last bit of consciousness that >was Marrissa closed its eyes Tom: And floated out of Marrissa's body to inhabit a nearby ventriloquist's dummy. > and cried out in pain and anguish >as it slowly was cut off from its senses. In its place was >only the Collective, needing a leader and an icon. Tom: Oh, just paste it into the Get Info window.. Crow: [mumbled] MacBoy. > The logical part of the mind accepted this as a >challenge to over throw, and submersed itself in its task. [Mike re-enters] Crow: [To Tom] Damn. He's alive. Tom: Back so soon, Mike? Did you forget about the lack of atmosphere on the Bridge again? Mike: No. Herb added some atmosphere for the union people. Crow: Well then, how did it go with Babe? Mike: I didn't see her. Tom: So why are you back then? Mike: The union people. They. They, they had their shirts off. [All shiver uncontrollably.] >When her eyes reopened, there was emotions, passions, values, >and memories of her past life that seemed distorted. Tom: Well, yes, looked at logically Marrissa's values and passions do seem a bit distorted. Mike: Almost as if they were written by a fanfic author... > She >wondered why she waited to attain what she always wanted. >Power. Crow: Boy, Rob's characterization of Marrissa is right on the money! > The Collective answered saying she was weak then, but >now she was strong, now she had the power. Mike: [standing and holding his arms over his head] BY THE POWER OF THE COLLECTIVE... > There was the Borg, >the Queen, and they were surrounded by Chaos. Mike: See? There's Elric standing over there by the Borg coffee table. > Chaos must be >brought to the order of the Borg. Marrissa accepted the power. > Crow: So pretty much par for the course then. Mike: Like you said, he has some good insights into the character. > Images and memories flooded over Fleet Admiral Picard's head. Tom: [as Picard] No! No! Not the OJ Trial again! > The horrors and pain he felt when he was a part of the Borg. >Now his adopted daughter Marrissa was part of the Collective. Crow: [Announcer] Today, you too can own Daughter Marrissa in this fine line of Borg collectibles from the Franklin Mint. Only 4 easy payments of $29.95! > On his screen, he could see that admitting it pained his son- >in-law Jay Gordon. Crow: [Jay] The trouble is, she's not actually legally dead, so I can't inherit yet...do you suppose we could at least have her declared incompetent? > But the worst part was that Marrissa had too >much access to Starfleet defences and other secret operations. >She knew weaknesses on all the ships that have come out. Tom: Like, if you promise the crew of the Bozeman that you'll send over nude gifs of Denise Crosby if they drop their shields, they'll do it. Stuff like that. > And she had a brilliant strategical mind. Crow: And a psychotic disregard for all life, something he'd never managed to achieve. > "Jay, what are the most likely places for the Borg to attack >now that they know about the Federation?" inquired the Fleet >Admiral. Tom: *Picard* is asking *Jay*?!? Mike: That's sorta like Steven Hawking asking advice on quantum mechanics from Gilligan! Crow: So, the Borg didn't know about the Federation before? Tom: [as Borg] Why are all these different ships attacking us? It can't be some sort of federation of planets or anything... > "Well, the only targets that I can think of that they would >hit, are Earth for the population, and since they always have >seemed to go for it. Mike: They're just funny that way. > Mars and the Utopia Planitia shipyards in >order to get the technology there. Vulcan because its a major >keystone in the Federation. Crow: Vulcans are from Pennsylvania? > They might also try for the Essex >Fighter facility. Oh, SoongCorp on Omicron Theta also has a >large variety of technology along with the Defiant shipyard in >orbit." Tom: What a wonderfully contrived list of targets! Crow: [Picard] And, since SoongCorp is an invention of this author, I'm betting on that one. > Jay listed. [Mike, Crow, and Tom all speak at once. Mike holds up his hands.] Mike: Were we all just about to make jokes about Jay leaning to one side? Bots: Yes. Mike: Well, let's just take them as read, then. > "Is there some middle ground? Crow: Nope. The Republicans and the Democrats are still at an impasse. Tom: Remember Crow, it's a Canadian story. Their political parties are the Lumberjack Party and the Hockey Player Party. > A point where we can gather the >fleet and get to all those points within an hour?" Inquired >Picard. Mike: Once again, that pretty much describes "Middle ground" doesn't it? > "Now this is rather ominous, but the best location happens to >be Wolf 359." Crow: Great! We can hide in the wreckage of their last invasion! > "How soon until your fleet can get there?" Mike: Well, there's a pile up on the Vogon transpatial highway so it'll be a while. > "About a day or two. The Borg managed to cut the power >supplies for most of the ships. They're recharging through >the use, well, I don't understand the whole process, Crow: [Jay] It's called the "Clara Sutter Handwave Procedure." Mike: Recharging through use? Tom: Obviously there's some piece of trektrivia we missed. > but they >should be ready for action soon. Crow: Stand by for ACTION!!!! >The Enterprise was damaged badly, and lost most of our >engineering staff during the fight. Mike: We're down to Ensign Dilbert and Wally. > We can get the shields up >in about an hour, but they'll only be at twenty percent. >After that, we should get 100% shields in about eight hours." Tom: Raging statistical action! > "All right, we'll gather the fleet at Wolf 359. And pray >that the results won't be the same as last time. Crow: [Jay] Sir, this is Star Trek. Religion is considered silly and irrelevant. > And in >addition, since there's no one in charge of the fleet, I'm >promoting you to Rear Admiral." Mike: And the vicious cycle continues. Tom: Since Marrissa has you grabbing your knees all the time . . . Mike: Tom! Tom: Oh, you thought it too. > "Confirmed. Thank you, sir. Gordon out." Crow: So Chief O' Hara, do you think that Batman can defeat the Joker's nefarious plan? Tom: Oh, faith and begorra Commissioner. We can only hope so. > Jay switched off >the connection. The loss of Marrissa was too much to bear, he >was too depressed to even realise what the Fleet Admiral had >said. Crow: [Jay] What'd he say? Something about dogfood and Mel Brooks? Ah, the heck with it! > Sitting in the Ready Room of his wife, Tom: I've never heard of that part of female anatomy before. > brought back waves >of emotion. Crow: Fear, impotence, failure, humiliation. > He felt he was going to cry, again, when Clara's >voice came through the intercom. > "Jay here, what can I do for you Clara?" Jay answered despondently. Crow: [as Clara] I need a man! Quick! > "We're back up, and ready to kick some Borg tail. Crow: [Jay] The Borg don't have tails, Clara. Tom: [Clara] Well, then, I'll have Dr. Johnson attach some! Crow: [Jay] Make it so. > Your >orders, Captain?" > "That's Rear Admiral. Tom: [Clara, muttering] Yeah, you're half right, anyway! > Keep the teams working on the Shields >and Weapons. The Borg don't seem to adapt to our weapons >anymore, Mike: ...since that would be sensible, after all... > so lets just focus on getting as much power to the >phasers and shields as we can." Tom: So, let's exploit the plot contrivance as long as we can. > "Well, sir, I think that we've come up with a method to >increase the amount power we produce. Right now, we have four >cargo bays completely empty." Mike: [Clara] We can put some extra power there! > "So?" Jay said. He failed to see the point Clara was >making. Tom: [as Clara] Think "T.G.I. Friday's!" Crow: Or, we could fill them full of hamsters on treadmills, all connected to tiny, tiny dynamos! > "Are you familiar with the old papers on cold fusion?" Tom: [Jay] Yeah, it was a pretty good Web management system! > "Ah, yes. We tried it back in the 21th century, right? Tom: No, I think it was the 20st. Or maybe even the 23nd. > They couldn't find anything cold enough to contain the >reaction." Mike: Um... well... um... how about *space*? Tom: Nope, not cold enough. Crow: Did they try a dish of Klingon revenge? Tom: I always pictured that as being like cucumber soup. > "Well, we were going to set up fusion batteries in the Cargo >Bays, and flood them with liquid Nitrogen. Then expose the >cargo bay to deep space. Mike: ...which will suck everything *out* of the bays... > The result should be a system that gives us lots of >power, and doesn't suck up the juice we make." Mike: That wouldn't happen to be strawberry juice? Tom: Err, doesn't the Federation use anti-matter for internal power? That's a lot more efficient than fusion, hot or cold. Crow: Fan-bot. > "Wait a moment, from what you're telling me, the system will >need hydrogen and nitrogen in order to run. How will we get >those?" Tom: Oh, I dunno, maybe if you had some WATER and some AIR you could get some?!?! > "The replicators in the cargo bays can be set to continuously >produce those substances. Mike: Here's another box of nitrogen, sir. Crow: Good. Now get some jars of hydrogen! > They can be powered by the >batteries too. It's like the heart pumping blood into >itself." Mike: [Clara; waving his hand] We call it the "By-our- bootstraps Method." Tom: Good thing she waited until the last minute to invent perpetual motion. > "You're too damned smart, Clara. Mike: Report to Sickbay for a lobotomy. > Keep it up. Jay out." >Maybe things might not be so bad after all, thought Jay. > Mike: But they probably are. > Hours later, the fleet moved off towards the rendezvous point >at Wolf 359. Jay was in command, with Alexander fulfilling >the duties as First officer, Mike: Being a whipping boy for the Captain? > and Ops. Tom: Hey, who's this Ops fella? Seems like a regular sorta guy. > Everyone else remained at >their posts. Crow: [with a lisp] Don't evther sthick your tongue on cold posths. > "Clara to Bridge, were turning on the fusion batteries." Tom: Bucka-WOW!! > A gasp arose from the Crew as they waited to see if >Clara's idea vaporised the lower portion of the ship. Crow: And it did. Hundreds of crewmembers were sucked out into the endless void of space. Including one Ensign Adolphus Throwaway Jr. > The batteries turned on, the power grid surged with new >found life. The entire ship held its breath for nearly three >minutes. Mike: ...killing most of the crew due to asphyxiation. > They worked! Jay looked around eagerly for >something to fire at, wanting to test the power of the >Enterprise. Mike: A starship captain with a battery is like a little kid with a hammer. > The fleet moved to Wolf 359. > Crow: Where they met the gang from Beverly Hills 90210. Mike: I don't think this guy could write tension to save his life. > On the Borg ships, the Borg Queen Marrissa was orientating >herself to the powers and collective thought of the race she >had joined. The Borg did not touch her face or hair, as they >understood that she had quite a reputation. Tom: [Marrissa] And I want a big bowl of M&M's in my dressing room, with all the yellow ones picked out, a dozen fresh roses every day, and a CD player cranking out Smash Mouth & Chumbawumba 24-7! Mike: [Borg] Are we sure we can't just clone Alice Krige? > Perhaps they could assimilate worlds just by showing that >they now had her as one of them. [All guffaw.] Mike: Hey, Cardassians, we've got Marrissa now! Crow: Hey, cool! Sign us up! > The collective wanted the >Earth in their iron clad order, but Marrissa wanted to have >some fun first. Tom: So fun isn't irrelevant? Mike: Decent continuity certainly is. > As her mind sent the order to the collective, >the unseen ships moved towards a local colony world. The >citizens were shocked and scared witless when the cubes >emerged from deep space. Crow: The citizens were confused. The cubes usually arrived from one of the holes leading to the planet's hollow center. > Moving into orbit, one ship moved out >of formation, and landed on top of the main colony. Tom: Bambi Meets Godzilla, the Next Generation. > The >assimilation took place quickly, with the largest colony >absorbed in about half an hour. The colonists then expected >to meet the same fate, or be spared. But the Borg had other >plans. Crow: They involved strawberry juice and a planet-sized Super- Soaker. > A single torpedo was fired at the surface, as possibly a >warning shot. Crow: [Borg] We are Borg. We are capable of hitting the broad side of a barn. > But the true motives became apparent when the >casing cracked open, and unleashed a virus upon the world. Mike: They all got an e-mail titled "GOOD TIMES - JOIN THE CREW!" > The cells in the body would turn against each >other, tearing each other apart. Resulting in a slow, painful >death. Tom: So this fits the Borg style of assimilate-and-use HOW? Mike: I don't think they're really doing that; they're just telling Marrissa this to keep her happy. > From the safety of her cube, Marrissa watched the plague >spread across the puny planet. Tom: Hulk smash puny planet! > With a voice that could drop >the temperatures of the depths of space, Marrissa laughed >aloud. Tom: I don't think power's really changed her...she's just more obvious about it now. > Her next target, something vital, something no one would >expect. Mike: In a wartime situation, I don't think those two things can be the same thing. > Something that wasn't a small, fledgling colony along >this strip of space called the neutral zone. Crow: Someplace with a mall! > Searching through >the data and her memories, she found the perfect target. > All: Broadway! Crow: Coming this fall, "Marrissa the Musical!" > "Captain's log. We have arrived at Wolf 359. The place is >mush Mike: Q! How dare you turn an entire system into pudding! > cleaner than it was after the last get together the Borg >held here. Tom: So, were the Borg having a block party? >Most of the ships were taken to the smelting yard. I hope >that once we're done here, there'll still be a Federation to >haul the debris back to a smelting yard. Crow: That's right Jay, think optimistic! [mumbling] Poor deluded bastard. > Moral is at an all- >time low. Crow: Wild, random sex in the hallways is rampant, commandments are being broken around the clock and I don't think a single crew member is fully sober. Tom: Oh, like in "The Naked Now." > Especially since the Borg have attacked a small >outpost. They assimilated the main colony, and destroyed the >rest with some type of biological weapon. Mike: [Jay] Fortunately, we were able to cure everyone with the biofilter in the transporter. Crow: Oh, like they ever repeat a trick like that. > If this >ruthlessness is any indication, the entire galaxy is in more >danger than ever before." Crow: Yeah, because of your wife, pouf-pants. > Jay sighed as he finished the log. Crow: And flushed. Mike: D'oh - Crow! Crow: Relax, that was just for old time's sake. >The fleet was impressive, he'd give it that. The Earth >defence fleet led by Fleet Admiral Picard in the USS James T. >Kirk was in attendance, along with the Defiant fleet Mike: [Picard] Attack the Borg! Tom & Crow: [fleet] No! > from >Omicron Theta. There were two Stargazer class carriers, the >twelve Defiants, Tom: Doesn't this kind of defeat the purpose of giving them names? > Two Nova class Carriers including the >Enterprise, seven Nebula class cruisers, two Galaxy class >Cruisers, nine Sovereign class Battleships, four Ambassador >cruisers, Mike: Two and a half Maltin Review Vessels. . . > and twelve Excelsior class cruisers. Tom: I hope you got all that, because there's going to be a pop quiz later. > There was even >five Klingon Vor'cha battle cruisers. In total, fifty-five >ships gathered at the rendezvous. > Mike: Nice Hot Wheels collection Jay's got there. Tom: Yup. > The fighter squadron was out running manoeuvres. "This is >Ground control to Crow: Major Tom? Mike: Too obvious. > Fighter Squadron Alpha. Come in Alpha >leader." > "Roger that, Control. What can I do for ya?" Came the reply. > "How are the manoeuvres going?" Tom: [Alpha leader] That depends - what's a "manoeuvre" Crow: It's the plural of "man ovary". Good gravy, Jay's pregnant!!! Mike: Settle down, it's just creeping Canadianism. > "We've hit two of the five waypoints, and are moving around >the far side of the Moon now. Mike: [Alpha leader] We have "The Wizard of Oz" loaded in the VCR, and are prepared to start the CD on the third roar of the lion. > Hold on a minute, there's a >massive subspace anomaly dead ahead." Crow: Damn jumpgates and stargates, it's not safe to travel any more. > "What is it?" > "I dunno. Crow: Just your typical massive subspace anomaly. You haven't been on Star Trek long, have you? > All fighters, proceed to the following >coordinates." The fighters remained in a tight diamond >formation, as they banked towards the anomaly. Crow: It's a chance to get killed, hurry! > "Can you scan it yet?" > "Yeah, we're starting now. What the @#^*&#(!%#@(*$%(@^" >static replaced the message. Mike: Heyheyhey, watch your language - there are kids here! Crow: Yeah, and they're your bosses! Mike: Good point. > "What do ya suppose that was all about, Fred?" the Radio man >asked his partner. Crow: And now we seem to have wandered into a Stan Ridgeway song. Tom: [partner] Sounds like they're playing Q*Bert. And not doing too well. > In a moment the question was answered, when the Borg >fleet appeared in the sky above. > Mike: Well, technically it wasn't "above," because there's no up or down in space, and it wasn't the sky because there was no atmosphere, but other than that it's basically accurate. > "Sir, we've just received messages about the location of >the Borg fleet." Said the Tactical officer on the USS Kirk. Mike: They're in front of Fred. Beyond that, it's not too clear. > "Pass the coordinates on to the rest of the fleet. Helm, >maximum warp. Engage." Picard ordered, reminding him of his >days as a Captain of the Enterprise. Mike: [Picard] Make it so! Come! Tea, Earl Grey, hot! > The fleet moved off towards >the confrontation. > Tom: So, apparently, no one cares what planet the Borg are at. Crow: [Picard] To Planet Generica! Maximum Warp! > Queen Marrissa had a special room constructed for her in the >very heart of the Cube. Crow: The Rubix Cube? > The room had a chair, Tom: Wow! Not even the Tsars dreamed of such luxury! > and a large >viewscreen. Crow: [Marrissa] Boy, on this thing Brad's butt is the size of a Buick. > All her implants were able to connect and >disconnect to the chair at will for feeding, resting, and >commanding. Tom: Well, it's not an interocitor, but I guess it'll have to do. Crow: But not excreting, so as usual, she was still full of crap. > The viewscreen showed the target planet in the >background, and with the fighter craft they had just >captured in a picture-in-picture display. Mike: [sobbing] Picture-in-picture...next thing we'll find out it has a Sega... Crow: It also had stereo sound, VCR-Plus, a built-in DVD player. Plus, a hammock for all the stuffed animals she's assimilated. [Mike begins to sob harder] Tom: Don't taunt him like that. > The pilots were >pathetic, not knowing anything about the structure of the >security grids, or anything of relevance. Crow: Y'know, I never noticed this before, but Marrissa has a bit of an attitude, doesn't she? Tom: Wow, Crow, you're right! She certainly keeps it well hidden. > They were added to the >Collective. Sitting back in the iron throne, she contemplated >her next move. To assimilate, or obliterate. That is the >question that plagues her thoughts. > Tom: Whether 'tis nobler to compose a fanfic, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing, end them. To write, to type, Aye, there's the rub; but in these fics of fan What implausibilities may come must give us pause. Who would Kids Crew bear, or Marrissa read, When he could his quietus make with a delete key? > The fleet dropped out of warp to find the Borg sitting in >orbit behind the outer moon. A shudder ran through Jay's >system as he recognised the Borg's newest target. The planet >Essex. > Mike: Oh, they're going to excavate the ending to "A Royal Mess" so we finally get to see it. Crow: No, not even the Borg would be that sinister. > On the bridge of the Kirk, Picard sat contemplating his next >move. Tom: Geeez, the only thing people are doing are sitting around and contemplating their next move! Crow: This is the Star Trek equivalent of "Waiting for Godot." > It was odd, he always heard the Borg after the >encounters. His mind was alone, with only himself and no Borg >directives or other thought entering his mind. Tom: [Picard] Y'know, I think I really like vanilla. > "Sir, there's a message coming through from the Borg." the >Tactical officer announced. Mike: Will you accept the charges? > "On screen." Picard ordered. > The space view of the Borg armada switched to the inside of a >cube. Tom: [sports announcer] You're looking *live* at sold-out Borg Cube Arena... >"We are the Borg. This is a message for Locutus. Crow: [Borg] Bob called. He'd like his hedge trimmers back, and wants to know if you're up for bowling Friday night. Oh, yeah, and resistance is futile. > You destroyed >the Queen, Tom: [Mandy Patinkin] Prepare to die. > but have also given us a replacement." Tom: It's Troi! Ahh! Oh wait. Why are we afraid of her? > The screen >then shifted to the interior of the room where Marrissa sat. >Her face was untouched by the Borg implants that sprung Crow: Hey, it's "The Number of the Beast!" Mike: No, there's an "r." > from >her body, covered by the black jumpsuit instead of the usual >Starfleet uniform. Crow: Great, now Marrissa's a mime. > Tubes and wiring connected the chair with >her form, in an eerie mesh of Biological and Technological. Mike: Hey, she's a dual major! Typical overachiever. Tom: Akira! Crow: She's Metron! > Despite the horrors she was subjected to, she almost lounged >casually in her seat. Tom: Just ignore the margarita she's holding. > Watching on the bridge of the >Enterprise, Jay felt like throwing up every bit of matter in >his digestive system. Crow: [as Jay] *Gag*! Marrissa, black just *isn't* your color! You're more of a spring! > "Ah, greetings Locutus. Or should I say, Father?" the New >Queen started "As you can see, I've now joined the Borg in >their quest to bring order to the galaxy. Not only that, but >I get to have some fun on the side." Crow: [Marrissa] Oh, and Jay? I'm seeing Six of Two now. Hope you understand. Buh-bye. > a smile crossed her face, >and a chuckle escaped her lips. Tom: [Jay] Funny, I'd have thought being assimilated would have changed her personality a *little*! >"Your puny fleet is no match for us, and you've been >disconnected from our Collective. Crow: To get reconnected, there'd be a $45 hook-up fee. > Resistance is now truly >futile." With that, the channel closed, Crow: Throwing Herzog and his cronies out of work! [All cheer] > and the attack on >Essex began. > Mike: Yep, sadism. Really makes your species more efficient, doesn't it? > The Borg moved towards the Planet, leaving one ship in orbit >to cover them. Tom: One ship to watch them all, one ship to cover them,/One ship to guard them all and hover in space above them. > The one ship fired every weapon in its arsenal at the >Federation Fleet. From shield drainers to cutting lasers. Mike: Even the kitchen sink! > The Federation belted Crow: Tsk. Tsk. Drinking while fighting the Borg. Mike: Actually, that's kind of sensible. > areas where the weak systems >were supposed to be, only to find a new weapon port, or extra >armour placed around it. Crow: Hey, the Collective finally assimilated a clue! Tom: Oh, that's what we were doing wrong! We were ignoring the weaknesses of our own ships! No wonder we keep losing! > The ships were rewarded by getting >blasting or immobilised. > Mike: I've heard of better rewards. > On the planet of Essex, Queen Victoria and her Counsel were >huddled in a bomb shelter under the palace. Tom: And they are not amused. Crow: Meanwhile the general populace died horribly. . . > The Borg positioned >themselves above the palace, and beamed down to assimilate any >one they could find. Crow: [Borg] You will be assimilated. Mike: [Borg] I am *already* assimilated, you big doof. > In the bomb shelter, two Borg appeared >and began to assimilate the Counsel. Queen Victoria cried in >terror, but became relieved when she saw Marrissa's visage >behind the two Borg. Mike: That's odd. Most people scream in terror when they see Marrissa, and are relieved when the Borg appear. > "Greetings Victoria." As the Borg assimilated the >people, Victoria could see the rest of Marrissa, and Crow: ...she LIKED what she SAW! Tom: Sure, if you're into tubes. > what had >happened to her. "It looks like I'm the Queen now, hmmm? Of >Essex, and of the Borg. Mike: Coming soon to theaters near you: Marrissa: Queen of the Essex! > Soon, the galaxy will be mine!" Mike: She's crossed the line that separates ordinary villainy from cartoonish super-villainy. > With >that, Marrissa unleashed the laugh that chilled the room. Crow & Tom: o/~ Oh, the laugh that chilled the room was the start of the Revolution... o/~ > "You'll never manage to fully assimilate me, you bitch!" spat >Victoria, Tom: So, she crawled into her Power loader and forced Marrissa away from Newt. >using all her inner strength to build up her courage. "My >spirit will not accept the bonds that you place on my mortal >body." Crow [Marrissa]: Okay, then we'll just shoot you > "Such petty words, from a petty being." Marrissa sighed. >Her voice suddenly took on a Peaches and Cream tone. Tom: I'd sing here, but I can't remember anything that they sang. > "Now my dear Victoria, what would possess you to think I >would allow the Borg to assimilate you?" Mike: [Dustin Hoffman] Are you trying to assimilate me, Ms. Picard? Crow : We have SOME standards. Tom: So if she's assimilated, would she be Victoria Borg? Crow: [Victor Borge] Rezhistance ist futile. *KEEK* Ve vill add your biological, *GLICK* und technological, *GLICK* dishtinctiveness to our-r-r-r-r own. *KEEK* > "You-you mean you won't ..." stammered Victoria, amazed and >relieved at the same time. > "No, I wouldn't let them." Marrissa interrupted, in the same >friendly tone. "Not when I could savour this type of moment." Crow: [Victoria] Hey, baby, where does this tube go? > With that, Marrissa drew a Romulan disrupter from a holster >that extended out of her hip, Mike: Suddenly, she's "Robocop", too. > and aimed it at the former Queen >of Essex. With a cry that stretched across eternity, Tom: These stories are just getting longer and longer. > Victoria >became a small pile of dust. [Once again, more balloons drop from the ceiling of the theater, and Mike and the bots dance around again.] Crow: No, no. First she has to turn her into a dodecahedron, then she can crush her and turn her into a pile of dust. Tom: Mike, can this be happening? Are our dreams of a Marrissa-free universe coming true?! Mike: It sure looks that way, Tom... Tom: I wonder if this is officially in Ratliff continuity? Mike: Official Kids Crew canon. Now there's a scary thought. Crow: Hey, this means Ratliff has to drop "Heir to the Throne of Essex" from the introduction scenes! > The newly acquired Borg and >Marrissa beamed back to their Cube, which then set down on top >of the palace, assimilating the entire structure. > Tom: In the U.S. we call it "crushing." Mike: Yep, the cube now has stables and fountains, but who cares, they'll assimilate ANYTHING. > Meanwhile, back in orbit, the Federation fleet was making >some progress. However the cost was too steep. Mike: Well, sure, if you get the leather interior and 6-CD changer. > One heavily >damaged Ambassador class ship Crow: The U.S.S. Jim Carrey. > rammed into the Borg vessel, >breaching the hull, and exposing a weak point. Crow: One of many in the plot. > The area was >now the prime target, and the Borg defended it as such. >Twenty-one ships died before the final Quantum Torpedoes >struck the vulnerable area, destroying the ship. Mike: Duck, more numbers! > The fleet >turned it's attention to the planet of Essex, where the key >areas and cities were already absorbed. The ships moved into >orbit, where they bombarded the surface with several >torpedoes. Tom: Why is the Federation attacking Essex? Mike: I think "the fleet" means the Borg. Crow: I thought the proper term was a gaggle of Borg. Tom: No, a pride. > The torpedoes impacted, but instead of exploding or >unleashing a biological weapon, Tom: ...they broke open to expose a creamy nougat filling! > they began to super-heat the >molecules in the air. Crow: Quick! Get the popcorn! > Fires broke out across the globe. Mike: Mass choirs of "Row Row Row your Boat" shortly followed. Crow: Sales of marshmallows and hot dogs increased dramatically! > Eventually even the very earth molecules began to >heat up. [All guffaw.] Crow: Hey, Mike, I can't find "Earth" on my periodic chart! Tom: Sure you can. Right next to "Fire" and right under "Air." > The once thriving world of Essex became little more than >a miniature burning sun for a brief moment, and then remained >a small charred cinder. > Crow: Wow! Marrissa's reaching heights of destruction even *she* never dreamed of! Mike: Ratliff must be so-o-o-o-o jealous right now! Tom: Wow. I enjoyed THAT. Mike: You know, except for WHO she kills, Marrissa is pretty much the same. Crow: Yeah, and we do have the bonus of watching the representative of an outdated system of government be killed off. All: Hmmmmm . . . > Jay watched as the world of Essex became a black ball of ash. >He was stripped of all his grief and sadness, and cloaked in >anger. Mike: So he's nude and pissed? Crow: Not a BAD metaphor. > "Helm, take us to the nearest cube. Tom: [helmsman] Course set for planet Rubik, sir! > Clara, get those >batteries attached to the phasers and shields. Shayna, arm >all weapons. Mike: [Jay] Alex, whine about your father. Patterson, find out whether you're a man or woman today. > Keep the phasers and shields on a rotating >modulation. If they can adapt, lets not give them the >chance." Mike: Ooops, too late, we're dead. > The Enterprise moved off, with the fleet calling after it. >Within moments, one of the huge cubes filled the viewscreen. Mike: "Objects in the viewscreen may appear larger than they really are." >The Enterprise fired all of its weaponry into the former >strong areas of the cube in hopes of hitting a vital system. >The cube merely sat and absorbed the punishment. Tom: Ahhh, apparently, the Borg are in to S&M! Crow: "Whip me! Harder! Harder!" Mike: Ok, guys, we're getting into a really weird area here... > With only small scratches to the hull, the Borg >returned fire with a cutting laser, Crow: So they're gonna slash the Enterprise's tires? > but not directed at >Engineering, or the bridge, but at the cargo bays. Mike: So, the Borg apparently no longer have any sense of what "Vital ship systems" are? > The Fusion >batteries took direct hits and overloaded. Mike: Whoops. Forgot about those. Sorry. Tom: Starfleet announced the tragic death of the Puttermans today. . . > This sent a massive >surge though the power grid, overloading the phasers and >shields. In such a vulnerable position, the Borg could have >made short work out of the ship. Tom: Bwow-chicka-bow-BWOW! > However, it cloaked and >moved off to join the rest of the group. > Crow: Because otherwise it would have bogged down the plot. > After the fleet limped back to Wolf 359, and Jay received a >harsh lecture from the Fleet Admiral about running off with >the ship. Mike: [Admiral] Young man, what have I told you about borrowing the ship without permission? Tom: [Jay, contrite] Sorry, Dad. Mike: [Admiral] No raktajino for a month! Tom: [Jay] I'd be upset if I knew what the hell raktajino was. > The fleet was stumped. There was no indication of >what target they would go for next. As a result, the only >option was to sit back, wait, and lick their wounds. Crow: My wound tastes like pus, what does yours take like. Mike: [Retching Noises] Thanks . . . > Chapter 4 > > EARTH Tom: Final Conflict! > EARTH Crow: Versus Soup! > EARTH, Mike: "Earth 3", the new series directed by Steven Spielberg coming to NBC this fall. > was the call that continually ran >through Marrissa's mind. Crow: [Jan Brady] You're always talking about Earth! Earth Earth Earth! > The Collective wanted to stop this petty attack on >small colonies and planets that could easily be assimilated >after Earth. The Queen mentally screamed at them to shut up >while she decided what to do next. > Crow: Naturally, no one heard a mental scream, so she resorted to the low tech method of screaming aloud. > Jay awoke from a restless sleep when the baby's cry broke >out. Cradling the little infant and feeding it from a bottle >seemed foreign to him. Mike: Wait, Jay usually breast-feeds his daughter? Crow: Hey, this is the 24th Century. Can't the doctor make him lactate? > He never really took the time to spend >any time with the child lately. Tom: Court orders and such, you know. > With his duties and a Borg invasion that hung over >him like a giant fly swatter, Mike: Wow! What a simile. I'm in awe. > he didn't get time for the little >things. Mike: [crewman] Sir, the Borg have invaded, the Federation lies in ruins, and certain destruction is imminent! Tom: [Jay] Ensign, please, this is my little "me" time - just a bubble bath and a pint of French Vanilla Haagen Dazs. > He scooped up the child and decided to watch a home-holo. All: OH NO! HOME MOVIES! Mike: I think we've seen enough of this 'other' side of Marrissa for a life time! > There was Marrissa pre Crow: Geez, even in the 24th century, they're *still* making Prefontaine movies! > and post pregnancy, Tom: However, she'd hurled all the during-pregnancy holos out the airlock, screaming "I'm a blimp! I'm a blimp!" > with Himself, Mike: Who, God? Tom: Yes, Marrissa is Bethany in Kevin Smith's Dogma. > Fleet >Admiral Picard, Jackie, and everyone else having a good time >at the family vine-yard in France. Crow: [as Jay] Oh, look how little Sarah liked to be pressed with the grapes! Oh, and there's Alexander after downing 6 bottles of wine - only took 20 guards to stop his reign of terror! Oh, and there's me digging up the charred remains of Picard's in-laws... " > Jackie. Suddenly a light >switched on inside his head, Mike: Close your mouth, Jay. > and he replaced the infant in it's >crib. Mike: Replaced it with a toaster, in fact. Jay doesn't cope well with loss. Tom: Her! Her! The offspring of your union, the fruit of your loins has gender, you repressed, p-whipped mealymouthed moron! > He then got on his uniform and ran for Jackie's >Quarters. Mike: Oh - my. Crow: Ahem! Tom: At least he's not wallowing in his grief. > Unlike most of the other members of the ship, Jackie >was enjoying a happy, peaceful sleep. Crow: Ahhhh, the wonders of Prozac. > So it was rather >obvious that she would be cheesed off when the doorbell rang. > "Who the hell is it? It's three in the morning." Tom: Jackie's pretty scrappy for an eight-year-old. Mike: Eight? Tom: Well, she can't be more than twelve or so. Either way, Jean-Luc and Beverly aren't raising her very well. > Jackie >moaned, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Jay opened the door. > "Jackie, listen. Is there any way for you to hack into the >Borg Collective?" Crow: Sure. It's in UNIX, right? > "Maybe," she said, stifling a yawn, "I would need an access >point though." Crow: And a Powerbook. Mike: Well, that goes without saying. > "You mean, like a Borg Drone?" Tom: Unfortunately, Borg drones are nine-pin and she only has thirteen-pin cables. > "Sure, why not. What's up?" Mike: [Jay] Oh, nothing much, just the tiny little matter of a MASSIVE BORG INVASION, YOU GIT!!! > "As near as I can figure, the Borg are allowing Marrissa to >feel emotions. Crow: Which is strange since all she was ever good at was smugness and anger! > That way she can use them to help her plans >like anger, desire, lust All: WHOA! > for power, All: Whew... > and so on. Tom: In other words, how Marrissa feels on an ordinary day. > But if we can >input things that produce positive emotions, she might stop. Mike: [Borg drone] Miz Picard? I brung you some purty posies. > Or at least get confused." Crow: Yeah, positive emotions certainly messed her up in real life! > "Yeah, that might work," Jackie figured, "And if it doesn't, >we could still hookup blueprints and weak points of the cube >ships." > "Great, we can get to it, as soon as we find a Borg." Crow: Try Borgmart. Tom: Or World of Borg. Mike: Don't forget Borg Club. > "Ok, now if ya don't mind, I'd like to get back to sleep." > "All right, see you in the morning." With that, Jay left the >quarters, and Jackie fell back into a deep slumber. > Mike: Yeah, we'll save the universe after our beauty sleep. > Eyes showing dark bags from lack of sleep over the past >couple of days, Crow: Sleep is irrelevant. Tom: Can't she just prop herself up in one of those little closets for a couple of hours? >Marrissa still pondered her next move. Should she finish off >the Romulans? The Klingons? Perhaps the Cardassians with the >Dominion? Tom: The Narn? Mike: The Martians? Crow: The Chicago Bulls? Tom: Vorlons? Mike: Rutans? Crow: Cylons? Tom: Hey, Cylons versus the Borg! That'd be...redundant. >NO, she screamed at herself, why was she putting this off? >Why didn't she want to end the Federation? She was weak then, >but now with all this power, she didn't want to remove the >people who limited her? Why? Crow: It's the evil power of Viacom. Tom: "We won't let you kill a main character. Unless their contract is up, of course." >In order to let the Collective believe she was listening, she >let two of her ships head towards Wolf 359. The fleet could >die first, then the Federation. > > The morning awakened the crews of the fleet, Crow: Morning, in space? Mike: Haven't we been over this before, Crow? > who proceeded to >their stations, expecting another dull day of waiting. Tom: [as generic crew] Ho-huh, another day of waiting. > The days had been spent modifying a Borg idea. The EMP >weapons used in the previous attacks could be toned down to a >hand-held rifle. Mike: Yeah, that's bright. Fire anti-electronic weapons on the bridge of a starship. > It was the development team's hope that they >would get to run the final tests today. Instead, the two Borg >ships appearing in front of the fleet shattered that hope. Mike: Actually, it looks like they'll be getting their chance, so... > The Enterprise began firing Quantum Torpedoes >at the ship, in any area that became exposed. Mike: Apparently, the Federation is unalterably opposed to Buffalo shots. Crow: Well, that's one good thing about them. > The fleet >reacted as well, by launching an astonishing amount of >firepower at a cube. Tom: The Federation meets the threat of beef bullion head on! > All to no avail. The Cube taking the >damage was nearly destroyed, Mike: Fortunately, it rolled 3d8 against firepower and got a good save. > but began regenerating, after >it's counterpart used an EMP burst to short out the >electronics on all the ships. Crow: Wanna bet that the lack of life support doesn't *actually* kill everyone on the Enterprise? Tom: So no one in the 24th century has ever heard of shielded wiring? Mike: Remember, they don't know about fuses either. > The Enterprise was barely >functional when a Runabout holding Alexander, Shayna, and a >Security Detachment headed towards the intact cube. Mike: I'd say they're escaping the action, but I don't think there was any. Tom: [as Shayna] Are we there yet? Are we there yet? > > The damaged cube ship was vulnerable, the other ship could be >dealt with as a combined effort, Admiral Saavik Jeric decided. Tom: Jeric? Crow: So is this Kirstie Alley or Robin Curtis? Mike: Let's hope it's Alley. Rrrrowl! >This division had arrived just after the Borg attacked. They >transported everyone in the command bunker up to the lead >ship. At Preador Stovin's Mike: Once again, it's "How Many Ways Can You Spell The Title of the Romulan Leader!' Tom: Ratliff's influence strikes again. > request, and in her own quest to >reclaim the glory she lost, she hunted them through Federation >Territory. Crow: Wait, in Ratliff's universe isn't Saavik head of Federation Intelligence? Mike: Yeah, she's the J. Edgar Hoover of the Federation. Crow: Oh, she wears women's clothes? [Guffaws, then breaks off] Wait a second... > "All ships prepare to decloak and attack >the damaged cube on my mark!" Saavik ordered. Out of the >corner of her eye, she noted Preator Stovin sat in an >unoccupied seat on the bridge. Crow: Reading a magazine. >A smile spread across Saavik's face as she formed the word in >her mouth. "ATTACK!!" > Mike: Actually, she never actually *said* the word, she just kept mouthing it over and over. Crow: Sad, really. Tom: Well, that truly was a pointless scene. > The Away Team beamed on to the undamaged Borg cube with no >difficulties. Tom: The author couldn't imagine any in other words. > Alex held his EMP Rifle uneasily, knowing that if >the team failed, there'd nothing to go home to. Also, if >these new gadgets didn't work the way they were supposed to, >they were going to be joining the Collective as Marrissa's new >shoe-shine drones. Tom: It's Underborg! Disguised as humble shoe-shine drone. . . Mike: They'll shine shoes, and they'll LIKE IT VERY MUCH! > He missed Clara and Alexis, and he feared >for their safety. Crow: [Alex] Sure hope they fix the life support before they left. . . > He only went on this mission because he was >the only available executive officer. Mike: Funny, this is beginning to sound like the setup for Enterprized! > The mission was to >retrieve a Borg Drone, and at the same time disable or >distract the cube. Crow: Unfortunately, for Alexander, he was the one chosen to dance in a hula skirt in front of the cube while singing "Happy Talk." > The poor lighting and steam were torture on >the senses. Tom: Oh no, they've wanted onto the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Set! Crow: And goggles, rebreathers, and so on were completely forgotten. > Perspiration beaded across his forehead, Mike: Ooh. Sweating Klingons. Not Good. > the >average temperature on a Borg ship was obviously too damn hot. Crow: [as Alexander] Setting the temperature to 74 ? How dare they! >The smell was also repugnant, since the organic parts of the >Borg were obviously sweating as well. Tom: Ugh! Just so long as there's no baby oil involved. Mike: My, what a pleasant image. Tom: Be happy, the author got some emotional reaction beyond boredom. >Rounding a corner, and advancing to an intersection, the group >found their targets. A Borg Drone just finished recharging, >and several data conduits ran through the ceiling. Mike: Hoping to escape the fanfic. > Keying the >return signals on the Transporter, the group took up their >rifles. Pulling the trigger at one target after another, >there was no beam to indicate the weapon's firing. Mike: Saving up on the special effects budget, most likely.... > The only indication that they were hit, was that >each of the Borg hit slumped over, the implants often pouring >smoke. Crow: Destroying valuable data and making them COMPLETELY USELESS! > The data conduits were also going off line, and Borg >scrambled to stop the failure. Tom: Great. If the freakin' *Borg* can't get reliable tech support, what hope is there for the rest of us?!? > The security team grabbed two >Borg, beamed back to the Runabout two at a time, leaving Alex >and Shayna alone, while the transporter recharged. Crow: Make out time! > The two >stood back-to-back firing the new weapons repeatedly, Borg >slumping over each other with each blast. Crow: The dreaded "Drinky-Bird" effect! > When the >transporter became fully charged, Alex placed the rifle in >overload, then beamed back to the Runabout, which flew back to >the Enterprise. > Tom: Which promptly exploded when the rifle exploded. The end. > The Romulan force of twenty ships was a welcome sight to >behold, even more so as they blew up the damaged cube. The >other ship was inactive since the Runabout ran away from it, >about two hours ago. All: [British voices] Run away! Run away! > These new EMP rifles are just the thing >for the Borg, Jay thought. Mike: After all, the Borg were so hard to shop for. . . > The Enterprise was backup at top >condition, along with most of the fleet members. Crow: Wow! Two hours for full repairs of a ship?! Bet that you'll never see a car repair place get it done that fast! >Casualties were light as only one or two ships met with the >Borg cutting lasers. The Romulans were an unexpected >addition, but were welcomed into the fleet. > Tom: Gatecrashers! Mike: Again, we have the olestra of action. > In her throne room on the Borg cube, Marrissa was wailing >like a banshee possessed by a demon who was about to be >exorcised. Mike: Exorcising the evil out of an evil being? Wouldn't that make Marrissa good or something ? Crow: But enough about Alanis Morissette... > The destruction of those ships was as if she had an arm >and a leg removed without pain killers. Crow: Fortunately, for Marrissa, she had several clones of herself premade to use to replace her appendages. Mike: parts 2: the clonus horror in space. Tom: What is this "in-ter-price"? > She couldn't believe >the Romulans helped the Federation. She would kill them all! Mike: Ah, Marrissa's true personality shines through. > Every last Romulan wouldn't even Have the honour of being >assimilated! Tom: And Marrissa's acting like she did in "Away From Home". . Crow: Yep, the Borg REALLY whiffed it with Captain PMS here. > The Collective tried to have Marrissa see they >couldn't destroy them yet, by pointing out that the Romulans >had not been assimilated into the Collective yet. Mike: Even though, technically, they had, back in chapter one. > The Collective cringed in pain and Drones felt >horror spread through them for the first time since their >assimilation. Crow: What do you *mean* they put "3rd Rock" opposite "Drew Carey"?!? > The web of connections that was established >under the previous Queen was torn apart and restructured. Mike: Uh-oh, you know how long it's going to take to get to Novell's tech support? >Marrissa was now fully in command of the Borg, they would >have difficulty to even refuse termination orders. Mike: Marrissa - now the Overlord of the Galaxy. Tom: Not quite yet, Mike ... she still has yet to take over the Dominion or the Gamma Quadrant. Mike: Please, Tom, don't give them ideas! > The Borg >fleet moved towards Wolf 359, to obliterate the last remnants >of resistance. > Tom: Which, we should note, is still futile. > On the 16th deck of the Enterprise, in room 1604, Mike: Cubicle 17A. >there was truly a sight to behold. Tom: The Borgs, they had a new queen, who wouldn't do as she was told. They offered her Cardassians and Romulans for slaying. "The Federation it must be" was all that she was saying. Those Borg, they tried to bribe her through offers of spelunking. She just shouted "No!" and started screaming and krunking. > The Science Lab had been >completely refurbished to meet the needs of the newly acquired >"guests". The middle of the room now had two stations that >held the two Borg in the middle. Crow: Stations? What kind? Workstations? Gas Stations? > The room was lined with >computer equipment with a few personnel working at them. Mike: And a pointy-haired Lt. Commander trying to read his e-mail on the food replicators. >Every so often, one of them would cast nervous glances at the >two drones held in the force fields. There was no way they >could get out of the fields, but that fact did little to calm >the nerves of the group. Tom: If you can't trust your own science, who *can* you trust ? >Jackie was among them, rigging special data flows to use on >the Borg. Mike: AOL connections? Tom: [computer voice] Welcome! Resistance is futile! You've got mail! >Normal hookups couldn't be used in the process, for fear the >Borg would gain access to the ships computer. The new hookups >would link the drone to a neural net, that would then lead >back to the ship computer. were completed, Mike: Ok, and that's different HOW? > now they just had to >wait for Jay and the files. Mike: You mean, this is a Men In Black/X-Files crossover as well?! AIE! > Jay entered, holding isolinear >chips holding the information they required. Tom: What? No dip!? Crow: No, Jay's the dip! >Jackie lowered the force fields and hooked up the first drone. >Sitting down, she began her programming. Crow: Yeah, like trying to reprogram the Borg with COBOL is going to help. Mike: Probably still haven't fixed the year 2000 problem. > "All right, judging from the logs Data used, the >neural links will be connected in three stages. Data's neural >net was much better at processing information then this >replacement, but it shouldn't make that much of a difference." Tom: [Jackie] I just said that since the author thinks Data is so cool. > She began the process, slowly moving into the layers of >the Borg Collective. Crow: Like big cybernetic matroushkas. > The relays between the Borg and the >computer were not operating as well as it would if a link up >between an android and the Collective was used. It began to >show as the hookups, and the implants they were attached to, >began to glow white hot. Mike: Okay, okay I may not know much, but isn't it bad for the Borg if their various cybernetic doohickies DON'T HAVE FUSES! Tom: Mike? Mike: Yes? Tom: Chill. Mike: Ok. > The emergency lights switched on as >soon as Jackie reached the second link, and the Drone began to >shake worse than someone with fifty shots of espresso under >their belt. Mike: "First Contact", starring Too-Much-Coffee Man! > The force fields snapped into place at the last >moment, just as the Drone overloaded and blew up. The neural >net sat in its compartment and began to smoke and spark. Crow: Ohh! They used a neural HAIR net, those dopes. > Looking upon the smoking pile of ashes that was their >former test subject, Jackie remarked. Tom: [as Jackie] Well, that went well. Who brought marshmallows? > "I think were going to >need some help on this one." Tom: And a bigger boat. > After attaining permission from Fleet Admiral Picard, >the Enterprise broke fleet formation and warped for Omicron >Theta. > Crow: [as Jay] We'll be back in a year! Seeya suckers! > Within the hour, the Enterprise dropped out of warp beside >the massive automated factory that managed to produce three >Defiant class warships every month. Data extended his >greetings to the young Rear Admiral, Mike: In the middle of space, apparently... > and asked what he needed. Crow: Jay's going to ask Data for love advice?! > "Data, you've probably heard that the Federation is under >siege by the Borg. Crow: [Data] No, sorry, I missed that - I've been just so caught up in this whole "kidnap/evil twin" storyline on "Guiding Light". > We've managed to capture two Drones, and were trying to >hack into the Collective. The first try overloaded the link >ups. Mike: But we managed to tag the Pentagon, 4 NASA sites, and the Mossad! > We thought that you might be able to connect with the >last one and do this yourself." Tom: [Data] What is the term? Ah, yes - "AS IF!!!!" > "It sounds like an intriguing quest. I will beam aboard >immediately. Data out." > Crow: How's a 2x4 going to help them hack into the Collective anyway? > Back at Wolf 359, the battle of a life time began, Tom: Actually, it was the battle of Time/Life. Crow: Magazine was pitted against magazine in a horrible conflict! > as Marrissa >and her ships decloaked and attacked the combined fleet. Crow: Mike, is this when Sinclair fights the Minbari? Mike: No, it's where we fight the urge to leave. Tom: I'd rather have my ass kicked by the Minbari. > Three warbirds, two Klingon battle cruisers, a Stargazer >carrier, two Sovereign Battleships, and seven Defiant class >Destroyers were wiped out in the first volley. Tom: Okay, that's seven stargazers, three Klingon Battleships, a Defiant Sovereign, and, uh... Crow: No, it was a cruiser, two Defiant Carriers, three Destroyer class Klingon Stargazer Battleship Volleys, and, and, ummmmm... >On the Bridge of the Kirk, Fleet Admiral Picard ordered the >fleet to fall back while striking at any areas they could. Tom: Picard on the Kirk! We're into some slash now . . . > This tactic failed, as any ship about to go into warp >received an EMP Beam from one of the Borg cubes. > "All ships, initiate plan Delta Armego One." Tom: Apparently, Picard's made so many plans that he's now forced to make Greek letters up. > Picard yelled >over the tactical net. > The operative ships responded by using streams of anti- >matter, like the saucer section did when the Enterprise-D >attacked the very first Borg cube. Tom: Haven't seen that episode or don't remember it? Tough! > The streams temporarily diverted the Borg attention. Mike: Oh, no! The dreaded tickle beam! Crow: "Tickle Me Borg", new from Playschool. Tom: [as Borg] Ha. ha. ha. You will be assimilated. >These were followed up with Quantum Torpedoes that did severe >damage to the Borg magnetic shields. Tom: Which had protected the Borg from all those iron cannonballs they worried about. > The counter attack was of >the norm for the Borg, Crow: [Borg] I am Norm of Borg. It is a targ eat targ universe out there, and I am wearing Gagh underwear. > grabbing ships with the tractor beams, >and dissecting them with the cutting lasers. Instead of >merely removing small plugs of the ships at once, Mike: The ships decided on a tasteful toupee from the Shatner line instead. > however, >the lasers ran through the length of the ship. Gutting >the starships like trout. Tom: They're just floundering around out there. Mike: Yeah, the Borg really kicked their bass. Crow: And they did it on porpoise! > The cubes also fired an occasional >round of shield draining torpedoes. The Kirk dived and weaved >through the amazing amount of debris from all the craft. Tom: Well, Shatner always did know how to dodge around his acting skills. Mike: [giggles] >Only ten ships were left, with one of the cubes almost >destroyed. Mike: More hot statistical action! > The Defiant class ship USS Henson Crow: Mmm-bop. Mike: Henson, not Hanson. Tom: o/~ It's not easy being green. . . o/~ Mike: Sigh. > went through stomach >turning evasive manoeuvres Tom: Remembre the priore occuerance that there was an evasive manoeuvre? Mike: Don't make fun of Canadian spelling. > as the cutting lasers and tractor >beams lanced from the three cubes. One was obviously heavily >damaged, with large amounts of radiation leaking into space. >The energy core could be hit with just the right amount of >firepower, mused the Captain. Mike: Whose name has been withheld pending an investigation. > "Helm, position ourselves on a course towards the damaged >cube. When we're on course, make the Henson look like a >wayward piece of debris." ordered the Captain. Tom: [as Captain] Just show them Fozzie the Bear's act, that'll be dead enough... > "Aye, sir." replied the multi-armed robotic helmsmen, its >voice cold, and emotionless. Crow [Robot]: Stupid Asimov and his stupid laws . . . > The Henson moved out of the debris of its comrades, floating >at full impulse towards the cube. Mike: I'm feeling a full impulse too, if you know what I mean. > The Borg fired on the few >remaining fleet ships, using a cutting laser to separate the >saucer section of the hull from the rest of the ship, then >using the same beam to slice off a Romulan Warp Nacelle. Tom: Would that be the white meat or dark meat of a Warbird? Mike: More nacelles! Drumsticks for everyone! > When in position, the Henson rose from the grave, Crow: It's the USS Undertaker, then. >firing wave after wave into the damaged area. The Quantum >Torpedoes stripped away layer after layer of hull, until the >energy core could be seen. Mike: The torpedoes were all used up, but what a view! > "Tactical, fire the remaining Torpedoes at will!" Crow: But they already killed Riker! > the Captain >bellowed, a triumphant smile on his face. The smile turned >itself upside down, Mike: What's the matter, sad clown? > however, when the droid Tom: I hope it isn't that toady, R2. Crow: That little brown noser. > announced all the >torpedoes were used to remove the hull. Crow: I don't believe it. Big Face here called it! Mike: Thank you, thank you. > The Phasers were also >offline, due to debris from the ships damaging the arrays. Mike: So why don't they just create Booch-style objects? Tom: Thanks for that obscure C++ quote, Mike. Mike: Hey, the temp agency had me programming for a week. I just took a bunch of commands that I heard the other programmers use and strung them together. Crow: And. . .? Mike: I ended up writing "Outpost." > "Computer, rig all auto-destruct packages for contact fuse. Crow: If you can't win, blow em up! Tom: [as Kermit] And now, the Great Gonzo will try to dismantle a bomb while reenacting the monologue from Hamlet! Yeaaaaaaah! >Helm, take us directly into that power core." Crow: Wedge! Follow me! Tycho, split up and head back to the surface. And see if you can get a few of those TIE fighters to follow you! > The Henson moved into the Borg power core, collided, and >destroyed the vessel. Mike: I don't think your insurance will cover "willful collision and self-destruction damage" for that... > The action was in vain though, as the two >remaining Borg ships continued to pound away at the few >remains of the fleet. Mike: And any possible sense of drama. > On board the James T. Kirk, Tom: Yes, you can certainly fit a lot of people on Shatner, considering how he's grown. > the bridge was dark, with only >red lights keeping it illuminated. Tom: Jean-Luc, it is NOT time to develop your film! > Picard managed to command >the fleet though the whole disaster. Crow: Yep, when you want a successful fleet action, send in baldy. Mike: I wonder what Sheridan would have done here. Tom: Run. > Now it was only the Kirk >and its sister ship the Elizabeth, the Stargazer, Mike: the USS Saratoga, >the Nova class Yorktown, Crow: the White Star, >a Klingon Battle Cruiser, Tom: the Battlestar Pegasus, >a heavily damaged Romulan Warbird, Mike: the Terragen vessel Streaker, >the Nebula class Phoenix, Crow: a Mon Calamari Cruiser, >two Ambassadors, Tom: a Dahak class planetoid, >and a Defiant. All: [singing] FI-I-I-IVE NOVA CLASS... Tom: Four Klingon K'Tingas... Mike: Three Defiants... Crow: Two Ambassadors... All: *And a Warbird, damaged heavily!* > "Admiral, the Elizabeth is saying that her shields have >dropped, and Borg are beaming on board." announced the >tactical officer. Crow: [as tactical officer] They want to know if you know anything about "Jehovah's Witnesses"? > "Send the reply for an Omega destruct, move it towards one of >the cubes. Crow: Yes sir. They're marching gleefully to their deaths. > What is the status of the rest of the fleet." >Picard ordered. Crow: Grated, sir. > "Sir, the Borg are concentrating their efforts on the Romulan >and Klingon ships." Mike: So they're killing the extras then? Good riddance. > On the viewscreen, the Borg had stopped firing at the >Federation craft. Instead of using the sweeps of the cutting >lasers, short bursts were used to puncture holes in the hulls. Tom: [as Borg] Like shooing fish in a barrel. Ha ha. >It was almost like they had stopped trying. Then tiring of >the game, the Borg lead ship used their tractor beam and >grabbed a hold of the Warbird. The cube then proceeded >to carve it up like it was the Thanksgiving day turkey. Crow: Turkey without stuffing?! Mike: And cranberries? Tom: And mashed potatoes?! > Preador Stovin was terrified. Tom: His agent had just told him that he was still in the running for the role of "Neelix." > He lived through two Borg >attacks, one under Marrissa. Mike: And lots of people weren't sure they could handle ANY form of being under Marrissa. > The beams slashed though the >bridge, and Stovin lasted about two seconds before the >decompression froze him to the bone. > Mike: Alas, poor Stovin. I knew him well. Well, actually, not all that well... Crow: Tom, wasn't that some drama? Tom: Yeah, except decompression doesn't freeze you. > Aboard the Enterprise, in the science room, Data was >preparing himself to link to the Borg Collective. The >procedure began as before, with little or no access to the >Collective. Mike: Busy signals are a real downer Tom: Keyword: Jump BORG > The third linkup was once again the break-through >into the vast consciousness. Crow: Data does peyote. > The download began, and Data >used his previous experience with the Collective to locate the >Queen. Mike: Then Data noticed that the Borg Queen had been buying ad space at www.strawberryjuice.com, so he just followed the link back to her. > The first time Data accessed the Collective when he >tried to save Locutus, he learned there were subspacial >connections between each individual Borg. Crow: It takes a village to raise a Borg. > Those connections >looked like a spider web, with each strand connecting a drone >to the rest of the Collective. Tom: So actually, kinda more like a big daddy longlegs than a web. > At the time, he was engrossed >with the task of saving humanity, and didn't get a chance to >follow a link that led away from the Borg ship. The second >time he was a part of the Collective which was much more >disorienting. Mike: But the hours were reasonable. >It was as if a human was trying to decode one of the magical >3-D eye puzzles on a much larger scale. Tom: And the award for "Oddest analogy in a Star Trek story" goes to . . . Rob Tounts! All: [Cheer] > He managed to follow >the links to the Queen, but noticed that she was outside it >all. Crow: He should have just gone through Yahoo > Enforcing her will where necessary, leaving other areas to >their preassigned tasks. Tom: Marrissa had to become a Borg to learn how to delegate? > This time the Collective structure was different. Each drone >was connected to a focal point on each ship. Tom: The Commissar. > The focal drone >was then connected to a location outside the ship. In the >middle of it all, was the Queen, manipulating the Collective >as she might an appendage. Crow: But since this a family fanfic, we won't go into all that right now. > The downloaded information was guided >through the links until it finally was on its way to Marrissa. >Data then manipulated the areas of the Collective Tom: As ordered by Fleet Admiral Pee-Wee Herman... > devoted to >ship building and planning. The blueprints for the two >attacking Borg vessels were stored in Data's neural net then >transferred to the ship's computer. Feeling the mission >complete, Data disconnected himself from the access point. Crow: But not before downloading the entire archive from www.nudetrek.com. Mike: Crow, what have I told you about going to that site? Crow: Geez Mike. It was research. Where else am I going to find nude shots of Mot the Barber? Mike: [To himself] I don't want to know. >Back in the science lab, the security team took an EMP Rifle >and fired it point blank at the drone, then vaporised the >remains. Tom: [as Borg] I'm your unwilling drone to the Collective , and this is the thanks I get? Geez... > There was no point in allowing the Borg knowledge of >who planted the information there. > Mike: That darned old Geneva Convention's so impractical, let's just circumvent it. > The Borg had smashed the main body of the fleet. Not to >mention the Romulan portion. Tom: Which can be returned for a full refund. > Marrissa smiled as she watched the >last Warbird expand into a cloud of fragments. It was almost >like watching a fireworks display. Tom: But with a higher body count. Crow: And look! Dad just set the yard on fire! Tom: Sound familiar Mike? Mike: He only did that until the court order forced him to stop. > She hadn't destroyed this >many ships since she and the Enterprise dissolved the Romulan >Empire. Crow: With a satisfied smile, she assimilated a cigarette. Mike: You two are really on today. Tom: Yeah, we've been following that whole Monica Lewinsky thing a little too closely. > The remaining ships were running away, but they >didn't matter. If anything they would gather all of Starfleet >in one location, where they could be wiped out with a slash >of a cutting laser. She wished that her crew could see her >now. Tom: I'm sure they're aware of you, at least. > Jay, Clara, Alexander, everyone. They too could revel in >her triumph. Perhaps if she were to talk with them, reason >with them, they could see the benefits of assimilation, the >powers. Mike: The 40% employee discounts... Crow: Eligibility for Corporate Rate at all participating Ramada Inns... Tom: Use of the Borg Condo on Oclupuca VII... > She could train her child to inherit the Collective >when she was removed. Mike: We have monarchy, we ARE in a Ratliff story! > The datastream slowly came flooding >Marrissa's mind, Mike: They still haven't finished that 56.6 software? > as possibilities for her former crew and >family were brought forth. Tom: [as Marrissa] A musical! That's the ticket! > She went with the ideas, then >wondered why she wished for it. Then she was weak, limited. >They represented an aspect of her life, one filled with love, >friendship, and other benefits. Mike: Like fawning underlings. Tom: Lots and lots of Strawberries. Crow: And her large harem of stud muffins. > They should be allowed to >live free, but the Borg purpose was to bring order though >assimilation. Crow: Like Pat Robertson. > The two directives battled with each other in >Marrissa's mind, then spread through the rest of the >Collective. Both equally powerful forces battled for >domination of Marrissa and of the millions of Drones under her >command. Mike: Geez, talking about forcing your problems on others! > The struggle mentally exhausted the Borg, and a >cacophony of the Damned rose from each drone on every ship >from the Alpha to the Delta quadrant. > Tom: [Borg] Shut. Up. Shut. Up. You. Dumb. Broad. Why. Did. We. Assimilate. You? > Feeling the pain of the Collective, Tom: [Bill Clinton] Ah feel yore pain! > and seeing the massive >ships begin to drift, the Fleet Admiral managed to get the >remainders of the fleet safely away. Finally, the Borg >directive overthrew the dataflow, and the Borg reached the >decision. Mike: They'd go with the leather sofa in the rumpus cube. > The people that were connected with their Queen's >past were a threat to them. They were to be assimilated, >or failing that, eliminated without question. The two ships >cloaked and warped towards Earth. Mike: So the Borg are worried that Marrissa's warm and fuzzy feelings will endanger them? > Chapter Five > > At the science station at the back of the Bridge, a display >of a Borg ship dominated the screen. Crow: Which ship? Who cares! > The rendering of the cube >was painted in an odd combination of green, yellow, and a >single patch of red. Mike: Q*Bert! > The red point was the sole opening in the >Borg defence grid that could be broken into easily. Tom: So, let me get this straight. Data, an android, brought them the plans to the invincible Borg Ship? Mike: The Borg ship is heavily shielded and carries a firepower greater than half the star fleet. Its defenses are designed around a direct large-scale assault. A small one-man fighter should be able to penetrate the outer defense. Crow: Pardon me for asking sir, but what good are snub fighters going to be against that? Mike: Well, the Borg don't consider a small one-man fighter to be any threat, or they'd have a tighter defense. . . Tom: All right, knock it off you two. Crow: Hee, hee. > There were weak points across the cube >surface, but since Marrissa became the Queen they were >reinforced or shielded. Crow: No originality allowed without Marrissa. > The spot was an exhaust port for waste >methane, carbon dioxide, oxygen, and other materials that >could effect the implants on the Borg. Mike: So in other words things common in the damn atmosphere? > It was all vented out >into space through that one point. Mike: Only a precise hit will set up a chain reaction. The shaft is ray-shielded, so you'll have to use photon torpedoes. Crow: That's impossible, even for a computer. Mike: [using a different voice] It's not impossible. I used to bulls-eye womp rats in my T-16 back home. They're not much bigger than two meters. Tom: All right! Knock it off! Crow: Hee, hee. > There were no cutting lasers >near the port, for fear of igniting the materials. Tom: They're going to drop a cherry bomb down there! > The shields >were also void of the area, because if the wastes did ignite >the shields would keep the fires in. Tom: So the guys who can survive in the intense radiation and absolute zero of bare space and shrug off anti-matter blasts are worried about a grease fire?!? Mike: Yeah, pretty much. > The only way to use this >weakness was to fire Quantum Torpedoes down the shaft. Once >down into the pumping system, the torpedo would explode and >ignite the wastes in the ship. Crow: Then, they're going to go on a panty raid! > That would of course take into >account all the wastes weren't already cleansed, and the angle >would not send the torpedo into the side of the shaft, but it >was the best shot they had. Mike: Well, since the UDP against the Borg didn't work. . . > Jay moved away from the Science Station back into his Command >Chair. Mike: No one will be admitted during the "Moving Away" scene. > "Shayna, open a channel to the fleet at Wolf 359." Jay >ordered. "Tell them we have something they can use." Mike: [Jay] They're gonna laugh, so repeat it several times. > Shayna tapped the Comm channel Tom: ...and cast a Hurloon Minotaur. > and opened it to any ship at >Wolf 359. Puzzled that there was no response, she tried again. Crow: [as operator] SOR-rey, your party is no ANSwering. Tom: You're not dealing with AT&T. > "Jay, the fleet isn't answering." Lieutenant Sachs >announced. Crow: Do they have Fleet waiting? > "Either they moved to another Borg attack location, >or have ..." Crow: . . . turned off their comm units to avoid letting the Borg track them through their communications? > "I doubt the second option very much." Jay interrupted, >denying the possibility. Crow: I refute it thus! [kicks the seat in front of him] > "The fleet would have gotten off >some sort of evacuation notice if it was destroyed." Crow: Could you possibly hold off with that killing blow until I can get a note off to the fleet? Thanks, you're a dear. Tom: Poor deluded fool. > "They also would have given us a message that they were >changing their location." Countered Shayna. > Jay sighed. The crew usually didn't question Marrissa. Mike: Thanks to those disciplinary executions. > "Alex, scan the fleet's last known position. See if there's >some way to give us a visual of the area." Crow: Turning on the viewscreen might help. > "Yessir," Alex said, as he went to work at his console. >"Visual coming through now." No one was fully prepared for >the scene of carnage. The nearby space telescope Mike: Hubble? Tom: Nah, can't be. You destroyed that eons ago. Mike: Hey! > had picked >up the last battle field of the Federation/Romulan fleet. >Hulls and debris floated past the camera, with some of the >names visible. Mike: In other words, a literary interpretation of a cool Director's shot. Tom: Edmund Fitzgerald. Poseidon. Titanic. Marie Celeste. SS Minnow... > Holding down the meal he recently ate, Tom: [as Jay] No one's getting my macaroni and cheese! > Jay ordered with a >wavy voice. Mike: [Torgo] ThE mAsTeR wAnTs MaRriSsA, BuT hE cAnNoT hAvE hEr! Tom: *Now* who's dabbling in nightmare imagery! >"Alex, can you take the debris and reform it? Crow: Sure! I'll need an arc welder, some I-beams, some rivets, maybe some transparent aluminum, but I'm not really sure that this is a good time for a recycling drive. > Put it back >into the fleet?" seeing the young Klingon at Ops nod his head, >Jay continued. "Put the results on the main viewer." Crow: I think that was an awkward description of using a computer to reconstruct an accident. > Alex nodded solemnly, and went about his duty. The main >viewers star field was replaced with purple wire images of the >fleet, and a green field of debris off to a side. Mike: He needs to learn that effective Web Page design is more than just yutzing around with HTML color options! > The field >of debris covered the ships in the fleet, changing the colour >from purple to green, one by one as the computer sorted >through the rubble. Tom: [Barney Rubble laugh] Crow: [Fred] All right, all right! Hoo-boy! > At the end of the cycle, there was still >a smaller field of debris, and a few purple ships left over. Tom: His Royal Badness' imperial fleet [Prince] *Ooooowwww!* Mike: We couldn't just estimate the mass of the debris and compare it to ships sizes, no, we had to do something fancy! > "What could the rest of it be?" Jay wondered a loud. "Could >the field be the other ships, Alex?" Mike: Mass measurement! Mass measurement! Stop showing off! > "If they were, the computer would have sorted them out." >Alex responded. "It may be a Borg ship. Computer, match >remaining debris on the viewscreen with the schematics on >Science Station One." > The debris shifted and moved around on the screen until it >became the exact replica of the rendering on the rear station. Tom: I don't want to know about anyone's rear station in this fanfic! > "That answers the debris dilemma." remarked Shayna. "But >then where's the ships that survived?" Tom: Meanwhile on Risa. . . > "Jay, there are seven ships exiting warp, dead ahead." Alex >noticed. Tom: It's the cast of Battle Beyond the Stars! We're in a crossover! All: Aiiiiiieeeeeeee!!!!!! > "On screen." The picture of the ships disappeared and showed >the remainders of the fleet dropping from warp. Heads across >the bridge hung in sadness, Mike: Crap, they found us! > seeing the once beautiful, majestic >fleet, reduced to a rag-tag group of a mere seven ships. Tom: But at least those non-human swarthy Klingons and Romulans got their butts kicked! Mike: How many times can Ratliff and his cronies destroy Starfleet? > Fleet >Admiral Picard appeared on the main viewscreen. His eyes were >heavy with exhaustion, and his uniform was creased and dirty. Crow: Geez, Beverly's really wearing him out! >The grubby look of the battered soul on the screen matched up >with the shabby appearance of the vessels. Mike: Designating them the "U.S.S. Dirty-Bum-With-a-Shopping- Cart" class just didn't give the hoped-for morale boost. > "Jay, I can believe that the Borg are too strong. The two >ships that are left are proceeding to Earth at a leisurely >pace. Tom: They're stopping at every Stuckey's along the way! Mike: Hmmm. They must be trying to assimilate the Pecan Logs.... > I've diverted all of Starfleet to try and stop them. Crow: Of course, it might have been wiser to attack the Borg with all of the ships at once, but Jean-Luc would rather let the Borg split them up and kill them off piecemeal. > We >can get there at maximum warp, just in time for the final show >down. Mike: Again, this is a no tension zone. Tom: What convenient timing too. Crow: Someday, we'll read a story where the fleet arrives early or too late to stop the bad guys. But not today. Sigh. > I assume you played your trump card while we were at Wolf >359?" Tom: Yes sir. We won the trick. > "Yes, sir." replied Jay. Crow: And, as usual, things went kinda crappy. > "Good, that allowed the rest of us to escape. Is Data on >board?" > "No sir. He beamed back to the planet where he's trying to >increase production on the Defiants in orbit. It may be a >futile act, but at least it's something to do." Mike: I sense a morale problem here. Tom: "Something to do . . ." > "Excellent. Tom: [Mr.Burns] Smithers, release the hounds! > The Phoenix is reporting some warp field >problems, and the Yorktown needs to maintenance it's fighters. >We'll be leaving within the hour. Picard out." The channel >closed. > "All right people." Jay bellowed. "This is probably the final >round. Lets get every trick, every counter, and every sucker >punch we can ready to go. I get the feeling we're going to >need them." > Mike: Inspiring. Inspiring. > Things were going well, thought Marrissa. Tom: All tension had been avoided and the plot recycled heavily. > The fleet was in >ruins, Earth was about to be assimilated, Crow: Fox had finally stopped showing "World's Scariest Police Chases MCIIVII", the Spice Girls had finally broken up. . > and the last bits of >Starfleet were going to try and stop them. Crow: And Melrose Place was about to come on. Tom: [as Marrissa] Today *is* a good day! > The two ships >dropped their cloaking shields, Tom: I shouted, "Don't look Ethyl!" But it was too late. She'd already seen their exposed warp cores. > to allow the energy to be used >for regenerating the ships' damage. Besides, Marrissa simply >wanted to attract attention. All: [dully] Again, we're shocked. Crow: [as Marrissa] Yoohoo! A poor innocent little assimilated Borg Queen that needs rescuing! > A three ship grouping of Oberth >Class vessels tried to slow them, but met the rest of the >fleet in the great beyond. Tom: Oberth Class ships? That's the starship version of the red shirted security guy, right? > A small portion of the Collective >watched as their Queen took them on a romp through Federation >space. Crow: A *romp*?!? Mike: Yeah, you know - a spree. Tom: A gambol. Mike: A revelry. Tom: A frolicsome cavorting. > There had to be some way they could regain some >small amount of control over her, but direct confrontation was >too dangerous. The ones that placed the odd recall program in >the Queen's consciousness may be able to help regain control, >or destroy it entirely. Tom: Yep, the Collective's bitten off more than it can chew, this time! > At any rate, the best solution was to >wait for an opportunity. The Borg continued to hop from >system to system, intimidating the locals, Mike: Darn you Duke boys! Crow: "Intimidating the locals"? What are they, the Borga Nostra all of a sudden? Tom: [Borg] We are the Borg. 'Ow many tanks you got 'ere, colonel? > while making a >beeline for Earth. > Mike: Or, in this case, Borgline. Tom: Ernest Borgline? Mike: Ha ha. Funny, Tom. > The small remainder of Earth's starships warped away from >Omicron Theta, driven by the desire to fight for their homes. >If the Earth were to fall, then the Federation would crumble. Crow: Again, humans are the center of everything, aren't they Mike? Mike: Leave me out of this. > The Borg would assimilate everything, and everyone. Tom: So the Borg are blind to the fact that the hand they hold is the hand that holds them down? Mike: Why won't they ever learn? > Jaw set >in firm determination, Tom: After massive dental surgery. > Jay ordered Red Alert. Mike: Then, just in case, he ordered Counterstrike and Aftermath too. > The last of Earth's defenders were gathered at >lunar orbit. The group included the ships from Omicron Theta, >the USS Nova and five Excelsior class ships, with three Galaxy >class vessels to assist them. Older ships manned by Data's >androids also made appearances. Tom: Otherwise known as slave ships! > There were Miranda-classes, >Oberths, Constellations that were half way through the >transformation to the Stargazer class, and Ambassadors. Crow: Yes, Shirley Temple Black is leading the attack on the Borg. >Another Klingon detachment was lent to the Federation, >consisting of two Vor'cha class battle cruisers, Crow: Oh, no! It really is a Babylon 5 crossover! Mike: That's 'Vorlons', Crow. > and ten Birds >of Prey. Mike: So while Stephen loves reciting names & ranks, Ron like to tick off ships & ship classes. > In total, there was thirty five ships meeting at Earth. Crow: I thought they were down to just 7 ships. Tom: Eh, starships are like paper clips - they multiply when you're not looking. >The orbital defences were armed and ready for battle, with >Quantum Torpedo launchers and phaser banks mounted on >communication and survey satellites. Crow: Ah, remnants of the Soviet space program. > The Borg came in with little attempt to conceal themselves. Tom: Though two of them did disguise themselves as fuzzy dice. >The fleet attacked with the weapons they had available. >Phasers raked the dark black hulls of the Borg vessels, >without any retaliation. The cubes sat there absorbing the >punishment, Crow: They were starting to enjoy it, actually. Mike: I beg of you, Crow, don't go to that place! > as if they were mocking the Federation craft. The >Enterprise angled into an attack pattern. Crow: Sigh. Mike: Sigh. Tom: Sigh. > "Helm, initiate plan Beta two three niner. Shayna, aim the >Quantum torpedoes and get ready to fire on my mark." Jay >started to put the plan into action. The Enterprise began a >gradual curve that would put them directly towards the exhaust >port. Crow: Where they would shove a banana up the tailpipe. > The target cube rotated along the Y-axis on the screen, >as the port came into range. Off to the left, a Miranda >vessel was caught in a tractor beam, while cutting lasers >sliced the Ambassador class USS Arkansas into titanium >confetti. Mike [Bill] You're sure you shredded all the evidence, Hillary? Crow: [Hillary] Trust me! > The port seemed to grow to fill the screen as the >Enterprise set up a crippling shot. > Mike: Jim beam, everclear, and Robitussin! > "Steady, steady" Jay repeated, as the side of the cube grew >in size. "Fire phasers." Jay ordered. The energy beams >streaked from their banks, Tom: Then the exploding ink-packs detonated and stained the loot. > trying to mask the Enterprise's >true intent. The Borg took sparse notice of Marrissa's former >ship, as if it was little more than an insect. Crow: [Observer voice] You are as an amoeba to us! > "FIRE!!!!!" Jay screamed in a mix of anger and joy. Crow: The same way he'd said "I do" at the wedding. > The torpedo streaked from the launcher to the shaft. Mike: Great shot kid! That was one in a million! Tom: ENOUGH STAR WARS REFS ALREADY! > Immersing >themselves with dealing with the fleet, the Borg barely saw >the torpedo fling into the vent. On the Bridge of the >Enterprise, the crew held their breath. Seconds stretched >into minutes as the torpedo moved along it's intended path. Mike: Ah, this must be the Federation's new "Slow Detonation" torpedo! > Not truly caring of the attempt on their ship, the Borg >continued to slash open Federation vessels. The victim of the >torpedo managed to put away two Miranda class cruisers, along >with a Galaxy class frigate. Tom: So, the USS Enterprise-D was a *frigate*? Mike: And the Miranda class, which is smaller, is a cruiser? Tom: Starfleet's ship classification system seems a tad odd. > A Borg Drone maintenancing the >waste pumping systems noticed an odd increase in the alloy >temperature. Tom: Since no one noticed the torpedo going down the stupid shaft . . > Sending a notice to the ship centre point, the >drone began scanning to try and discern the cause. The >solution was found when the torpedo broke through the pump >casing, and promptly detonated. Mike: Yep, that'll do it. > A ball of fire expanded from >the waste disposal, igniting the gases in the Borg atmosphere. >As each of the pockets of gas became patches of fire, >organic parts of the Borg became the same texture as burnt >marshmallows. > Mike: There's a Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man joke here somewhere, but it just ain't happening for me. > The fleet cheered as pyrotechnics erupted from the >jet black cube. Crow: If the Borg would just paint their cubes red, they'd go much faster. > There was only a single cube standing between >victory and the Federation fleet. Judging from the damage the >phasers were doing, Marrissa was on the last cube. Mike: They also thought that due to the fact that that cube was inscribing "I lost to a bunch of Borg" on the side of the ships that it defeated. Tom: Standard Star Trek logic: The main characters are always on the last ship left. > Marrissa watched during the Enterprise's >assassination of her ship. Tom: Assassination? Mike: Someone used a thesaurus. >Fires of rage burned within her. They would all serve her, >they would all become drones. Crow: So she'll marry them and make them like Jay . . . > Then, at her whim, they would die. Tom: In other words, same plan as always. Crow: She needed to be a Borg for this to happen? Mike: You know, is there any real difference between Marrissa as a non-Borg or Marrissa as a Borg? Crow: Not really. Except for that black bodysuit. > The remaining ships needed to be out of the way. The cube >was taking a pounding even as she was thinking, and the >Enterprise could be seen lining up for another attack, this >time on her ships exhaust vent. There must be some >way to defend that weak point, and still destroy the fleet. >The Collective debated, Crow: Tastes Great! Tom: Less Filling! Crow: Tastes Great! Tom: Less Filling! > then decided on a course of action for >her ship. Crow: Um, didn't it occur to anyone that once they took out one ship like that, then *just might* other might adapt? I mean, them being Borg and everything... Mike: You're talking about the Ratliff StarFleet here, Crow - their motto is "One Thing at a Time". > Jay was positive when the Borg ship swung to face his ship, Mike: It's a cube. It's armed on all sides. Why would it need to spin? >the game had caught up with him at last. The Borg didn't stop >spinning, in fact, they built up speed. Soon it was swirling >on all of its axis like a gyroscope, with increasing speed. Mike: Killing everyone inside due to tremendous centrifugal forces. Tom: Gatchaman! Crow: Or else the Borg are getting ready to use the Death Blossom. > The fleet momentarily hesitated, but then continued to >fire phasers into the swirling vessel. Not putting any faith >into their "invulnerability", the Borg swiped at any vessels >that were in range with the lasers. The blue beams of light >slashed into the few android manned vessels. One last android >manned Miranda was neutralised with an EMP burst, so the Borg >could return and assimilate them at a later date. Mike: Assimilate-On Dating. Your indicator of how fresh your assimalations are. > Klingon ships >were the next to go, as two tractor beams grabbed hold of the >bow and stern of a Bird of Prey, Tom: Howard Stern? > then pulled in two opposite >directions. With only two Galaxies, an Ambassador, the >Enterprise, the Kirk, and a Defiant left, the Federation >fought with what little hope they had left. Stopping its mad >spin, the Borg once again moved at Impulse Tom: So, they bounced around hyperkinetically while accompanied by an aged mentor? > speed to Earth. >Phasers licked at its heels, and Quantum Torpedoes lit the >night. Mike: Ah, like Marrissa doing a Schwarzenegger earlier. Tom: I suppose it'll have to do for continuity. > Tiring of the game, Marrissa took control to the >penetrating rays and sliced them through the Galaxy class >Cruisers pursuing her. The Ambassador and Defiant were >dismantled with equal ease by the web of blue blasts. > Mike: See "Web of Blue Blasts" with "Dingos ate my Baby", "Opie Gone Bad" and "The Cat Made Contact" live at the Paramount! [Announcer Voice] Sponsored by KBCO. > Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard had seen countless >battles, endless diplomatic functions, met innumerous races, Mike: And he did so irregardless of whether they were inflammable. Tom: Here's a hint, Rob - if you're gonna make up words, make up ones that make sense, for crying out loud! >and was subjected to the horrors of assimilation. Crow: But he had yet to meet Bob Sagat. > Never before >had he felt so dismal, an entire fleet wiped out. The brave >men, women along with all the innocent children that couldn't >be gotten off the ships. All of them now were frozen pieces >of meat floating in space. Mike: How... disturbing... Crow: What, Picard's going to open a deli after this is all over? Tom: StarFleet - it's what's for dinner. > A message came in from Earth, and >was put on screen. Captain Beverly Picard's face looked >satisfied when she spoke to her husband. Crow: How's the battle honey? Did you biff it again? > "Jean-Luc, the Trinity, the Pasteur and the Intrepids you >lent us have gathered as many people off Earth that we can. >We're almost over flowing, but we managed to get a million >people out. There's still lots left over, though." Crow: Okay, so the earth's population today is - Mike: About 6, 7 billion, give or take. Crow: And by the 24th century, it'll probably be up around - Tom: Even with colonization and emigration, probably about 20 billion. Crow: And they managed to get a *million* people off? How? Lottery? Random choice? People who owe Beverly money? Tom: Yeah, and how do you hold back the unlucky ones? Mike: I'm betting the ones left behind are the Induhviduals. > Beverly >announced. "Have we beaten them back yet?" Seeing the grey >look on his face, she mirrored it. Tom: [as Picard] Stop it! Crow: [as Beverly] Stop it! Tom: [as Picard] Stop repeating everything I say! Crow: [as Beverly] Stop repeating everything I say! > "The Borg have destroyed the fleet. Only the Enterprise >and the Kirk are left. We're going to try and dispatch the >last one with the exhaust vent attack." Jean-Luc looked his >wife in the eyes before he went on. Crow: I'm sorry it's the only plan we can come up with. Oh, and is this a bad time to tell you I'm seeing another woman? > " In case we don't make it out, I just want you to know, I >..." Mike: [Picard] ...Am still waiting for that Minoxidil you promised. > The last words never got out. The computer terminal >fogged over with static, obscuring the message. Tom: Damn you Borg! I wanted closure on that scene! > "Oh, am I interrupting?" came a mocking voice. Crow: Q! [pause] Well, that's usually who the mocking voice is. > Marrissa's >visage appeared on the screen. "It looks like you've lost, >Locutus. Your fleet is destroyed, and your homeworld is about >to fall. Soon the Federation will know the order of the Borg." Mike: [Borg] We are the Borg. We will have eleven billion Whoppers, 3 billion without tomato, 9 billion fries, 14 billion cokes, and a vanilla shake. Crow: And supersize it. > "Marrissa, look inside yourself. The human part of you >still knows that you will not win." Picard attempted to grab >at an opportunity. Mike: [Picard] Uh . . . oh yeah? >"Think of what would happen if you did win. Tom: [Marrissa] Oh, I *am*, baby - I AM!!! > Countless families >would be subjected to a fate worse than death. You would be >responsible for it. Could you really live with that knowledge? >Could you live with killing off the resisting forces, knowing >that your husband and child were with them?" Crow: [Marrissa] So what's your point? > "Your logic is unclear. To us the masses would not be >killed, they will be added to the Collective. Their energies >will be put towards more fruitful uses. They will help us >attain perfection." The Queen argued. Crow: I blame Pat Buchanan for this. > "At what cost?" Picard retorted. "You want to strip >them of feelings and emotions. How do you know that won't >destroy the perfection you expect to achieve?" Mike: A good point, but I think his move is still to bore her to death. > Marrissa seemed to be momentarily lost in thought. Crow: Ah, unfamiliar territory. >The collective recalled many of the races that they had >assimilated. There had been many creatures with high >emotions, such as love, hate, sympathy, Mike: And appreciation for Garth Brooks music. > and it >was nearly their destruction. "Emotions have been proven to >be counterproductive." The stone-hard face responded. Mike: Marrissa only knows about emotions second hand, however. > "Oh, really?" Picard smiled, he'd caught her. "If >emotions are irrelevant to the Borg, why do you feel them? >You are drowned in hate, desires that are not your own. Mike: o/~ She's a brick and she's drowning slowly... o/~ > If you >feel these emotions, then you are counterproductive to the >Borg. You must be removed." Crow: Score one for the Pic-man here! Tom: Well, Rob may not have seen "Disaster", but he's obviously seen "The Changeling". > Rage danced across Marrissa's face, then halted. >"Perhaps you are correct, Locutus. Crow: As a side note, I always assumed that they picked Picard to assimilate just because his head is easier to attach stuff to. > You would be valuable to >have back in the Collective. Your knowledge and abilities >would have greatly aided us. I will destroy you in a moment." Crow: Oh, let me put that in my scheduler. >The screen went blank. Mike: The Borg's screen saver must be activating. > Picard couldn't believe he'd just signed >his death warrant. Marching out to the Bridge, Picard ordered >the Tactical to fire all the Quantum torpedoes at the exhaust >port when the cube stopped. The torpedoes streaked away, Tom: Look at that, look at that. > and a >content smile came across Picard's face. Just then, a Borg >disrupter lanced into the port nacelle. The resulting >plasma feed back caused an explosion that killed off every >last crew member, and annihilated the Kirk. > [Once again, balloons and confetti fall from the ceiling of the theater. By now, the balloons are noticeably deep. Mike and the bots dance around again.] Crow: Hey, Marrissa! I know where Wesley is hiding! Tom: Whoa! Mike: So he killed off Picard? Crow: Well, Ratliff DID waste Riker once. Tom: Cool. For once, we get to leave on a happy note! [The trio exits the theater.]