Trek It! Part One:

 

Trek This!

 

A Parody Tribute To Past and Future Treks

 

 

"I have a creation in mind." Baldy smiled as he forced Red's sword back with his own. "The creation of a bloody stump where thy head 'twas once affixed."

Red shook as she struggled to press back Baldy's blade. "Thou wilt not takest my head nor my kingdom! Mine knights shall repel thy foul rebellion!"

Red tossed her fiery scarlet tresses and gazed across the castle's throne room. Her knights, as expected, fought Baldy's troops with savage grace, easily triumphing over superior numbers.

Baldy leaned forward, torchlight gleaming on his hairless scalp. "Thy knights wilt beg to surrender once my dragon gets done with them!"

"Dragon?" said Red.

When Baldy laughed, his sonorous voice boomed through the throne room. "Have a look, thou fallen queen! E'en now, he charges forth upon the battleground!"

Suddenly, a new figure burst into the chamber, spinning a huge, curved blade in one hand and a blazing torch in the other. Within seconds, he had Sir Beardnik and Sir Mannequin both at bay, scrambling to fend off his blindingly fast assault of steel and flame.

"He breathes fire, does he not?" Baldy said with a chuckle. "He couldst massacre any traditional dragon any day of the week."

As Red watched, Dragon roared and struck a mighty blow with his sword against Sir Beardnik, driving him to the floor. At the same time, Dragon lunged at Sir Mannequin with the flaming torch, barely missing his expressionless face.

Red ached to run to the aid of her knights, but she had to give her full attention to Baldy. He was inches away from killing her--and, therefore, taking her throne and kingdom.

"Yield!" said Baldy, pressing harder with his sword.

Red gathered her strength and surged forward, breaking her sword free and sending Baldy stumbling backward. "How many times do we have to do this? How many times is enough?"

Baldy regained his footing and unleashed a flurry of strikes with his sword. "Art thou weary of this conflict, then?"

Red parried his every thrust and slash. "I take the kingdom, you take it away, I take it back, you take it away again. Who wouldn't be weary?"

"I promise, thy fight shall be brief." Baldy grinned, then called out over the clash of steel. "Four-Eyes! Hast thou captured the Princess yet?"

"Yes!" said Baldy's ally, Four-Eyes the wizard.

Red locked her sword with Baldy's and looked toward the voice. She saw Four-Eyes, complete with magic all-seeing spectacles, holding the kingdom's dark-haired princess in a bear hug.

The hug didn't last. As Red watched, Princess stomped on Four-Eyes' foot. With a shout of pain, Four-Eyes released her--and Princess plunged both elbows into his sides.

"I mean no!" said Four-Eyes as he doubled over.

"We shall not surrender, my queen!" Princess scooped up a fallen soldier's sword and ran to Sir Beardnik's side. "In thy name, we shall defend this blessed kingdom of Ni!"

"And then what?" With a surge of angry might, Red forced Baldy's sword away and shoved him to the floor. "Do it all again, only I get to be the rebel leader, and Mannequin's the king?"

Mannequin ducked Dragon's swooping torch, then popped back up and cocked his head to one side. "Didst someone die and makest me king?"

"Enough!" Red hurled her sword to the stone floor with an echoing clang. "I say 'tis time for a change!"

"I'm with thou!" said Sir Beardnik, punching his sword skyward. "Let us maketh that change, fellow lords and ladies!"

"And dragons," roared Dragon.

"Wait!" said Red. "Let's make sure we're on the same page before we..."

Her sentence went unfinished as the castle and everyone in it flashed out of existence.

 

*****

 

When Red opened her eyes, she found herself staring at someone's shiny purple tights.

Looking up, she saw that the tights belonged to Beardnik. On his chest, he wore a silver number--a wildly stylized "one" framed in a lemon yellow oval. His eyes looked out from a purple domino mask, and a yellow cape fluttered about his shoulders.

His hands were planted on his hips as he smiled down at her. "Foiled again, eh, Doctor Calamity?"

Only when Red looked down at herself did she realize that she was wearing a costume, too--black tights with a red letter "C" on the chest.

So now she knew what change had come over them. No longer were they heroes and villains in shining armor making war in the Middle Ages.

Now, they were super-powered heroes and villains in tights and capes, making war in the twentieth century.

In other words, more of the same.

"Listen," said Red. "We have to talk."

Before Beardnik could reply, twin beams of crackling bright blue energy struck his chest. The beams hoisted him off his feet and hauled him forward, whisking him away from Red at a high rate of speed.

Turning, Red saw Four-Eyes, howling with laughter as blue beams from his eyes reeled in Beardnik. "How do ya like my tractor vision?" With that, Four-Eyes snapped his head and shut off the beams, sending Beardnik flying across the street.

Beardnik cried out as he collided with a truck, hitting the trailer with such force that it flipped over on its side.

While brakes screeched and cars skidded to avoid the wreckage, Four-Eyes strolled over to Red. "One down, three to go," he said, patting the big, gold "G" on the chest of his green tights. "Thanks to the incredible Gazer."

"This wasn't the change I had in mind," said Red. "It's good versus evil all over again."

Four-Eyes took her hand and helped her up. "But you're evil this time."

Red held on to his hand and gazed into the glowing, pearlescent eyes behind his horn-rimmed goggles. "This can't go on forever," she said. "Please help me make it stop."

"Sure, Doc." Four-Eyes' smile turned into a gleeful sneer. "Just as soon as we conquer the world, all right?"

Before Red could say another word, Four-Eyes spun and unleashed twin blasts of energy from his eyes, one yellow, one red. The beams splashed against the riveted ankle of a scowling robotic monstrosity--Mannequin, plated with bronze metal and grown to over five times his normal height.

"Surrender." The rampaging robot's words boomed like dynamite explosions, one after another. "In the name of the Fleet of Heroes, I command you!"

"Fat chance, Metallico!" Four-Eyes tweaked knobs on the sides of his goggles and charged toward the giant robot. Blazing rays of white energy lashed from his eyes as he ran, scorching a path across Mannequin's shin.

Mannequin's head tipped to one side. "It is true that my mass has increased," he said, "but I would hardly say that I am fat."

With that, Mannequin bent down and scooped up Four-Eyes in one giant fist. As Mannequin lifted him high in the air, Four-Eyes continued to fire a rainbow of energy beams from his goggles in every direction.

"Strangely enough, I now find myself curious about the human experience of being overweight. You might say that I am hungry to fatten myself up at this moment." Mannequin opened his metal mouth wide and raised Four-Eyes toward it. Even as Mannequin's monstrous yellow tongue rolled out, Four-Eyes kept firing away with his optic beams.

Then, Mannequin dropped him on his tongue, reeled him in, and closed his mouth.

Red glared and rubbed her temples. Normally, she would have run to her teammate's aid and used her power to free him. In fact, she still felt the urge to lose herself in the game...but the drive to break the cycle of violence was stronger.

Turning, Red saw another chance to change the pattern. Two familiar figures faced her--Princess and Dragon. Both wore identical navy blue costumes with orange gloves and boots. Each costume had a huge orange letter on the chest--"T" for Princess, "W" for Dragon.

"You're under arrest!" said Princess, her long, black locks flowing in the breeze.

"By the Fleet of Heroes!" said Dragon.

Then, the two of them shot their fists in the air. Their knuckles crashed together with a mighty crack and a flare of golden light.

"Thunder Twin powers...reactivate!" they both said at the same time.

"Taking the form of a saber-toothed tiger!" said Princess.

"And the shape of a hurricane from Hell!" said Dragon.

Red stepped back as the two began to shift into the new forms their powers had created. Their bodies flashed and swirled and transmuted, endowing them with monstrous new potential.

And then, a giant, reptilian foot plunged down and crushed them both.

Shielding her eyes from the sun, Red gazed upward, climbing the glistening green scales of the skyscraping creature ever higher. It had the body of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, only ten times as massive as a Tyrannosaurus should have been. When Red's gaze finally reached the head, she saw that its face was human, its features recognizable.

Its scalp utterly bare.

It was Baldy, transformed into the most enormous monster on the battlefield.

"Cower before Baldzilla!" Baldy's voice blasted through the city streets like the roar of an erupting volcano. "Bow down before your master! The lizard-king lives!"

Suddenly, Red had had enough. Anger roiled inside her, churning and burning and gathering steam.

"Stop it!" she said, shouting up at Baldy's towering new form. "We need a change!"

Baldzilla swung his mighty arm through the middle of the Empire State Building. "Break it so!" He plucked Metallico like a toy from the street and hurled him into the stratosphere.

"Listen to me!" Red stomped up to Baldy's giant toe and punched it. "This isn't how we're supposed to be!"

"Enrage!" said Baldzilla as he hauled back his enormous foot and kicked Red out of the city. Spinning, she shot beyond the skyline, swiftly shrinking with distance, disappearing over the horizon.

Baldy howled with triumph, shattering every window in town with his deafening bellows. That was when Red demonstrated her true super-power.

She was a human boomerang. Throw her away, and she'd come right back, stronger than ever.

Baldy wasn't looking when Red flashed back over the horizon and swooped across the city toward him. He was so busy trumpeting his victory that he didn't know she was about to plow into him at hundreds of miles an hour.

That was why Baldy didn't even try to swat her aside. She hit him in the head like a missile, then leaped away as he started to sway.

Baldzilla crashed down like a toppling redwood, knocking down rows of buildings like dominoes. Smoke and dust billowed into the air, then settled around his fallen, colossal bulk.

Red darted over and landed on his titanic snout. "As I was saying, it's time we made a change."

"I agree," said Baldy.

"We need to put an end to this meaningless conflict," said Red. "We need to get back in touch with our true natures."

"I couldn't agree more," said Baldy, just as everything around them winked off like the blown-out candles on a birthday cake.

 

*****

 

The next thing Red knew, she was gazing into the glittering darkness of space.

Quickly, she realized that she was looking at a huge video screen. Turning away from it, she looked in the opposite direction--and instantly felt a sense of great ease.

This wasn't like being in a castle, or a super-hero streetfight, or a pirate ship or World War I or an Old West town. This was different. This felt right.

This time, she had awakened aboard a spaceship.

Red took a deep breath of the sweet, cool air and ran her fingers over the smooth, white bulkhead. One word came to mind as she looked around at the spacious room--all curves and light and polish--in which she'd appeared.

"Home." Beardnik said it with a roguish grin as he walked past.

"Yes." Red nodded and drifted around the circular perimeter. Her memory was hazy about many things, but this much was crystal clear. "Home it is."

Three chairs rested in the middle of the room, facing the video screen. Baldy, now wearing a red and white jumpsuit instead of Baldzilla scales, sat in the chair on the far end. Princess, in a blue and white jumpsuit, sat in the center seat and crossed her legs--then met Baldy's gaze with a frown. Without a word, they got up and switched places.

As soon as Baldy's bottom hit the center seat, he released a deep sigh and visibly relaxed.

"We have been here before." As Mannequin said it, he gazed at the multicolored lights blinking on a low-mounted control panel. "Why does this make me think of...a litter box?"

"But where is the battle?" Dragon stomped across the carpet, then jumped back as a door slid open in front of him. Tentatively, he crept through the doorway, looking hard in every direction. "There is a very strange water-breathing creature in a glass tank," he said from inside. "Perhaps this hideous lifeform is the threat I have been seeking."

"This place isn't about battle." Four-Eyes slid his hand along a gleaming, wood-grained rail arching over the three center seats. "Not always, at least. Isn't that right, computer?"

"Affirmative," said a woman's voice that seemed to come from all around the room.

Dragon leaped through the doorway from the side-room, glaring fiercely. "Did I just hear the voice of an enemy?"

Everyone laughed.

"This is what I've been trying to tell you," said Red. "When was the last time we stopped fighting?"

"Well...," said Mannequin, and then he cocked his head to one side. "It seems I cannot remember."

"Neither can I," said Beardnik, "but it feels like forever."

"We've fought so long, we've nearly forgotten who we really are." Red stood between Baldy and Princess and took their hands. "We're forgotten how to be friends. More than friends." Her heart pounded as she looked around at all of them. "Family."

"Oh, puh-leeze." Suddenly, a new voice, a man's voice, filled the room. "Somebody get me a barf bag."

A flash of light exploded in the middle of the room. Red let go of Baldy and Princess' hands and turned.

Immediately, Red recognized the new arrival. He wore a huge red hat and long black robes brocaded with gold. The look on his face was one of undisguised contempt.

The name that came to mind was Royal Pain.

"I don't believe you people." Royal Pain planted his red-gloved fists on his black-robed hips. "Are you really this limited?"

Baldy slowly rose from his center seat and approached Royal Pain. "Of course," said Baldy. "I should have known this was your doing."

"I gathered up your souls after you died. I even made a soul for the toy soldier here." Royal Pain jabbed a finger in Mannequin's direction.

Mannequin tipped his head and stared. "Earth religious traditions mention a demonic entity who gathers the souls of the dead. He is sometimes referred to as Satan."

"So is he." Four-Eyes hiked a thumb over his shoulder at Royal Pain.

"I saved you from oblivion," said Royal Pain. "In honor of our long...what's the word? Relationship?"

"Nightmare," said Beardnik.

"Disaster," said Four-Eyes.

"Infection?" said Red.

"Association." Royal Pain smiled grimly. "In honor of that, I brought you here, to my continuity. I gave you the power to reshape reality, to create endless new roles and adventures.

"I gave you the chance to create something different, to feel something new." Royal Pain shook his head. "And again and again, you end up in the same place.

"Here." Royal Pain spread his arms wide. "On the Good Ship Lollipop."

Baldy rubbed the back of his neck and looked pensive. "How long?" he said. "How long since we've been...gone?"

"I brought the last of you here twenty years ago to the day," said Royal Pain. "At least as you understand time...which is about as well as an amoeba understands chess."

"That depends," said Beardnik. "Is it a giant space amoeba?"

"And we're not meeting your expectations?" said Baldy.

"My expectations...yes." Royal Pain shrugged. "My hopes, no." Light flared around him again, and when it subsided, he was wearing the same kind of red and white jumpsuit as Baldy. "In our many--interactions--during your lives, I thought I saw a glimmer of potential. Freed of your physical encumbrances and given the proper encouragement, I thought that maybe, just maybe, you could make something of yourselves.

"But you're too attached to your past lives. You keep gravitating to the same cheap props and spandex and special effects." Royal Pain waved his hands as if he were chucking the lot of them out an airlock. "You've been a real buzzkill, if you know what I mean."

"No," said Mannequin. "I do not."

"Neither do I, but I like the kill part." Dragon growled and sneered.

Baldy tugged on the front of his jumpsuit to straighten it. "If we've been such a disappointment to you," he said, "why not send us back?"

Royal Pain sighed. "Believe me, I wish I could." Clasping his hands behind his back, he paced across the floor. "Even I have limits. If I sent you back, you would be dead."

"Maybe death would be better than endless, meaningless conflict," said Princess.

"Yes! Today is a good day to..." Dragon stopped, frowned, and shook his head hard. "What am I saying? I do not wish to die!"

Red stepped forward. "Maybe there's another alternative."

Royal Pain stopped pacing and stared at her. "I'm sorry. Shouldn't you be lancing a boil or something?"

"Think bigger," said Red.

Royal Pain's head swiftly expanded to ten times its original size. "Done and done."

"Give us more," said Red. "Give us a real challenge." Spreading her arms, she turned in a circle. "Why do you think we keep coming back here? What do you think this place is really about?"

Red punched Royal Pain in the arm. "Challenge," she said. "And the challenge must fit the challenger.

"Now that you've made us more than we were, the challenge we face must be greater." Red met Royal Pain's gaze and focused all her will on getting through to him. "And what was the challenge we faced in our past lives? The universe itself."

Royal Pain glared, and for a moment, Red worried that her plea might backfire. Then, the glare melted into a smile of fiendish inspiration.

"The universe, eh?" Royal Pain nodded. "Maybe you're onto something." With that, he cupped his hands together, and they started to glow.

"What are you planning?" said Baldy.

"A new challenge," said Royal Pain. "How would you like your own universe?"

"Who wouldn't?" said Beardnik.

"To what end?" said Baldy.

"Leave it to you to look a gift horse in the butt." A patch of inky shadow and glittering cloud swirled in Royal Pain's hands. "Look, are you happy with the current universe? With everything in it?

"Why not try to do better?" Royal Pain parted his hands, and the swirling patch of light and dark grew bigger. "Why not design a more perfect universe, a universe you can believe in?"

"I like it." Beardnik approached and gazed into the swirling patch. "But why haven't you done this yourself?"

"Who says I haven't?" Royal Pain rolled his eyes from side to side and nodded slowly, encompassing the universe around them. "But seriously," he said, "it takes special souls to make something truly worthwhile."

"We know all about that," said Red, throwing her arms around Beardnik and Baldy's shoulders.

The rest of the group converged on Royal Pain, gathering close to watch the expanding sphere of a newborn universe pulse and swirl between his hands.

"Well?" Royal Pain sounded annoyed. "Are you going to do this or what?"

"Of course." Red slid a hand into the swirling sphere. "Who else is in the game?"

Beardnik followed her lead. "Deal me in."

"I'll play a hand." Four-Eyes reached into the sphere after Red and Beardnik.

"I'm feeling lucky," said Princess as she added her hand to the mix.

Mannequin also reached into the growing matrix. "I will sweeten the pot."

"I will raise you all," said Dragon as he plunged his hand in after the others.

That left only one of them on the outside.

"What are you waiting for?" said Royal Pain. "Why must you always be difficult?"

Baldy stared into the glittering, whirling sphere. "This will take all of us?"

"Yes, you spit-polished nincompoop!" said Royal Pain. "As you well know, it takes seven stars to make a new creation."

Baldy smirked. "Then by all means," he said, "let's put all our cards on the table!"

With that, he plunged both his hands into the newborn universe.

And a blinding flash of light engulfed them all.

 

*****

 

One trillion years later...

Quillid Fason opened the window of his spaceship, the Prisenter, and stared into the twinkling white distance.

The sweet, fresh air of outer space caressed the ever-changing flickerflesh of Fason's face as he frowned. He had hoped that sticking his head out the window might give him new insight...but looking directly at the star patterns seemed to be no more helpful than looking at them on a viewer inside the ship had been.

The Prisenter was still lost.

Suddenly, his copilot, Angla Runch, popped up beside him. As bad as their situation was, she still had a big smile on her shimmering, kaleidoscopic face. "Some of the greatest discoveries happen when people are lost, you know."

"We're the first of our kind to travel in space," said Fason. "If we get lost and don't return home, they might never send out another ship. It could mean the end of space travel for our people."

"Think positive," said Angla. "We're still alive, right? The ship was knocked off-course by a flock of stargeese, but it wasn't damaged, was it?"

"That's true." Fason heard the melodic cries of stargeese echoing in the reaches of space, mingled with the chiming, booming songs of solar whales and the howls of racing warp-dogs.

"We have enough supplies to last a while, right?" said Angla. "And when those run out, we can harvest star-manna and wild ambrosia from passing asteroids. So what's the worst that can happen?"

"We stay lost forever." Fason gazed into the whiteness of space, watching the multicolored gem-stars glitter and flash. "We'll be doomed to wander forever, drifting through the endless universe without a home or reason to live."

"That won't happen," said Angla. "We'll find our way."

Fason sighed as he watched the unfamiliar constellations dance around them. "You really think so?"

"It'll all work out." Angla patted his back. "After all, they're looking out for us."

"Who's that?" said Fason.

Angla pointed a finger at a bright violet star that was off to one side and far away. "There's one of them." She moved her finger to another star, a blue one, that was up a little higher. "And there."

Next, Angla pointed at a green star, and a pink one. "Another and another." A gold one and a silver one. "There and there." Finally, she showed him a red one, glowing warm and serene in a distant corner of the ivory sky. "And there."

Fason scowled, eyes darting between the stars she'd pointed out. "I don't believe it." All along, he'd been looking right at them, but he was used to seeing them from his homeworld. Now that he was deeper in space, seeing the stars from a different angle, the constellation they formed was nearly unrecognizable.

Except to someone like Angla, who saw things from a different point of view all the time.

"It's them." Fason put an arm around Angla's shoulder and gave her a squeeze. "The Seven Great Stars."

"They'll take care of us," said Angla. "They'll guide us home."

"Yes." A single tear slid down Fason's flickering cheek. "They always do."

 

*****

 

Star Trick:

The Slow-Motion Picture

 

“Frglsnit, korfu kindar mikt!” snarled the angry Pingpong leader, strangling several bridge crew as he spoke.

“Mikar filok singlak DOM!” shouted his first officer in reply, quickly ducking beneath his station as the commander approached.

The commander was shocked. A furious growl echoed deep in his throat. “DOM? DOM? Meenork Tiktac! Grok!!!” Without hesitation, he drew the meat cleaver hanging from his belt and hacked the first officer to shreds. “DOM?!” He then went on a rampage, systematically severing the heads and bodies of the remainder of his bridge crew.

As a new crew shuffled fearfully onto the bridge, the Pingpong leader again turned to stare at the viewscreen. On it appeared the cause of the leader’s anger, a huge, black thundercloud floating ominously through space. The cloud rumbled fiercely, and incredibly huge lightning bolts arched from its hovering dark body. Framed against its imposing, powerful bulk, the other two ships of the Pingpong Imperial Fleet resembled tiny, bald trubbles from Charmin’s Planet. The cloud was terrifying, and made even more so by the huge, nasty grin stretching across its malignant surface.

“Laftrak mikle martor scrapple,” muttered the leader, turning from the screen to his new first officer. “Ecuador scritch scratch rubik smurf?”

The first officer gulped audibly, slowly tightened his safety helmet, and answered the leader’s question. “Porker fallout miktar scoobydoo. Dom-dom-dom.”

Enraged at his answer, the leader whirled, booted him in the teeth and casually threw him out a porthole. He then turned to his weapons officer, who had already scrambled hastily underneath his station.

“Parsley haddock disco nixon,” he commanded, pointing to the cloud displayed on the screen. “Sweathog!”

At his command, twin beams of concentrated water spurted outward from the massive squirt-cannons mounted on the ship. Their target, the enormous thundercloud, simply hovered in space, awaiting the beams’ arrival, its immense, morbid grin growing noticeably wider.

“Kaymart,” mumbled the Pingpong leader, rubbing his hands together nervously, using them to pummel several engineers insensate. “Kaymart roebuck...” He anxiously watched the viewscreen, where the deadly Pingpong squirt-beams had almost reached their target.

Then, suddenly, just as the beams were about to strike, the cloud’s grinning maw began to open up. When the beams finally reached the cloud, they were swallowed up by its enormous, cavernous excuse for a mouth. The sight of the massive, monstrous cloud-lips closing behind their all-powerful squirt-beams reduced the Pingpong crew, already quaking in fear from their commander, who was starting another tantrum, to blobs of quivering jelly.

When the cloud’s mouth opened again, displaying for all to see its massive, shining bridgework and horrendous overbite, the Pingpong crew, whatever was left of it after the commander finished his rampage, lapsed into senseless whimpering. This time, the cloud had opened its maw in response to squirt beams fired from the other two vessels of the Pingpong fleet. Again, it swallowed up the beams, but this time it also began moving; swiftly, it overtook the Pingpong craft, and within a split second, had effortlessly devoured them as well.

For a moment, all was silent on the sole remaining Pingpong ship; then, terribly, ominously, a piercing, disgusting belch rang out over the vessel’s audio amplifiers. On the screen, the huge, amorphous cloud/thing slowly licked its lips.

“Dom,” stammered the Pingpong leader, exhausted after having decapitated and castrated his entire crew in a final fit of fury. “Brahms kraft endive septic dom. Dom.” For an instant, he looked defeated, beaten, and broken. Two of his three ships were gone, his crew was dead, and the smiling cloud was again advancing on his lone vessel. Tears welled in his eyes. Then he was freaking again, ripping angrily with his bare hands into the bleeping, sputtering control panels filling the bridge, kicking in the viewscreen, tearing out huge sections of the walls with his teeth.

 

*****

 

“Commander Blanch, we are receiving a top priority message,” reported Lootenant Biltwell, communications officer of the deep space station Epsilot Deadwood. “It’s from the Pingpongs sir.”

Commander Blanch, Deadwood’s captain and standup comedian, whirled around in utter shock, tripping over an extension cord and ramming his skull into a bulkhead in the process. “The Pingpongs, Biltwell? The last time they called us was to make ugly faces at the Fodderation Council. The blackguards, they hung up when they couldn’t transfer the charges.” Blanch snarled in remembrance. “Oh well, put it on the screen, Lootenant.”

Biltwell flicked a switch and the viewscreen on the Deadwood’s bridge flared to life. On it, a pattern of lines appeared, straight, vertical lines of varying thickness which filled the entire screen and marched across it in a continuous flow. For a moment, Blanch stared, flabbergasted at the mysterious signal playing across the viewscreen. Then, realization hit him, and he quickly moved to deliver a swift kick to Biltwell’s control panel. The lines disappeared as soon as Blanch connected, and the screen filled with an image of a Pingpong bridge.

“Blasted vertical,” sputtered Blanch, checking his boot for smudges. “I thought it was a new Pingpong code.”

Biltwell grimaced, partly at Blanch’s stupidity, and partly from the pain her left foot, which he was standing on. “Commander, I’m picking up an audio signal, but I can’t understand it. It’s in Pingpong sir, and since we don’t have a Pingpong dictionary...”

Blanch nodded, recalling how, only a week before, the Pingpong dictionary, subtitled “1001 Curses for Every Occasion,” had been banned by the Fodderation Nice Language Commission.

“How are we going to translate this, Commander?” asked Biltwell querulously, gently shoving Blanch on the floor to remove him from her foot.

“My dear Biltwell,” replied Blanch condescendingly, slowly struggling to his feet, “all you have to do is read the uni-language subtitles at the bottom of the screen.” Blanch reached for a chair to sit down on, tripped over another cord and tumbled unceremoniously into the engineering console.

Biltwell, this time embarrassed at her own stupidity, blushed a deep crimson. “How silly of me,” she stammered, swiftly turning her attention back to the viewscreen in an effort to conceal her mistake. “Commander, this is from the captain of the Pingpong cruiser K’rud. He says that a massive...would you like expletives deleted, sir?”

Blanch, sprawled awkwardly on the floor after slipping on a crew-member’s skateboard, nodded in approval.

“He says that a massive, uh, cloud has entered Pingpong space. It’s already...eaten...several of the ships under his command. The...,” Biltwell blushed again, embarrassed this time by the Pingpong’s choice of descriptive adjectives. “...thing...is about to swallow the K’rud as well, sir.” Suddenly, the screen went blank. Biltwell gasped. “Correction, sir, the K’rud has already been swallowed.”

For a long moment, the only sound on the bridge was the distant thud caused by Blanch’s header down the inter-deck stairs.

Unaware that her commander had clumsily exited the bridge, Biltwell resumed speaking. “Commander, we have one final transmission coming in from the K’rud. It reads 'The cloud is heading for Earth. Ha Ha Ha.’ “ Biltwell slumped back in her chair, shocked, confused, and wondering where Blanch had disappeared to.

“What a day,” she muttered disgustedly. “Not only is Earth about to be destroyed, but now I’m working into my coffee break.”

 

*****

 

A hot wind gently stirred the sands of the blistering Sulking desert. Spook, roasting in his heavy, ceremonial robes, wished he were elsewhere, anywhere but in the blazing heat of his home planet, waiting for the know-it-all Sulking Masters to approach. Boy did he hate those three show-offs. They were the three wisest beings on all Sulking, possessing most of the knowledge in the universe, and they never hesitated to let everybody know it. Spook, himself not exactly a pushover in matters intellectual, felt like dirt around the Sulking Masters, and the three boobs never let him forget it.

“Oh zitpop,” exclaimed Spook suddenly, catching sight of several figures in the distance. “Here come the snobs now.”

Indeed, the figures approaching Spook were the Sulking Masters. Clad in black caps and gowns, the traditional attire of Sulking intellectuals, the three Masters were the picture of dignity, intelligence, and high-salary jobs. On their chests, each master wore the inscription “T’non, T’lal, T’sil,” the ancient Sulking slogan which roughly translates “Brains R Us.” On their right hands, each wore a beautiful, glittering ring, inlaid with precious gems and bearing the sacred words “Class of '26.” Truly, the elderly Masters were awe-inspiring.

As they neared, Spook’s blood pressure rose. For ten long years these three slave drivers had tutored Spook in the Sulking ritual of Kallmenerd. They drove him mercilessly, day after day, forcing him to study the ancient rites, to engage in grueling tests of physical endurance, to take a bath every Saturday night. Still, after ten years, Spook hadn’t attained the final goal of Kallmenerd, he hadn’t driven away his emotions and achieved total sarcasm. Total sarcasm, that was Spook’s goal and the goal of all Sulkings; before its conversion to the philosophy of sarcasm, Sulking had been at war. Now everybody just sat around calling each other names and insulting one another, and Sulking was finally at peace.

Shortly, the three Masters, T’Smart, T’Smarter, and T’Smartest, had reached Spook, and stood before him regally. Spook gave them the proper greeting, thumbing his nose and sticking his tongue out at each one, and received the Masters’ traditional response, the ancient Sulking razz. Then, one of the Masters, T’Smartest, spoke.

“Spook, you stinking idiot, you lousy bum, you spineless worm, you have stupidly blown it. Here we are, spending ten of the best years of our lives trying to make you a sarcastic son-of-a-crud, and you flunk your final exam. Now you’ll never attain Kallmenerd, you twit.”

Spook glowered fiercely. “Well excuuuuuuuse me, miss perfect. Pardon moi for imposing on you like this. These past ten years haven’t been a bed of roses for me either, sister.”

“Face it Spook,” said T’Smartest, “you just don’t have what it takes. You’re inferior, unteachable, weak and have very bad breath. Also, you’re being distracted by something. What is it, you flake? Your thoughts, give them to me or I’ll break your neck.”

Spook submitted to T’Smartest’s request, and soon the Master had initiated a Sulking mind-mold.

T’Smartest, probing Spook’s thoughts, began speaking slowly. “Spook...your brain to my brain...your thoughts...Spook, I have found it...the distraction...I sense great pain...waves and waves of searing piercing agony...pain...pain...pain....” T’Smartest grimaced, overwhelmed by the sensations flowing through the mold. “You are in pain...”

That is because your finger is in my eye, O' oafish one,” replied Spook angrily.

T’Smartest, heavily embarrassed but not about to show it in front of Spook, expertly covered over her mistake by applying the ancient Sulking stomach pinch to his gut. Spook, stunned by the pinch and still smarting from the finger in his eye, dropped to the ground like a ton of thermo concrete. However, aided by his years of arduous physical training and a sudden, driving urge to punch T’Smartest’s lights out, he quickly recovered and stumbled to his feet.

Once Spook was again standing, T’Smartest began speaking. “Spook, you are truly a boob. You have no resistance to the stomach pinch, none at all, and besides that, you’re gaining weight.” Ashamed, humiliated and looking for a good place to lay into T’Smartest, Spook lowered his head. “Before you so gracefully collapsed, though, I did learn one thing through the mind-mold. Something calling itself T’Jerk is summoning you. Its telepathic cries are part of the distraction which caused you to flunk Kallmenerd. The other part appears to be a young brunette at the temple snack bar named T’Fox.”

Spook, now ready to beat T’Smartest into pulp, stood fuming before the Sulking Masters. “Your mother sucks slime slugs,” he shouted furiously, in a last-ditch attempt to save face.

Obviously unimpressed, the Sulking Masters turned and walked away. “Hang it up, loser,” was the last Spook heard from them before they disappeared over a sand dune.

'What now,’ thought Spook, 'what do I do? I can’t stay on Sulking, I don’t have a job, I failed Kallmenerd, and the Science Academy hates my guts. Where do I go? Where can a failure like me fit in? Who would accept a clumsy, stupid, worthless dolt like me?’

Then, the answer suddenly dawned on him. There was only one place in the universe he could go...

 

*****

 

The U.S.O. Enterprunes floated majestically in her drydock. She glinted with metallic luster, gleaming, sparkling sunlight reflecting off her newly polished surface, her recently refurbished structure, the huge, shining sidepipes newly installed along her hull. The Enterprunes was indeed a sight for the very sore eyes of Captain Quirk; he had been separated from this ship, from his ship, for too long. The old feelings again began to well up within Quirk, the old feelings of starlust, of awe, of spacesickness and heartburn. He brimmed with joy, hope, and anticipation of beautiful new Enterprunes crew members to replenish his little black book.

“Finally,” spoke Quirk softly, breathlessly. “After ten long years, she’s mine again.” He shook his head in wonder and tears streamed down his face, tears caused partly by strong emotion and partly by the strong breath of the totally drunk Chief Engineer of the Enterprunes, Mr. Splot, who was speaking directly into Quirk’s face.

“Ach, mon,” sputtered Splot tipsily, as Quirk grabbed for a nearby oxygen mask. “Ow’d ye e’er do it?” Splotty belched, smacked his lips, and took a long draught from the gallon jug of scotch hanging from his neck. “Ow’d ye e’er get th’ Enterprunes away from Cap’n Snicker?”

Quirk, again breathing regularly after ten minutes of inhaling oxygen, turned to look out the front window. The tiny shuttle in which he and Splotty were traveling was moving closer and closer to the Enterprunes, and Quirk’s view of the huge ship increased every second. “Well, Splotty,” he answered, carefully maintaining a safe distance from the inebriated engineer, “you’d be surprised at the power and persuasiveness, the influence and strength, the inspiration and effectiveness of a single, profound, well-placed financial reimbursement.” Quirk took a deep breath, proud of his impressive, lengthy explanation.

“Bribed the suckers, huh?” Splotty nodded in comprehension and put away another bottle of Slurrian brandy.

Quirk, embarrassed by the ease with which the soused engineer had translated his meaningful speech and thinly-disguised cover-up, quickly and subtly changed the subject. “How 'bout them Yankees, Splotty? Is there life after death? How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?”

Splotty, thoroughly confused by Quirk’s tricky verbal maneuvering, plucked a large flask of Rombian gin from the left hip pocket of his coveralls and drained it thirstily. Already forgetting his captain’s words, and presence, he then began belting out a rendition of “My Bonny Lies Over the Ocean.”

Quirk, hastily taking control of the shuttle from his shnockered companion before it could collide with the drydock, cast a quick, confused look in the engineer’s direction. “This bum is going to get the Enterprunes ready to save the Earth?” he muttered questioningly, as Splotty lapsed into a drunken heap on the floor. Quirk sighed, mumbled a quick “Ours is not to reason why,” and turned to the front window. Through the window’s tinted glass, the Enterprunes loomed impressively. Quirk was awed and humbled by the sheer size and beauty of the newly redesigned starboat; the massive, gleaming fenders, shining headlights, and double-belted whitewalls nearly overwhelmed the vessel’s returning captain.

“She’s a trim craft,” said Quirk admiringly. “I saw the plans for her refitting. New, faster engines, sleeker, more aerodynamic structure, more powerful weaponry and deflectors, Jacuzzi...” Quirk’s voice trailed off in amazement.

Splotty emerged from his drunken stupor long enough to stammer “Aye, dinna och nessie,” toss down another fifth of brandy, and yank the curtains off the front window to use as a blanket. Then, he was out like a light, sprawled on the shuttle floor with the thumb of his right hand lodged in his mouth and a jug of Slurrian brandy at his side.

As Splotty subsided into restless, intoxicated slumber, Quirk began guiding the shuttle into docking position with the Enterprunes. Slowly, carefully, he maneuvered the tiny craft toward the docking bay mounted on the Enterprunes’ starboard side; the obsidian darkness of space between the shuttle and the massive starboat was pierced only by the flashing neon signs mounted above the dock, one labeled U.S.O. Enterprunes, the other NO VACANCY. As Quirk moved his shuttle closer to the dock, he could see that it had already been activated; its small, magnetic ring was pulsing in preparation to receive the shuttle, and two large hand-shaped grapplers had been ejected. When Quirk’s shuttle came within range, the two hands began closing around it, their long fingers gently guiding it towards the docking ring. Then, the shuttle made contact, the airlocks between it and the Enterprunes engaged, and the doors at the rear of the shuttle swooshed open.

“At last,” whispered Quirk, his heart beating furiously. “I’m home.” Quite over-dramatically, he walked to the shuttle’s airlock, then stepped slowly through its open door. The first thing the captain saw in the Enterprunes’ interior was the corridor wall into which he clumsily tripped.

“Wasn’t there ten years ago,” muttered Quirk, rubbing his nose in pain, turning from the wall and subsequently stumbling into a nearby soda machine. “Boy, the Enterprunes has changed over the past ten years,” he mused painfully.

Quirk, slowly recovering from his jarring entrance, then began to take in the sights. He moved his head slowly from side to side, and his eyes were frozen in an unbelieving, wide-eyed stare as he drank in the view. Unfolding before him was a long corridor, lit by crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, decorated with intricate, luxurious tapestries, and carpeted with plush, crimson velvet. Classical concertos by the masters wafted lightly from hidden speakers and the faint scent of delicate perfume found its way to Quirk’s nostrils. The corridor was beautiful, like something out of a Rigellian pleasure palace; Quirk was overwhelmed. Then he turned from the 3-D holo-painting into which he had inadvertently rammed his face, and saw the real Enterprunes corridor.

“Ah,” sighed Quirk, again at ease amidst familiar surroundings. “This is more like it.” Indeed, the corridor now before him was closer to Quirk’s recollections of the Enterprunes; the walls painted in tacky orange and pink, the fluorescent green cement of the floor, and the lighting fixtures composed of lone, bare hundred-watt bulbs all aroused Quirk’s memory of the original Enterprunes. Though it all glistened and shined from the Enterprunes’ recent refurbishing, it still was the Enterprunes, and as such stirred up strong feelings within the captain’s breast. Quirk recalled nostalgically the many valiant battles this ship had weathered, the numerous heroic quests she had carried him through, the countless women she had guided to his arms. 'Truly,’ he thought, 'this ship has been good to me.’ 'Very good,’ he added, remembering several rather voluptuous female passengers.

Then, suddenly, Quirk’s reverie was shattered by an approaching belch. Whirling, the captain saw the belch’s source, Splotty, crawling slowly out of the airlock. The blitzed engineer still clasped a bottle of Slurrian brandy in his right hand, and around his shoulders hung the drapes from the shuttle’s front window, drapes he had been using as a blanket.

“Dinna ken, cap’n,” slurred Splotty drunkenly. “Begorra.” Then he again drifted asleep, and collapsed on the corridor floor.

“Poor Splotty,” murmured Quirk pityingly, “trapped in the clutches of the demon rum. On second thought,” he reconsidered, remembering that Splotty was to maintain the Enterprunes during its coming critical mission, “poor me!” Then the gallant starboat captain strode away down the corridor, his destination...

 

*****

 

...the bridge. Quirk’s heart once more beat wildly at the sight of this place where he had spent so much time. He was yet again overcome with emotion and nostalgia, and remembrances of past glories once more seeped up from the nooks of his mind. Many were the courageous feats he had engineered from this control center, many were the life and death decisions he had made here, and many were the chicks he had so eagerly chased around this circular room. Unconsciously, Quirk began singing “Mem’ries, light the corners of my mind...”.

However, before he could reach the second verse, Quirk was abruptly interrupted by a shout of “Captain!” from across the bridge. Angry that his singing debut had been cut short, Quirk turned in the voice’s direction. He was greeted by the voice’s beautiful owner, “Yoohoora!”

Indeed, the dark-skinned beauty facing Quirk from her communications console was none other than Lootenant Yoohoora. Originally communications officer of the Enterprunes, Yoohoora had, in the ten years since the end of the ship’s five month mission, found galaxy-wide success as a singing star. Her group, Lootenant Yoohoora and Hailing Frequency, had rocketed to the top of the charts almost instantly after its creation, and its songs, like “Distress Signal,” “Subspace Love,” and “Homing Beacon Baby,” had practically become household tunes.

“Welcome home,” sang Yoohoora liltingly. “We’re glad that you’re back aboard/Welcome home...”

“Welcome ho-o-o-o-o-o-me,” echoed Yoohoora’s three-girl backup group, who had accompanied her onboard the Enterprunes as a publicity promotion for Hailing Frequency’s coming galactic tour.

Quirk, obviously reveling in the attention being showered upon him, stood for a moment in silent rapture. Then, another shout of welcome sounded from the other side of the bridge.

“Captain Quirk!” This shout, Quirk discovered after quickly whirling to face its owner, belonged to none other than Lootenant Wreckov, the Enterprunes’ navigator and token Russian.

“Wreckov!” responded Quirk, his face lit with pleasure at the sight of his old friend. “How are you comrade?” After a moment, however, when Quirk began taking in Wreckov’s appearance, his look of pleasure rapidly vanished. “Pavel Wreckov,” he scolded belatedly. “What in Klingon have you done to yourself?”

Indeed, the Lootenant Wreckov greeting Quirk in no way resembled the old Wreckov Quirk had known so well in the past. This Wreckov was clad in a collared pullover shirt which sported a small alligator emblem where the Starfeet insignia usually went, a pair of baggy khaki pants and nonregulation shoes of the docksider variety. Quirk was absolutely flabbergasted at this unusual dress, and was even more shocked when Wreckov again spoke.

“My name is no longer Pavel Wreckov. I am now known exclusively as Lootenant Biff Wreckov, navigator and social director of the Enterprunes.”

Quirk was stricken speechless; not a word emerged from his shocked mouth until he realized he was losing his scene. Then, seeing a great opportunity for an over-dramatic speech, he began again to speak.

“Wreckov, do those clothes express the true nature of mankind? Do they show, in some small way, the millions of years of constant struggle and sweat through which man has lumbered to reach this plateau of peace and advancement? Do they show the primal core of man’s being, of his...”

Quirk’s speech was suddenly ended, just as the bridge crew was starting to catch some heavy z’s, when another of his old crewmembers stepped forward to offer a greeting.

“Hello, Captain,” said the Asian crewman, breaking Quirk’s lengthy dissertation and awakening most of the dozing bridge crew.

“Oh,” muttered Quirk, ticked off at this intrusion into his latest attempt at scene-stealing, “Lootenant Lulu. How nice to, um, see, uh, you again.”

“Peace brother,” proclaimed Lulu. “Would you like a flower? Have you found the way of the Great Bird of the Galaxy? Would you like to donate to my church?”

Once more, Quirk was stunned by the changes which had appeared in his crew since the end of the Enterprunes’ last mission. He hardly recognized Lulu now, though the Lootenant had been his close friend and helmsman for five months. The Lulu who now stood before Quirk wore not the familiar uniform of a Starfeet officer but rather a full-length, dark-brown monk’s robe. His head was shaved completely bald, and around his neck hung a simple gold medallion. Clasped in his right hand was a small bunch of flowers, and in his left were several tracts extolling the glories of his new-found religion, the Cult of the Great Bird.

“Lulu, Lulu, Lulu,” spoke up Quirk, recognizing another opportunity to overact. “What have you done with yourself? Why have you joined a cult? Whatever happened to the Lulu I used to know, the wimp who didn’t know right from left, white from black, Coke from Pepsi? How did you get this way?”

Lulu smiled in blissful remembrance. “Well, Quirk, after the Enterprunes’ last mission, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I went on the pro fencing circuit, but lost a few fingers and dropped that. Then I hooked up with FTD for a while, hoping to exploit my knowledge of botany, but I delivered an Antilean man-eating violet to the Sulking ambassador instead of a 'Tickler’ bouquet, and quickly lost that job. Then I got desperate, turning to jobs no one else would take, like politics, talk-show hosting, and acting. Finally, though, I became enlightened through a holovision commercial and joined the Cult of the Great Bird of the Galaxy. All it took was my sworn, eternal allegiance, a vow of undying fealty and a money order for $1.85.” Lulu again smiled and inhaled deeply from the flowers in his hand.

“Oh, boy,” muttered Quirk in exasperation. Slowly, he looked around the bridge at his crew, at Yoohoora with her three-girl backup group, at Wreckov in his preppie outfit, at Lulu, the newly converted cultie, who even now was offering pamphlets to a passing engineer. How would Quirk ever manage to whip this sorry bunch into shape, how would he be able to defeat T’Jerk, and better yet, how could he get a promotion out of this fiasco?

Quirk’s heart was again starting to beat wildly, when, from the comlink mounted on his command stool, a hailing bleep sounded, followed by a message.

“Attention, all you cats out in Enterprunes land,” spoke the voice from Quirk’s comlink. “This is rockin’ Lootenant Slyle beamin’ at ya’ from transplurter control. Quirk, I humbly request that you bop-a-loo-bop down here and rap with our new guest. He is zappin’ in here even as we jive, brother.”

Quirk was stunned. His heart again beat wildly in his chest as he replied to the message. “Wait a minute,” he stuttered perplexedly. “This isn’t in the script. I’m supposed to fight with Snicker first, and then meet McClod. What’s going on here?!” Quirk reeled dazedly about, blindly stumbling into an engineering console and shorting out power for half the ship. “Was there a last minute rewrite? Have we changed movies? Is this 'Kingdom of the Spiders’?” Quirk fell to his knees a broken man. “Why is Slyle here? He’s not in this movie! Where’s Spook? Where’s my mommy?!” He screamed helplessly.

Slyle’s voice again echoed from the comlink. “Hey, cool it Quirk baby. There’s no sweat here, bro. This is a spoof, remember, not a real flick. This scene’s goin’ down for laughs, man, not freakin’ drama, and nobody, but nobody, counts scenes in the ha-ha biz. You dig this groove, blood?”

Quirk stopped sobbing, and a semblance of order appeared on his tear-streaked face. “Oh,” he comprehended, slowly struggling to his feet. “But you’re still not supposed to be here.”

“But I should be, bucko. Enough a’ this patter, dudes, just rock on down here and lay some language on you-know-who. In the meantime,” Slyle paused for an instant and the sounds of buttons being pushed filtered over the comlink. “Slyle here is gonna lay some heavy tunes on you cats.” Slyle’s voice slowly faded from the comlink and was replaced with lilting music.

Quirk, still rather confused, staggered dizzily off the bridge and into the turbo pole shaft. Taking the pole in his hands, he shakily stepped off the landing leading from the bridge, shouted the command “Transplurter room,” and began rapidly sliding down the pole. Within seconds, the turbo-pole, that incredibly swift and modernized device used for transportation throughout the ship, had whisked Quirk to his destination. When he reached the landing for the transplurter room’s deck, the turbo-pole’s advanced, state-of-the-art stopping mechanism, a net, suddenly shot out from the walls of the shaft and caught Quirk squarely within its mesh. Slowly, his heart again beating wildly from losing his breath, Quirk crawled along the stopping net and onto the transplurter deck’s landing, and before long found himself at the door to the transplurter room itself.

After speaking the proper top-secret code words, “Open sesame,” and seeing that the door didn’t scuff his boots when it swished open, Quirk entered the transplurter room. The last thing he heard before suddenly and unexpectedly slipping into unconsciousness was a cry of “Fore!” and a swooshing whistle of air near his head. The last thing he saw was a standard Starfeet golf ball plowing through the air towards his face.

The next thing Quirk heard, as he pushed aside the darkness which had descended over his senses, was an old and very familiar voice; the first thing he saw was an even older and more familiar face. As his mind and vision cleared, Quirk saw the possessor of both voice and face examining him intently, and suddenly realized just who it was.

“McClod!” shouted Quirk joyfully, pleased at the sight of his old friend and confidant. “Bobo McClod!”

“Sho’ nuff, Jambo. How y’all doin’? I hope that there practice drive didn’t hurt too dang much.”

Quirk simply nodded in reply. It felt good for the Enterprunes’ captain to see this companion from the past; Quirk and McClod were very good friends during the ship’s original mission, and together with Spook they had become famous as the 'Enterprunes triumvirate.’ To Quirk at this moment, though, McClod was an island of stability amid a sea of change; unlike the others from the old crew -- Lulu, Yoohoora, Wreckov, Slyle -- Dr. Bobo McClod was essentially his same grizzled self. Almost.

Unquestionably, it was McClod, the cynical, crotchety old doctor who had assisted Quirk in so many heroic missions and shore leaves in the past. However, there were subtle changes inherent in Bobo’s visage; his eyes were a bit more crinkled at the corners, his hair a little whiter, and on top of his head he sported a visored cap emblazoned with the words “Bob Hope Invitational - 2433.” Quirk also noticed that slung around Bobo’s shoulders was a golf bag and clasped in his right hand, a putter. The doctor was clad in par-fours, a casual shirt and button down sweater, and looked for all the universe to Quirk like a seventy-year-old, second hand Arnold Palmer.

“Well, Bobo,” groaned Quirk, rubbing his head and slowly struggling to a sitting position. “What have you been doing with yourself?”

McClod smirked crustily. “Wa’ll, Jambo, after the ol' Enterprunes mission, ah moseyed on home and decided to play a li'l cow-pasture pool. Y’all know, golf,” he added in response to Quirk’s grimace of puzzlement and confused eye crossing, “the official sport of doctors. Now I’m on the pro-circuit -- Masters, Pebble Beach, Beta Gamma Four, Bing Crosby -- or rather,” Bobo’s voice shifted to a low growl, “ah was on the pro-circuit till you-all had me rounded up and throwed up here!”

“I simply requested that Starfeet gently and subtly deliver you onboard the Enterprunes, no big deal.”

McClod laughed grimly and furrowed his brows in anger. “No big deal? Gently and subtly?! Jambo, Starfeet sent half a battalion 'a infantry equipped with full taser weaponry and photon cannon and yanked me right outta the middle 'a the Doctor’s Invitational. Ah was one undah pah, too.”

“I’m sorry, Bobo,” muttered Quirk as he pulled himself to his feet. “Starfeet has a way of exaggerating things.” Quirk dusted himself off and checked his makeup. “I do need you though, Bobo, now more than ever. We’ve got to save the Earth, and you’re the most qualified doctor in the service to help accomplish this critical mission. Besides, no one else would be caught dead serving on this jalopy.”

Bobo hesitated for a moment, broke his putter over one leg, gritted his teeth and responded to Quirk’s plea with a hearty handshake and nod of the head. “Ah-right Jambo. Y’all got yuhself one doctor and bartender.” McClod turned and crankily thudded out the door. “Damn Yankee,” was the last thing Quirk heard from the doctor before the door swished shut behind him.

Almost immediately after McClod left the transplurter room, a hailing bleep sounded over the intercom. Slyle, who was standing nearby kissing Yeowoman Rant, discontinued his activity with the pretty young female and answered the bleeping device.

“Hey hey Quirk,” spoke Slyle after receiving the message. “You is wanted on the freakin’ bridge baby. Some new chick just came in and brother Wreckov thought you’d like to scan her data. Said she’s a foxy hunk-a carbon Quirk-o.”

Quirk, already annoyed by Slyle’s disc-jockey jargon, which the Lootenant had obtained after serving as an announcer on Starfeet radio, suddenly started yelling angrily. “No, No! I’m supposed to fight with Snicker first, then meet Iliac, and then meet McClod! I don’t care if this is a spoof, it should still follow the script.” Quirk glared at Slyle, who was again sucking face with Rant. “And another thing...let go of my Yeowoman!”

Just then, the door of the transplurter room opened and a large, very rotund rogue entered. Upon seeing Quirk, the jocular man’s mouth curled into a smile and his eyes lit with recognition.

Quirk was stunned and his heart beat wildly in shock. “Hairy Muck!” he shouted confusedly. “But you were never in this movie!”

“Ah, but I should have been,” chuckled Muck heartily, running up to the transplurter platform and mounting one of its beaming disks. “Well, sorry I can’t chat, Quirk 'ol boy, but I really gotta fly. Chow.” Muck vanished in a shower of transplurter energy.

Quirk, his eyes glazed over in blank confusion, wandered slowly to the door. “McClod...,” he mumbled dazedly, a mindless smile plastered upon his lips, “...Slyle...Iliac...wrong script...Muck...bridge. Help, police.” The door swished softly shut behind him.

 

*****

 

After a hasty trip up the turbo-pole, Quirk again strode onto the bridge. True to Wreckov’s message, Iliac stood there, beside her helm station, all 36-24-36 of her. Every male crewman on the bridge was also by Iliac’s helm station and the sounds of heavy panting and drooling filled the air.

“What a woman!” whispered Quirk admiringly to himself. Indeed, Iliac was beautiful, with shimmering blue eyes, inviting crimson lips...and a head of long, dark hair which hung flowingly all the way to the bridge floor. Strangely, the provocative hairiness of her head only seemed to enhance Iliac’s attractiveness, and together with the pharaoh-gnomes continuously emitted by her Builtan body served to turn all males within a five-mile radius into raving, drooling wolves.

Not even the dignified, gallant Captain Quirk was spared the effects of Iliac’s beauty. Within five seconds of Quirk’s entry onto the bridge, his tongue was lolling crazily out of his mouth, his eyes were dilated and bulging out of their sockets, and his heart was beating wildly in his chest. Seeing an opportunity to put the make on a hot fox, Quirk strode purposefully forward, pushed away the other crewmen fawning over Iliac, and seductively whispered his most original and effective lines.

“Come here often, baby? What’s a nice girl like you doing on a ship like this? What’s your sign?”

Iliac, obviously extremely impressed by Quirk’s macho come-on, turned quickly and provocatively booted him in the rump. Knocked off-balance by Iliac’s entrancing beauty and the sheer brute force of her kick, Quirk gracefully crumpled to the floor.

“Well Lulu,” whispered Quirk as his Asian helmsman helped him up. “Once again I have won the heart of a fair, gracious and beauteous maiden in one fell swoop. Good, huh?”

Lulu smirked blissfully and offered Quirk a tract. “Women are the root of all evil, Captain. Try the Church of the Great Burp of the Galaxy. Happiness, peace, and the joys of roller disco sculpting await you there.” Quirk shook his head in refusal of Lulu’s offer, gently threw the tract on the floor and stepped on it, and winced in pain when Lulu subtly elbowed him in the eye.

As Quirk recovered from the various injuries inflicted upon him by Lulu and Iliac, a soft yet resonant voice sang out from the communications station.

“Captain, oh Captain,” sang the voice, which Quirk quickly identified as that of Yoohoora. “Starfeet command has se-e-ent a message in top-priority code. Would you like it de-e-e-e-coded now?”

Fighting down the impulse to sing his answer, Quirk brusquely nodded his head. After a brief pause, during which Yoohoora’s back-up group, Hailing Frequency, hummed a medley of Sulking folk songs, Yoohoora finished decoding the message.

“It says: 'Captain Quirk please hear our plea, right now, right now/ Save the Earth from T’Jerk’s spree/ Oh, please save the Earth/ T’Jerk’s getting near/ We are all in fear/ And if you don’t save the day/ YOU WILL LOSE YOUR JOB!’ Signed Admiral Blowhard. 'P.S.,’ “ added Yoohoora. “Good luck. You morons’re gonna need it.’ End of message.”

Quirk stood for a moment, brooding silently over the deep philosophical meanings inherent in Starfeet’s message; then, his heart beating wildly, he burst into action.

“All right,” he shouted suddenly. “Enough dilly-dallying around in drydock! The Earth’s in danger and we’re the only ones who can save it! You heard the message: T’Jerk is approaching! Our duty, our very world, calls to us!” Head held high, chest puffed with pride, Quirk majestically strode to his command stool. All eyes were on him as he commandingly marched to the stool, inspiringly mounted it, and gracefully toppled backwards to the floor when he forgot to activate the retractable backrest. Quirk was now, undeniably, the picture of a gallant starboat captain, an awe-inspiring figure completely devoted to Starfeet, the Fodderation, and stealing scenes whenever possible. His face was set in flint as he issued commands to his crew. “Lulu, Iliac, take us out of drydock and head for T’Jerk’s coordinates. Yoohoora, signal Starfeet that we are leaving at once. Wreckov, alert security that we are moving to yellow alert status. McClod, bring me a steak and a bottle of port. Crew of the Enterprunes, our mission begins NOW!”

Like a single, well-honed mechanism, the crew of the great starboat moved to follow Quirk’s orders. Lulu put a key in the ignition switch mounted on his helm console, turned it, and was rewarded with the deep rumble of the Enterprunes’ engines, all eight cylinders of them. Iliac deftly manipulated the controls on the panel before her, taking the starboat out of park and skillfully turning the steering wheel to bring the vessel’s nose around. Wreckov swiftly activated the bleeping, flashing purple lights which signaled a yellow alert throughout the Enterprunes. McClod strode onto the bridge carrying a hamburger and cola and surreptitiously dumped them onto Quirk’s lap.

Within four minutes and twenty-three point six-four-one-nine seconds, the Enterprunes was out of drydock and closing on the menacing T’Jerk.

Several minutes after the Enterprunes’ departure, while the majestic starboat’s dedicated crew engaged itself in the critical task of playing tournament tiddly-winks and the courageous Captain Quirk efficiently snarfed a dozen jelly-filled donuts he had filched from the commissary, an unexpected signal reached the vessel’s communications equipment.

“Captain,” sang out Yoohoora suddenly, diverting Quirk’s attention from the delicate operation of filling a mug with coffee and subsequently causing him to spill the entire pot on his lap. “Captain, Captain, a message is coming through/ Now a shuttlecraft is approaching you/ It says that it’s from Sulking/ And requests details for docking/ And with some luck/ Its passenger may turn out to be Mr. Spook.” Yoohoora gave a curt bow in response to the applause her rendition of the message had produced. Hailing Frequency followed this with a collection of Tellarite snort-songs and an intricate Romulan soft-shoe which quickly enthralled the entire watching bridge crew.

A split-second after Quirk received the message, the turbo-pole doors swooshed open and a tall, lean figure clad entirely in hot pink Sulking robes strode out.

“Spook!” shouted Quirk abruptly, his heart beating wildly at the sight of his old Sulking science officer.

“Suck worms, jello brain,” muttered Spook sarcastically, sticking his tongue out at Quirk and stomping haughtily towards his bridge science station.

While Quirk stood stock-still and displayed his best expression of outrage, Bobo McClod and Nurse Chapped-Lips stumbled onto the bridge. At the sight of Spook, Bobo’s face twisted into a crotchety grimace and Chapped-Lips fainted dead away, collapsing on the Life-Support console and shutting off the air supply for five decks and the Enterprunes bowling alley.

“Spook you 'ol opossum-puss,” jeered McClod while struggling with several technicians to haul Nurse Chapped-Lips off Life-Support. “So help me, ah actually hate to see you. Ah must say in all honesty ah wish y’all were dead.”

Spook politely spit on McClod’s boots, gently threw a right cross into his jaw, and slowly drawled out a reply. “Bobo, you are a maggot in the stinking armpit of life.”

Just as McClod was recovering from the impact of Spook’s fist and was preparing to apply his own brand of Southern Comfort, the Enterprunes screeched to a halt, throwing crewmembers everywhere and slamming Quirk heavily to the floor.

“What the devil?!” exclaimed Quirk weakly from his sprawled position on the deck. “What happened?!”

“Use your eyes dolt,” snapped Spook insolently, motioning for Quirk to look at the viewscreen.

Slowly, while floundering to his feet, Quirk directed his eyes to the large viewscreen mounted in the front portion of the bridge. Displayed there for all to see was a terrible, threatening sight -- the massive, grinning, cloudlike monstrosity known as T’Jerk. Quirk’s heart beat wildly at the very sight of it.

“T’Jerk!” whispered Quirk over-dramatically into the silence that had suddenly enveloped the bridge.

“Nooooooooo Captain twit,” snarled Spook sarcastically. “It’s my dear Aunt Fanny.”

Ignoring Spook’s condescending remark, partly because it was beneath his dignity as starboat captain to reply and also because he didn’t have a good comeback in mind, Quirk turned angrily on Lootenant Lulu.

“Lulu,” he sputtered commandingly. “Why have we reached T’Jerk already? What about the wormhole and the long voyage in the movie? And what about my dramatic meeting with Snicker?”

His mouth curled into a contented smile, Lulu sniffed one of the flowers he held. “Captain, nobody knows what a wormhole is in the first place, so why encounter one? Also, Snicker croaks at the end anyhow, so why bother introducing him at all?”

Quirk’s eyes crossed in confusion. “Then why introduce Iliac? She buys the farm, too.”

Lulu pulled Quirk closer and whispered confidentially in his ear. “ 'Cause she’s stacked, Quirk-baby.”

His eyes uncrossing and a look of comprehension settling over his features, Quirk returned his attention to the viewscreen. To his surprise, all the screen displayed was dark, black nothingness.

“All right,” shouted the Captain suddenly, stumbling across the bridge and mounting the command stool. “Let’s get moving, people. We have to defeat this T’Jerk thing, so we may as well start now. First, I want Yoohoora to fix the viewscreen...”

“Captain,” sang Yoohoora melodiously, “the viewscreen is fixed. That blackness on the screen is the inside of T’Jerk.”

Quirk was stunned and his heart beat wildly. “You mean we’ve been swallowed?”

“Yes,” growled Spook gratingly. “We’re Jonah-city, Captain noodnik.”

Quirk gnashed his teeth angrily, his mind racing. “What next?” he muttered, sucking his thumb in concentration.

As if in reply to Quirk’s query, a bright light flared up near the helm, zapped some security guards, probed Spook’s computers, disintegrated Iliac and abruptly disappeared.

“Oh,” said Quirk quietly after the light had vanished. “That was next.”

McClod, dazed by the action and looking for a scene to steal, slowly spoke up. “What th’ tarnation was that, Jambo?”

“It was the Good Humor man, you incompetent dixie cup,” bellowed Spook boorishly in reply.

McClod bared his teeth and angrily clenched both his hands into fists. “Suck mah stethoscope, you sanctimonious Sulking boob.”

Quirk, brooking no arguments among his officers and eager to focus attention back upon himself, broke into Spook and Bobo’s heated exchange. “Enough, both of you. While you two stand here bickering like children, T’Jerk is getting closer to Earth. This situation’s getting grim, people, and if we’re going to remedy it, we better get cracking.”

Wreckov turned to face Quirk from his seat at the weapons console. “Is that General Cracking or Doctor Cracking, sir?”

Quirk coolly resisted the impulse to strangle Wreckov, partly because he was captain and captains are calm authority figures and also because he was afraid of smearing his make-up. “Well,” he muttered. “What next?”

As if on cue, another bright light flared up, filling the bridge with a high-pitched whine and abruptly vanishing to reveal Iliac standing near the helm.

“I had to ask?” stuttered Quirk resignedly as the entire male portion of the bridge crew began to again surround Iliac.

“Captain,” intoned Spook snappishly. “That woman is not the real Iliac. My sensors show she is only an insipid, idiotic excuse for an android.”

Quirk was shocked. “But Spook, she’s so...so...so...”

“I believe 'built’ is the term you were so cloddishly groping for, you spineless pattymelt,” oozed Spook snakily.

Again at a loss for a quickie comeback, Quirk rapidly whirled around to face the Iliac-replica.

“Take us to your leader,” requested the daring starboat captain, obviously bubbling over with original lines.

The Iliac-duplicate beeped twice, flexed an arm, which subsequently smashed an engineer through the floor and down through three more decks, and slowly began to speak.

“Cap-tain...Quirk,” dictated the Iliac-replica in a low, deadly monotone. “T’Jerk sent...me...to eliminate...the...carbon-based units...infesting the Enterprunes. That means you, buddy.”

Quirk recoiled in shock, tumbling over a railing and gracefully thudding headfirst to the deck. Then, suddenly experiencing a rush of courage, and stupidity, he poked his head over the railing which had tripped him, set a look of defiance upon his face, and spoke snarlingly to the Iliac-replica.

“You don’t scare us, you creaking tin can. My ship is the finest in the fleet, my crew, the most efficient in the galaxy, my jai-alai team, the winningest in the Inter-Ship Galactic Amateur League.” In a sudden, daring move, Quirk defiantly stuck his tongue out at the Iliac-replica. The entire crew on the bridge gasped.

In reply, the Iliac-replica simply turned, pointed at the helm console, and smiled daintily as it abruptly disappeared.

“Then again,” grinned Quirk amiably, “what was that about carbon-units?”

Iliac turned slowly around to again face Quirk. “You heard me...the...first...time...baby,” she monotoned dryly. Then, suddenly, the android froze; smoke began puffing out from behind her/its ears, her/its eyes crossed crazily and a low chugging sound started to reverberate from somewhere in the replica’s stomach.

“What’s it doing?” whispered Quirk querulously, his heart beating wildly.

“Obviously communicating with T’Jerk, you witless simpleton,” grumbled Spook grouchily.

Quirk nodded, absorbing the information imparted to him by Spook and making a mental note to accidentally lose the sarcastic Sulking’s next paycheck. Then, as quickly as they began, the unusual noises and activity occurring within the Iliac-replica ended, and Quirk’s full attention was again drawn to the menacing android.

“T’Jerk...has...invited...Quirk...Spook...and...McClod...to...meet...it,” spoke the Iliac-replica mechanically. “You...come...or...I...will..turn...Enterprunes...into...instant...cream ...of...wheat.”

Quirk grinned. “I just love these gracious invitations. Tell T’Jerk we accept.”

“Thanks a bundle for inviting me along you brainless baboon,” snapped Spook sarcastically. “Did it ever occur to you, you lobotomized sap, that I might just wanna’ get out of this with a whole skin?”

“It’s the only way we can save the Earth, Spook, by going directly to the very heart of T’Jerk.” Quirk growled menacingly. “You got any better ideas, Einstein?”

Obviously possessing neither better ideas nor a quick comeback, Spook responded to Quirk’s comment with an ancient, ritualistic Sulking obscene gesture.

“Very well...then...we...will...leave...at...once.” The Iliac-replica clicked her/its heels together three times, repeated the phrase “I...wish...I...were...home” the same number of times, and together with Quirk, Spook, and McClod, vanished from the bridge of the Enterprunes.

 

*****

 

When the trio of Enterprunes officers and the Iliac-replica reappeared, it was to an incredible, awe-inspiring sight. Surrounding the foursome, as far as they could see in all directions, was a huge football stadium, possessing a full-length playing field and fantastically high bleachers. Massive, multicolored spotlights, mounted along the stadium’s rim, flooded both the field and seats with pulsing, brilliant light. Enormous goal posts towered hundreds of feet into the sky on either end of the field, dwarfing the newly-arrived visitors and giving the men of the Enterprunes a feeling of extreme smallness. A mammoth, computerized scoreboard loomed over the stadium’s far end, casting a cyclopean stare over the amazed assemblage within.

Perhaps the single most awesome spectacle within the entirety of the gigantic stadium, however, was the huge blimp centered upon the playing field’s surface. The blimp was obviously ancient, coated with dust and weathered from years of use. It emitted a strange, golden aura of light and resounded periodically with electronic bleeping and clicking sounds. The facet of its appearance which shocked the Enterprunes officers most, though, was its design and structure; the blimp was undoubtedly constructed on Earth.

Quirk almost immediately recognized the enormous vehicle. “The Goodmonth blimp!” he shouted. “The real Goodmonth blimp! Spook, wasn’t a Goodmonth blimp hijacked or something back in the twentieth century?”

Spook consulted his instruments, then sarcastically spat an answer to Quirk’s question. “Yes, you featherhead, back in 1998 one of the blimps mysteriously vanished while cruising over a Superbowl game. Authorities presumed it had been shot down by fans of the losing team. The blimp’s license plate read T-4-5-8-J-E-6-R-K.”

Something clicked into place in Quirk’s mind. “T-4-5-8-J-E-6-R-K,” he repeated, ticking the letters and numbers off on his hand. “Take away the numbers and the letters spell, uh, T-J-E-R-K, which spells, uh...”

“It spells T’JERK you cockeyed milquetoast,” spattered Spook sardonically. “OK pinhead? Let’s stop wasting time, all right? You dragged me all the way out here to save the Earth, so let’s get on with it. I’ve got places to go, universe-shaking discoveries to make, galactic rulers to parley with, unknown worlds to bring into the light of civilization. Beside all that, 'General Infirmary’ starts in fifteen minutes.”

Quirk sighed tiredly. “I am getting on with it, Spook. Just hold your horses.” The captain of the Enterprunes began speaking again to the Iliac-replica, slowly walking toward the blimp as he spoke.

“Why does T’Jerk want to wipe out carbon-units?” he questioned, continuing to approach the blimp. “Why does he want to destroy life, the grandest, most unique creation in all the majestic universe? Does he see us as a threat of some sort? Does he have some kind of mysterious, unknown mission? Do we lower his property values?”

“None...of...the above,” replied the Iliac-replica. “T’Jerk...is...simply...obeying...his... programming.”

“What is T’Jerk’s programming?” probed Quirk further, by now within several feet of the T’Jerk blimp.

“To...focus on...dissolve...and...black-out...carbon-based beings,” answered the android blandly.

Quirk’s heart beat wildly and a sharp chill ran up and down his spine. He burped softly in shock. “Bobo,” he whispered, turning to face his Chief Surgeon. “That can only mean one thing. The blimp, which was carrying camera equipment to televise the Superbowl, must have been kidnapped by aliens...”

“...And was altered by them,” continued Bobo, picking up quickly on Quirk’s miraculous inspiration, “enlarged, increased in power. But its new programming got confused with the old programming of the camera equipment. Whatever new commands it received were overridden by those of the cameras...”

“...Which were, in twentieth century film jargon, to 'focus on,’ 'dissolve,’ and 'black-out’ images of humans, or carbon-units,” finished Spook smugly, patting himself on the back and taking a bow. “So now the lousy mess of circuits is trying to focus on, dissolve, and black-out the entire human race instead of the Green Bay Packers. Great, real great. So how do we stop it, oh high-and-mighty captain? What do we do besides standing around making dramatic explanations in unison like the Vienna Boys Choir?”

Always the perfect picture of authority and decisive action, the gallant, audacious Captain Quirk responded to Spook’s query with a quick, authoritative and commanding “Beats the tar outta’ me,” and a decisive shrug of his heavily muscled shoulders.

However, just when things were looking the bleakest and Earth seemed to have about as much of a future as disco, a tall, handsome figure materialized near T’Jerk. Quickly, the figure, who could be discerned by the Enterprunes officers to be a young man in Starfeet uniform, ran up to the gondola beneath T’Jerk’s central blimp and thrust open a control box mounted near its hatch. Desperation hastening his actions, he reached inside the box and yanked out two wires, one labeled 'Danger - possible health hazard’ and the other 'Care for a last cigarette?’; he then touched the wires’ tips together and pressed a series of buttons within the box. To the surprise of Quirk and the Enterprunes officers, the Iliac-replica suddenly raced over to join the man, who smiled at her and took her hand as he finished his work with the control box. Then, without warning, a spectacular, mind-boggling display of brilliant, blinding light shot up around the T’Jerk blimp, pulsing and writhing like a living thing and centered upon the Iliac-replica and her new companion.

“Captain,” shouted the man, now fading rapidly within the coursing light/fire. “This is what I want.”

“Ditto...bucko,” chimed in the also-fading Iliac, replica.

“Who cares?” spat Spook.

“What?!” slobbered Quirk confusedly.

“He’s dead, Jambo,” clichéd McClod, desperately grasping for a line.

Then they were gone, along with the menace called T’Jerk.

 

*****

 

When Quirk, Spook and McClod reappeared, they were on the bridge of the Enterprunes.

“Well, well,” smiled Quirk happily while hanging by his feet from the rafter where he had been materialized. “Home again, home again, jiggety jig.”

McClod, who had reappeared halfway inside a bulkhead, scowled crustily. “What th’ General Lee happened, Jambo? Who was that there turkey who wasted T’Jerk? How’d I get inside this here wall?”

Spook, who had rematerialized with only his head above the bridge floor, snorted derisively. “The answers to your moronic questions are ridiculously obvious, you imbecilic quack. What happened was the last-minute rescue of the planet Earth. That 'turkey’ was Captain Snicker, who generously took T’Jerk off our hot little hands by fusing with it and ascending to another plane of reality. Finally, you are inside the wall and I,” Spook ignominiously touched his chin to the floor, “am in my present position thanks to the exquisite skills of Transplurter Chief Slyle, who so brilliantly beamed us back here in the nick of time.”

Quirk, nauseated by the blood rushing to his head, swung down from his upside-down perch and displayed his countless years of acrobatic training and expertise by landing cat-like on a trio of ensigns.

“What did Snicker mean when he said 'This is what I want’?” inquired Quirk puzzledly, skillfully disentangling himself from the ensigns by shoving one into the Engineering console and the other two over a railing.

A look of cool, dispassionate understanding fell thuddingly onto Spook’s face. “You wanna’ know, read the script, snail lips.”

Ignoring Spook’s caustic reply, since he was, as usual, at a loss for a comeback, Quirk instead stumbled to the command stool and slumped authoritatively onto it.

Lootenant Lulu turned abruptly as Quirk settled into his seat. “Heading, sir?” he queried, offering Quirk a pamphlet and a flower.

“How 'bout we mosey on over ta’ Palmer Four, the golfer’s world, Jambo?” suggested McClod from his bulkhead.

“No you cockeyed, apelike buffoon,” interrupted Spook snidely from the floor. “We should quite obviously initiate a voyage to Seinfeld VIII, the planet of standup comedians.”

“No Captain,” spoke up Yoohoora from her station. “Let’s go to Epsilon Merman, the singers’ planet.”

“How about I-zod III, the preppie world?” chimed in Wreckov eagerly.

“I think we should go to Delta Gamma Zen,” suggested Lulu solemnly, “the consciousness-raising capital of the galaxy.”

“Och, begorra nessie kilt,” belched Splotty as he crawled drunkenly out of the turbo-pole shaft.

Before long, everyone on the bridge, and everyone onboard the Enterprunes as well, was besieging Quirk with requests for the starboat’s next destination. Quickly, the gallant captain became overwhelmed by the constant buzzing and begging and, his heart beating wildly, he screamed.

“Stop it, people!!” he shouted wrathfully, flinging a nearby ashtray across the bridge. “I don’t care where we go! Get us out of here, Lulu! Out there. Thisaway.”

Lulu beamed inscrutably. “Aye, aye Captain.”

With that, the Enterprunes exploded gallantly into the blackness, flipping crazily among the stars, carrying its magnificent crew of adventurers into the heart of the universe, swooping majestically across the satin fabric of space, zooming gallantly into the galaxy, boldly going where no...

Aw, that’s enough. You get the picture.

 

*****

 

Trek It! Part Two:

Trek Off!

 

Articles about Star Trek

By award-winning Trek writer

Robert T. Jeschonek

 

*****

 

To Boldly Go Where No Comic Has Gone Before!
10 Star Trek Comic Book Lost Treasures

 

Since its beginning as a television series in 1966, Star Trek has grown into a phenomenon. This science fiction adventure has been translated into nearly every medium including novels, feature films, animation...and comic books. In fact, Trek comics have been produced since the original TV series aired. Gold Key, Marvel, Malibu, DC, and IDW have all tried their hands at creating Trek comics with varying degrees of success.

Throughout its various four-color incarnations, Star Trek has inspired some downright horrendous stories--but it has been the wellspring of some excellent graphic fiction as well. The following list summarizes what I consider to be 10 of the best Trek stories ever published in comic book form.

This list has been drawn from Trek comics released by Gold Key, Marvel, and DC. Though these three publishers are represented, I've given the majority of slots of my Top Ten to DC's Trek series; I've done this simply because l feel that the DC stories listed here deserve their high rankings.

 

l) "Retrospect"— Star Trek Annual #3, l988, DC Comics—by Peter David, Curt Swan, and Ricardo Villagran

There are no bells or whistles in this story, no interplanetary menaces or mysterious alien races...but it stands as one of the finest Star Trek tales l've ever read. This piece is a character study of Montgomery Scott. an insightful portrait of his life and his relationship with his one true love (and no, it's not the U.S.S. Enterprise).

As the story opens, Kirk and McCoy find a drunk and downcast Scotty draining bottles of scotch in his cabin; the Chief Engineer confesses than he's mourning his wife, Glynnis, who passed away recently in a shuttle accident (an accident which was caused, ironically, by an engine malfunction). The rest of "Retrospect" consists of scenes from Scotty's past, each one a turning point in his relationship with Glynnis. The scenes are presented in reverse-chronological order, starting with Scotty's recent past and shifting backward through the years, stretching the whole way back to his childhood.

This is a story with scope; in a mere 38 pages it manages to encapsulate Scotty's entire life and Glynnis Campbell's as well. Each vignette is poignant in its own way, and adds a fresh layer of emotional depth to the two main characters.

"Retrospect" celebrates the spirit of enduring love, the linkage between beings which surpasses time and distance and death. It is faithful to established Trek history, right down to the uniforms Scotty wears at different phases in his career.

"Retrospect" is Trek at its best—a story occurring in futuristic settings, with the human heart at its core.

 

2) "All Those Years Ago. . ."—Star Trek Annual #1, 1985, DC Comics—by Mike W. Barr, David Ross, and Bob Smith

One of the stories never told in the original Trek TV series was that of James T. Kirk's first mission on the Enterprise. "All Those Years Ago..." is notable because it delves into the untold story of that first mission, an event of great significance in the Star Trek mythos.

Most of this story is told in flashback form. In order to decide how to deal with a race of aliens returning to Federation space, Kirk recounts his first encounter with them, a mission which happened to be his first aboard the Enterprise. Jim's recollections provide glimpses of important and never-before-shown scenes: his first sighting of the Enterprise; his first meeting with his predecessor, Captain Pike, as well as Spock and Scotty; the gathering of Kirk's original "inner circle"—Dr. McCoy and Commander Gary Mitchell; the change of command from Pike to Kirk; and the departure of the Enterprise for the start of its fabled "five-year mission."

In the flashback sequence, Captain Pike is kidnapped by the Tralmanii, and Kirk and his crew set out to rescue him. When the Enterprise team finds Pike, they learn the reason for his abduction: years ago, he stopped the Tralmanii from feeding on the energy of a nova, and now their race is dying and hungry for revenge. By rerigging the alien ship's equipment, the Enterprise group enables the beings to generate their own nova energy so their race can be rejuvenated, and the encounter is peacefully concluded.

"All Those Years Ago..." is a splendid story, a wonderful piece which explores early Trek history. Though the plot involving the Tralmanii isn't overly original, the flashback itself is a treasure for Trek fans. This story answers a lot of questions which fans have asked through the years, and does so in an entertaining fashion; it explains the departures of original pilot characters like Captain Pike, Number One, and Dr. Boyce, and features characters like Gary Mitchell and Lee Kelso, who died in the second pilot episode, yet made strong impressions in their brief appearances.

 

3) "The Final Voyage"—Star Trek Annual #2, l986, DC Comics—by Mike W. Barr, Dan Jurgens, and Bob Smith

Whereas "All Those Years Ago..." depicts the beginning of Kirk's first five-year mission on the Enterprise, "The Final Voyage" portrays the end of that deep-space journey.

When the story opens, the Enterprise is on its way back to Earth after its five years in space. After picking up Commander Will Decker, the officer in charge of the ship's refitting, or so they think.

Instead of reaching Earth, the ship ends up in orbit around Talok IV, and is ambushed by Klingon vessels. It turns out that the Klingons have conquered Talok and forced the inhabitants to teach them how to cast illusions. The Klingons used their new powers to fool the Enterprise crew into coming to Talok, and plan to use the starship to attack the Federation.

When Kirk beams down to the planet with a landing party, he finds that the Klingons have also captured Captain Pike, who is living on Talok IV. (As depicted in the TV episode "The Menagerie," Pike went to Talok IV to live a life of illusion after being maimed in an accident.) Kirk and company are imprisoned by the Klingons and tormented by illusions, but manage to break free.

"The Final Voyage" draws together many elements of Trek history, tying in with Trek's origins (the first pilot, "The Cage," which introduced Pike and the Talosians), and its future (the feature films, like Star Trek: The Motion Picture, which introduced Will Decker). The story also holds some interesting bits of characterization, like Decker's overcompensation for being the son of a captain who destroyed his own ship; Spock's concern for Pike, and his furious leap into action when he sees the Klingons torturing his old captain; and Kirk's anguish when the Klingons force him to relive the death of Edith Keeler, whom he fell in love with during a time-trip to Earth of the 1930s.

"The Final Voyage" is an excellent Trek adventure, one which fills in some of the continuity gaps between the TV series and the films.

 

4) "The Return of the Serpent"- Star Trek #43-45, 1987, DC Comics—by Mike Carlin, Tom Sutton, and Ricardo Villagran

I'm a sucker for sequels to original Trek episodes, and this three-part sequel to "The Apple" is my favorite.

In "The Apple," Kirk and company visited the planet Gamma Trianguli VI, a veritable Eden inhabited by a peaceful and primitive race. The only catch in this paradise—the people were ruled by a super-computer called Vaal. Kirk managed to shut the machine down and left the natives to follow a more natural pattern of development.

In "The Return of the Serpent," the Enterprise travels back to Gamma Trianguli VI after 20 years. Kirk takes a landing party down to the surface, intending to observe the current condition of the race which he set free, but finds that the world has become a desolate wasteland and that the inhabitants have adopted a barbaric, medieval society.

Kirk and his party are caught up in the warfare between the planet's two tribes and are captured by Akuta, who possesses incredible powers derived from the Vaal computer. Akuta begins to drag the Enterprise out of orbit, and is only placated when Spock volunteers to help reactivate Vaal.

"The Return of the Serpent" highlights Kirk's human capacity for error, and the tremendous responsibility which falls on his shoulders every time he meddles in an alien culture. One wrong move on the surface of an undeveloped world and a starship officer can cause irreparable harm. "The Return" points out that an explorer like Kirk can't always make decisions based on his own values and beliefs because those personal feelings might not be applicable in an alien frame of reference.

 

5) "All the Infinite Ways"—Star Trek #13, 1981, Marvel Comics—by Martin Pasko, Joe Brozowski, and Tom Palmer

Dr. McCoy's daughter plans to many a Vulcan? That's the wonderfully ironic plot of this story, and it provides an intriguing character study of both Bones and his child.

The Enterprise crew travels to the planet Hephaestus to negotiate for mineral rights. While the Klingons engage in some nasty mischief, Bones has a chance encounter with his daughter, Joanna. Upset because her father hasn't been in touch with her for years, Joanna tells him that she doesn't want to have anything to do with him. Then she introduces him to her husband-to-be, a Vulcan named Suvak.

Suvak has a sudden relapse of a mysterious illness which Bones diagnoses as a fatal Vulcan blood disease. When the Klingons kidnap Joanna, however, Suvak comes to her rescue. Though weakened by his illness, he frees Joanna and sacrifices his life in a Klingon-triggered explosion.

"All the Infinite Ways" portrays a believable and fascinating relationship between Bones and his daughter. Though Joanna never appeared in the original TV series and was only mentioned briefly in one episode of the animated series ("The Survivor"), Martin Pasko brings her to life and develops her as a complex character.

Joanna has been deeply wounded by her parents' separation, yet she has conflicting feelings about her father. She claims to hate Leonard McCoy for driving her mother away from him and ruining her family; she condemns him for ignoring her for most of her life. By pledging to marry the emotionless Suvak, she seems determined to avoid the strife of her parents' stormy marriage.

And yet, Joanna seems drawn to her wayward father. Despite her professed hatred of him, she initiates contact with him on Hephaestus. Though she condemns his dedication to medicine and claims that it led to his break-up with her mother, she has chosen to become a nurse. Torn between resentment and attachment, Joanna is a confused and tragic figure.

In "All the Infinite Ways," Bones is also a tragic figure. He feels the need to make contact with his daughter, yet he is laden with guilt; for perhaps the first time in his life, he realizes how badly he has neglected and traumatized Joanna. In the end, he goes to make peace with Joanna; though he is flawed and guilty of hurting her, his saving grace lies in his recognition of his mistakes and his willingness to make up for them.

 

6) "The Wormhole Connection," "...The Only Good Klingon...," "Errand of War," and "Deadly Allies"—Star Trek #1-4, 1984, DC Comics—by Mike W, Barr, Tom Sutton, and Ricardo Villagran

This four-part story (which I will henceforth refer to as "Errand of War") begins with a battle between the Enterprise and a secret Klingon space station. Defeated, the Klingons destroy their own base; Kirk then learns that the Klingon Empire has declared all-out war on the Federation, ostensibly because of the starship's attack on the station.

Kirk takes his ship to the planet Organia, whose nigh-omnipotent residents have enforced a Klingon- Federation peace treaty for years. Joining forces with the captured Klingon captain Kor, Kirk learns the true cause of the war: the Excalbians, another all-powerful race, set up the conflagration as a galactic morality play to determine whether good—represented by the Federation—is stronger than evil (the Klingons), or vice versa. By imprisoning the Organians and manipulating Federation and Klingon leaders, the Excalbians instigated the war, which they refer to as a "drama."

Kirk outfoxes the Excalbians, however, convincing them that they need to get directly involved in a "drama" themselves if they want to gain the ultimate knowledge of good and evil. He persuades them to fight the only beings who can provide a challenge for them—the Organians. The Excalbians free the Organians and they disappear to begin their private war, leaving the Klingons and the Federation to make peace or war of their own volition.

"Errand of War" is an action-packed story full of surprising plot twists. It uses characters from the 'I'V series—Kor and the Organians from "Errand of Mercy," the Excalbians from "The Savage Curtain"—and combines them in a way which is fresh and dramatically effective.

Interestingly enough, the moral of this story seems to be the opposite of that of "The Return of the Serpent." "Serpent" implies that a powerful guardian entity can be beneficial to a race and that the removal of such an overseer can be destructive. In "Errand of War," however, godlike manipulators are shown to be detrimental, and Kirk applauds their extrication from the affairs of the galaxy.

 

7) "New Frontiers," chapters 2-7—Star Trek #10-15, 1985, DC Comics—by Mike W. Barr, Tom Sutton, and Ricardo Villagran

Klingons...Romulans...epic starship battles...evil twins of the Enterprise gang—this six-part story has got it all.

In the TV episode "Mirror, Mirror," Kirk and his compatriots traveled to a parallel universe in which evil counterparts of the beloved Enterprise crew work for a ruthless Empire instead of a benevolent Federation.

This time around, the doppelgangers come gunning for the Federation. Bad-Kirk and his thugs bring the Mirror Universe Enterprise into Federation space and attack the Excelsior, which is carrying Good-Kirk and his pals. Good-Kirk finally defeats the evil duplicates, then takes the Excelsior into the parallel universe to head off the coming invasion. There they enlist the help of some resident freedom fighters commanded by David Marcus, a Mirror Universe duplicate of his dead son.

As I said earlier, I'm a sucker for sequels, and this sequel to "Mirror, Mirror" is a real extravaganza. Though it lacks the warmth and poetry of my favorite Trek episodes, it's got more starship battles than you can shake a tribble at, and I just plain get a kick out of it. The closer look at the Mirror Universe and its history is interesting, and there is wonderful irony in the appearance of the Mirror Enterprise and David Marcus, right after the demise of their respective counterparts in The Search for Spock. The ending of the story, in which David survives to go on fighting the Empire, is also a nice touch; After the tragic death of "his" David, Kirk can console himself with the knowledge that another David is still alive in a parallel universe—"just next door," in a sense.

 

8) "Fast Friends" and "Cure All"—Star Trek (Vol. 2) #5-6, 1990, DC Comics-by Peter David, James Fry, and Arne Starr

In this two-part story, the crew of the Enterprise is sent to New Brinden, a world besieged by a deadly plague. New Brinden's society is structured into a rigid caste system, and the plague has primarily stricken members of the lower caste; happy to see the "surplus population" diminished, the ruling class makes no effort to find a cure or seek help...until a member of the higher caste finally contracts the disease and commits suicide.

Fearing that the plague could spread further into the ruling class, New Brinden's Prefect gives Dr. McCoy only a limited amount of time to cure the infected citizens. When a previously untested cure fails to reverse the disease, the Prefect announces that he will simply exterminate all the plague victims.

After learning that the Klingons and Nasgul have put a price on Kirk's head, the Prefect proposes a new bargain: he will postpone the extermination of the "Lowlies" and allow Federation doctors to continue seeking a cure...but only if Kirk surrenders himself to the New Brinden government. Thanks to a covert action by a mysterious crewman, Ensign Fouton, the crisis is averted. The Prefect himself is infected by the plague and rescinds all his previous threats to kill the Lowlies.

Like many of the finest and most thought- provoking Trek episodes, this story provides a parable based on a situation which exists in contemporary society. The New Brinden plague, like the AIDS virus, is fatal, and hits hardest in the lower levels of society; neither disease inspired widespread attention or extensive efforts to find a cure until it spread into the ranks of the higher classes. Like the victims of the New Brinden disease, the victims of AIDS are often shunned and treated like pariahs; some people would just as soon let those infected with AIDS die, just as the Prefect has done with the afflicted Lowlies of his planet.

By presenting an extreme solution to the epidemic on New Brinden, a solution which we recognize as horrific, the story brings our own inhumanities toward the victims of AIDS more clearly into focus.

 

9) "Vicious Circle!"—Star Trek #33, l986, DC Comics—by Len Wein, Tom Sutton, and Ricardo Villagran

Thanks to a time warp, the contemporary Kirk and company meet themselves as they were 20 years ago. Talk about your mid-life crisis!

Kirk and his crew (manning the Excelsior at this point in the comic series' continuity) encounter the old Enterprise and come face-to-face with themselves as they appeared during the original five-year mission. Unfortunately, the Enterprise's time-trip has caused a powerful temporal storm; if the ship isn't returned to the past, the time-storm could rip apart the entire universe.

The past and future crew join forces and manage to throw the Enterprise back in time by using the Guardian of Forever. The time-storm ends and the two crews forget that their meeting ever happened.

Though "Vicious Circle!" isn't a very substantive tale, it's still a lot of fun. The idea of the modern crew meeting the original crew is enticing, and it's carried off quite effectively in this story. There are certainly some memorable and well-written scenes, especially those between the two Dr. McCoys, like this one: Young Bones: "Please—give me some hope for the future. Tell me Spock gets better with age." Older Bones: "Wish I could help you—but you know how hard it is for me to lie with a straight face!"

There are plenty of special scenes in "Vicious Circle!": Captain Kirk is thrilled to learn that he's destined for the admiralty; Spock finds out about his future death and resurrection but doesn't bat an eyelash; and Lt. Uhura is upset when she learns that after 20 years she still won't have a husband or children.

 

10) "A Warp in Space!"—Star Trek #49, l9'77, Gold Key Comics—by George Kashdan and A. McWilliams

In the TV episode "Metamorphosis," the Enterprise crew met an energy being called the Companion who was in love with the shipwrecked creator of the Warp Drive, Zefram Cochrane. The Companion merged with Nancy Hedford, a fatally-ill Federation commissioner, to save that woman's life and physically express her love for Zefram.

In "A Warp in Space!" the crew of the starship returns to the Companion's world because some experimental hyper-warp ships have disappeared in the vicinity of the planet. Aided by the Companion, who separates from Nancy and reverts to her energy form, the Enterprise travels through "a rip in the fabric of our universe" and emerges in a starless void. In the void, which happens to be the Companion's original home, Kirk and company find the missing ships—but they also encounter a swarm of cloudlike beings similar to the Companion. After a show of force, the beings reveal that the crews of the ships were all killed when they accidentally passed through the space rift. Though the beings were willing to let the Enterprise return home, they insisted that the Companion stay behind.

Using engine modifications suggested by Cochrane, the crew of the Enterprise manages to escape with the Companion. The Companion then recombines with Nancy Hedford, who nearly died without the life-sustaining symbiotic being. Nancy/the Companion is reunited with Cochrane, and they presumably live happily ever after.

Though the plot is fairly simplistic, and Cochrane looks nothing like he did in "Metamorphosis," "A Warp in Space!" is still an interesting sidebar to the Trek TV series. The story provides some hypothetical background for the character of the Companion and gives the well-loved alien some welcome exposure. The creative team turned out some capable renditions of the starship crew and didn't make them behave in ways which would be contradictory to their established personalities; this is a major improvement over many of the old Gold Key Trek comics.

If you can overlook the holes in the plot and the discrepancies with "Metamorphosis," you'll find this to be an entertaining sequel to one of the finest original Star Trek TV episodes.

 

*****

 

The Next Generation:

Big Guns vs. Lower Deckers

 

Could Star Trek: The Next Generation do without Guinan? Reg Barclay? Ro Laren?

Mot the barber?

Of course it could. The Big Guns--Picard, Riker, Data, Geordi, Troi, Beverly, and Worf--carry the show.

So what, if anything, do the bit players from the Enterprise-D's lower decks add to ST:TNG?

Illumination of the Big Guns, for one thing.

The Lower Deckers shine a light on surprising facets of the Big Guns. Guinan, for example, brings out a soulful warmth in Picard. Miles and Keiko O'Brien help Data explore human concepts of romance and marriage. Reg Barclay pushes all the Big Guns' buttons with his Adrian Monk-style hyperphobic oddness.

But that's not all the Lower Deckers accomplish.

They also make great cast filler, giving the show the ensemble flavor so fashionable in late 1980s/early '90s television. In the era of Hill Street Blues, St. Elsewhere, L.A. Law, and Thirtysomething, ensemble dramas were pure gold.

But ST:TNG is no Hill Street Blues. Picard still gets the lion's share of the attention, especially after the success of The Best of Both Worlds. The rest of the Big Guns dominate the remaining limelight, leaving the supporting crew to settle for scraps.

That's all the more reason to applaud the Lower Deckers. They do a lot with a little.

They're virtually nonexistent in season 1, and they fade out again in seasons 6 and 7. Still, in their limited appearances, they play a vital role in setting the course for the future of the Trek franchise.

They do it by adding diversity to a whitebread starship.

In the beginning, the Enterprise-D isn't much of a melting pot. The crew reflects a colonial model of race relations, with whites in the majority (Riker, Beverly, Data, Tasha, and Wesley), and white alpha male Picard (French by name but with an accent straight out of the British Empire) leading "assimilated" lesser powers (Betazoids, Vulcans, a Klingon, etc.) in an illusion of egalitarian power-sharing.

The Lower Deckers change this by adding diversity to the crew. In their heyday in seasons 2 through 5, the supporting players make the Enterprise-D a more multicultural place.

In doing so, they blaze a trail for future series.

The Enterprise-D gains a black bartender (Guinan), a Bajoran navigator (Ro Laren), a Japanese botanist (Keiko O'Brien) and a Japanese nurse (Alyssa Ogawa), among others.

The next series, Deep Space Nine, features a black man commanding a diverse crew of aliens (Trill, Bajoran, Founder, Klingon, Ferengi), with only one white male cast regular--ironically, one of the original Lower Deckers, Miles O'Brien.

Voyager continues the trend. A white woman leads a Latin American Indian, a black Vulcan, a half-Klingon woman, a Chinese male, a holographic doctor, and a Borg female. Again, the main crew includes a solitary white male--Tom Paris.

In DS9 and Voyager, the world of Star Trek looks more like a believable far-future community of peoples. The humble Lower Deckers help make this vision possible.

Their reward? Some get a chance to shine. Guinan saves the timeline in Yesterday's Enterprise. Miles O'Brien prevents war with the Cardassians in The Wounded. Ro Laren attends her own funeral in The Next Phase. Reg Barclay whips up warped holodeck versions of the Big Guns in Hollow Pursuits.

Then, the Lower Deckers vanish as if struck by a cloaking device. Guinan, Ro, and the O'Briens disappear in season 6 (though Ro and Miles each bow once more in season 7). By season 7, ST:TNG turns its focus on the Big Guns and beams the Lower Deckers into space.

It hardly seems fair that the supporting crew members are discarded so easily. They accomplished so much: revealing new facets of the core crew; giving the show an ensemble flavor; boosting a trend in diversity.

However, as the supporting crew fades, an episode comes along that serves as a tribute to their experience. Lower Decks in season 7 tells the story of four junior officers (including Nurse Ogawa), one of whom dies on a secret mission.

Lower Decks makes the ultimate statement about the supporting crew: their lives go on in parallel with those of the command crew--sometimes intersecting, sometimes even affecting the lives of their superior officers. They live, and sometimes die, as bit players in the shadow of larger events. Ultimately, like most of us, they are important only to each other.

This time, the supporting cast's role is clear: they represent the common man.

They represent us.

 

*****

 

Deep Space Nine:

Past Tense

 

Time. The final frontier. These are the voyages of Deep Time Nine. Our mission: to boldly experience time travel as no human has experienced it before...

Okay, so the show is called Deep Space Nine, and it doesn't have an opening narration about time being the final frontier...but maybe it should. After all, when the ST:DS9 crew isn't busy fighting the Dominion War or dealing with Bajoran politics, Cardassian duplicity, or Ferengi monkeyshines, they're as likely to explore another zone of time as another zone of space. It's as if the show's producers feel compelled to overcompensate for setting the series on a space station, proving they can still push the storytelling boundaries of travel through history as well as the galaxy.

It's a time-honored Star Trek tradition. In ST:TOS, Kirk and company visit the 1930s and 1960s. Spock stops by his own childhood in the animated Yesteryear. Picard meets Mark Twain in the 1890s in Time's Arrow. Two of the most successful Trek films, The Voyage Home and First Contact, revolve around trips through time.

ST:DS9 doesn't let its stationary starbase setting keep it locked in one time frame. As with its predecessors, ST:DS9 devotes some of its best episodes to time displacement. ST:TOS has City on the Edge of Forever. ST:TNG has Yesterday's Enterprise and All Good Things. ST:DS9 has Far Beyond the Stars, The Visitor, and Trials and Tribble-ations...episodes that arguably stand among the best of all televised and cinematic Star Trek.

These episodes also illustrate the sheer variety and inventiveness of time travel techniques featured in ST:DS9. Forget about the "slingshot effect" and the Guardian of Forever. In The Visitor, Ben Sisko ping-pongs through his son's future when a warp core accident distorts his temporal signature. In Trials and Tribble-ations, the mystical Orb of Time whips up a trip to Kirk's Enterprise circa ST:TOS. Other time jumps come courtesy of a transporter accident (Past Tense) and warp drive sabotage (Little Green Men).

The definition of time travel expands further with visits to past eras via changes in perception. While the physical body remains fixed in time and space, the mind's eye swims the timestream. Why risk your body and defy the laws of physics when you can live history through dreams (Things Past), religious visions (Wrongs Darker Than Death or Night), or hallucinatory delusions (Far Beyond the Stars)?

If perception matters so much, aren't holosuite fantasies a kind of time travel, too? Thanks to the holosuite, the crew of DS9 visits 1960s-era Las Vegas, starring Vic Fontaine (His Way, It's Only a Paper Moon, Badda-Bing Badda-Bang). Bashir gets a taste of the 007-style life of a 1960s secret agent in Our Man Bashir. Then, of course, there are Bashir and O'Brien's offscreen holosuite adventures in historical settings like the Battle of the Alamo, the Battle of Clontarf, and the Battle of Britain. In each case, our heroes experience other eras so solid and authentic that they could just as well be the real thing, reached by old-fashioned slingshot effect or Guardian or Q.

It all goes to show that time and the traveling of it might not be as rigidly linear as some might have thought. Instead of a straight-arrow timeline running from past to future, the heroes of ST:DS9 inhabit a multidirectional, multidimensional timescape, accessible and perceptible by any number of means.

At the heart of this new timescape live the noncorporeal wormhole Prophets. These godlike entities experience time in a nonlinear way, seeing past, present, and future nonsequentially and opening doors for others to do the same. Their significance is obvious from the first episode, Emissary, in which they challenge Ben Sisko's notions of linear time. The central totem of ST:TNG might be Q, who warps conventional perceptions of reality, but the totems of ST:DS9 are the Prophets, who warp conventional perceptions of time.

The Prophets influence a crew who increasingly experience time in nonlinear ways: Miles O'Brien lives a 21-year prison sentence in his mind in the blink of an eye (Hard Time); 8-year-old Molly O'Brien instantly ages to 18 and back again thanks to a time warp (Time's Orphan); and the core crew meet a planetful of their own descendants in the here and now (Children of Time). In the show's final episode, What You Leave Behind, the Prophets' chosen emissary, Ben Sisko, undergoes the greatest temporal transformation, stepping outside time altogether by entering the Prophets' Celestial Temple, where "time doesn't exist."

All this temporal hopscotch leads to one big question: So what? Typically, time travel episodes of ST:DS9 end in the same way as time travel episodes of other Trek or science fiction TV series: the only change is that our hero or heroes learn a lesson. Otherwise, history is set right, the featured time displacement ends, and the timestream resumes its familiar course. ST:DS9 time travel stories are fun, but ultimately kind of pointless...unless their very abundance is itself the point. Perhaps, by featuring so many time-related tales, ST:DS9 suggests that time really is as much a final frontier as space.

If so, where's the advantage in conquering it? That it could enable us to confront the mistakes of yesterday, as Odo does in Things Past? That we could learn the truth about our lives and make peace with lost loved ones, as Kira does in Wrongs Darker Than Death or Night? Or does the shift in our perception of time hold the potential for a wider-reaching and more fundamental change?

By seeing time as a nonlinear, unified whole, humanity could see that the past and future are equally as important as the present. Maybe that's the one lesson we would do best to take from the Prophets and ST:DS9. We can no longer afford to dwell in an isolated moment in time, exempt from responsibility to learn from history and shape the future in positive ways.

 

*****

 

Voyager:

Woman in Charge

 

On one side of the Captain stands a man of emotion, a human who argues in favor of compassion. On the Captain's other side stands a man of logic, a Vulcan who advises in favor of dispassionate reason. It's a familiar template, one that works as well for Kathryn Janeway as for other notable Starfleet captains. After all, Janeway does bring Voyager all the way home from the Delta Quadrant with a little help from Chakotay and Tuvok.

But how much of an impact do they--and Janeway's other advisors--really have on her command style? Sure, their voices are prominent, but do they alter Janeway's approach to problem-solving? Do they temper her decisions...and if so, is it for better or worse?

To get to the answers, let's start with Star Trek: Voyager's first episode, "Caretaker." When Voyager and a fugitive Maquis ship are stranded in the distant Delta Quadrant, Janeway unites the surviving crews of both ships to form a single functional unit. She sets the stage by putting in place the command structure that will carry through the rest of the series, and she demonstrates the decision-making style that will also thread throughout Voyager's missions: Janeway turns to others for facts and opinions, but she always reserves final authority for herself. And she always knows best.

Her decisions can be controversial, but they lead to positive outcomes in the best interests of her crew and the Federation. In "Caretaker," for example, Janeway decides to destroy the Array, stranding Voyager and the Maquis far from home...not a popular choice to some crew members, but one that saves the Ocampa species in keeping with Starfleet's code of ethics. In "Tuvix," Janeway decides to split the merged being, Tuvix--created by a transporter accident--into his component parts, Tuvok and Neelix. It's another controversial call, one opposed by the Doctor...but it leads to the return of Tuvok and Neelix as independent entities and valued members of the crew. In "Equinox, Part II," Janeway decides to use an uncooperative member of the rogue starship Equinox's crew as bait for hostile phase-shifting aliens. It's a move Chakotay opposes so strongly, he disobeys Janeway's orders and intervenes...but things still work out for the best when the threatened crewman leads Voyager to a species with knowledge of the aliens' secrets.

As we see from the events of "Caretaker," "Tuvix," and "Equinox, Part II," Janeway is Voyager's final authority, equipped with decision-making skills and instincts that lead her to make the best decisions time and again. She looks to her advisors for expertise and novel insights, but they don't sway her decisions...usually.

Sometimes, Janeway does allow her advisors a stronger role in steering her decisions. For example, in "State of Flux," Tuvok convinces Janeway that Seska is the traitor supplying Starfleet technology to the Kazon...and as a result, Janeway is able to thwart Seska. In "The Omega Directive," Chakotay talks Janeway into confiding in the senior staff about an ultra-top-secret mission to destroy the Omega molecule...and it pays off. With the help of her team, Janeway obliterates the deadly molecule, which could have made warp travel impossible in the Delta Quadrant.

In "State of Flux" and "The Omega Directive," Janeway lets her advisors sway her decisions, and things work out well...but in other situations, the results aren't always so good. Case in point, "Alliances." When Chakotay and Tuvok get the bright idea to form an alliance with the Kazon and their enemies, the Trabe, Janeway gives in and decides to give it a try. The result? A debacle. The Trabe make a power play and betray everyone, making the Kazon hate Voyager more than ever.

"Alliances" is one example of the poor judgment exhibited by Janeway's senior staff...but there are plenty of others throughout the series. Tuvok, at one point, rashly mind-melds with a psychotic killer, unleashing his own killer instinct ("Meld"). Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres seeks pain-inducing thrills in the holodeck with the safety protocols off ("Extreme Risk"). As for Chakotay, his instincts more than once leave something to be desired. In "Maneuvers," he takes rogue solo action to keep Starfleet transporter technology out of the hands of the Kazon, endangering Voyager's command codes in the process. He disobeys orders while saving an ancient Mars probe in "One Small Step," nearly killing himself and his salvage team when things go wrong. And then there's "Scorpion." When Janeway falls into a coma, Chakotay reneges on her deal to work with the Borg to stop an invasion by Species 8472...at least until Janeway wakes up and takes back the reins. If not for her, Voyager and the Borg would not have defeated Species 8472, and the galaxy itself could have been purged of life.

That's right. The galaxy itself. Species 8472's goal was to wipe out all life in the galaxy. If Janeway hadn't stopped them, they could have killed the Milky Way. All thanks to Chakotay.

Notice a pattern? Maybe some folks just aren't cut out for the captain's chair. Janeway, on the other hand, is the one person Voyager can't do without. Her final authority is what holds the ship and crew together and propels them to their destiny. Janeway might seek the counsel of her advisors, but she only really trusts one person: herself. Throughout Voyager's struggles, she holds true to her faith in herself and her judgment, never losing sight of her confidence and resolve.

She faces enemies from within and without--traitors from her own crew, hostile holograms, Kazon, Vidiians, Hirogen, Q, Captain Ransom of the Equinox, you name it. Janeway endures a "Year of Hell" in which her ship and crew are battered to the point of extinction. She pushes Voyager through the heart of Borg territory, battling the Borg at every turn...even being assimilated herself. She goes through all this and more, and she never loses faith in herself.

That's why it's so fitting that the one person who finally helps her get Voyager home is her future self, Admiral Janeway. Who else but a second Janeway could change the ship's destiny, sending it back to Earth decades early?

In the show's last episode, "Endgame," Admiral Janeway travels back through time and space, returning to Voyager in the Delta Quadrant with a plan to get the ship home early via the Borg's transwarp hub. Captain Janeway opposes the plan at first, preferring to destroy the hub and cripple the Borg...but Admiral Janeway brings her around. Together, they do it all--sending Voyager home and destroying the hub. They do it by sharing final authority the only way they ever can--with each other. With themselves.

Perhaps their command style is flawed. After all, is anyone else onboard Voyager really prepared to fill Janeway's shoes if she dies? And doesn't such a strong-Captain style increase the chance of disaster if the Captain's judgment becomes impaired?

One thing's for sure, though: Janeway uses the right style for the right ship at the right time in the right set of circumstances. She lets her staff do what they do best--advise and support--and always saves the last word for herself.

And no one can argue with her results.

 

*****

 

Trek It! Part Three:

Trek Fail!

 

Have you read the Star Trek novel that tells the story of Redjac's eternal battle with immortal Flint from "Requiem for Methuselah?" What about the comic book story that takes Pavel Chekov to the Soviet planet Soyuz II, where he meets the ghost of Yuri Gagarin? Did you see the episode of Voyager that features Tuvok facing pon farr while the crew battles an alien who dies in the first act but keeps coming back for more? How about the weekly web serial bringing together a team of time-travelers including Tasha Yar, K'Ehleyr, and a humanoid avatar of the Guardian of Forever?

These are just a few of the Star Trek projects that I've developed and pitched to book editors and website producers through the years. Some were fails, epic and otherwise, and some were not.

This book will explore these many Trek pitches and proposals. As you read them, see if you can guess whether they went on to become FAILS or UNFAILS. After each one, I'll give you the answer and tell you the true story behind the story. In doing so, I'll open a window on my Trek writing career and give you a look at my creative process. Why do some ideas win contests while others become epic fails? This book will give you some insight, and some glimpses of fascinating Star Trek worlds that never were. You can't read about them anywhere else but here.

Looking back at my Trek writing career provides tantalizing glimpses of projects that could have been, along with the ones that did come to life. Would the unrealized adventures of Kirk, Picard, Sisko, Janeway, and company have shone brightly as worthy additions to the Star Trek saga on film, online, and in print? Or did these fails spare us from tales that wouldn't have measured up to the ones that made the cut? You be the judge.

 

Impulse Speed: Fan Fiction

My introduction to the world of Star Trek was the reverse of the usual route. My love of Trek started with the printed page instead of the T.V. screen. As a child in the 1970s, I was hooked on the adaptations of the original series episodes written by James Blish and the animated episodes by Alan Dean Foster. After getting into the books, I watched syndicated episodes of the original series, which truly blew my mind and hooked me for good.

After becoming addicted to Trek through the print novelizations, I flipped when Bantam began issuing original novels and anthologies based on the series. Though these novels and anthologies were few and far between, I eagerly snatched up and devoured every one of them. Because of those books, starting with Spock Must Die and Star Trek: The New Voyages, I first got the idea that I might someday be able to write my own original stories about Trek. I remember fantasizing often about walking into the local bookstore and seeing my name on the spine of a Star Trek book on the shelf.

Eventually, I took the fantasy a step further and wrote Trek fan fiction. This early work was far from perfect, but it did feature some interesting ideas. For example, my unfinished novel, Beyond the Final Barrier, features an alliance between the Federation and the crystalline Tholians. Working together, the Federation and Tholians plan an excursion to another galaxy...at least until the Tholians' irredeemably evil sister species, the Yumerians, launch a blitzkrieg attack.

Another project centers around a killer Vulcan suffering from a disease that drives his emotions out of control. A mission to stop him turns deadly when a human bounty hunter who hates Vulcans--or "Points"--comes gunning for Mister Spock.

Then there's "The Sacrifice," in which the Enterprise crew encounters a Klingon ambassador and his assistant, K'Vill Kirzz, an actual good-hearted Klingon. K'Vill came along years before DC Comics' friendly Klingon Konom and Star Trek: The Next Generation's Worf...though K'Vill never did see print. Maybe, in an alternate universe where "The Sacrifice" was published, he made history as the first Klingon "good guy" in Star Trek.

 

Warp One: Teleplays

For a true Trek fan like me, the movies were pure Nirvana. Star Trek: The Motion Picture was like a religious experience; I basked in every frame like it was a revelation from God Himself (or was that V'Ger, "the God Machine"). Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan was equally wondrous for different reasons; the film's emotional power, culminating in the death of Spock, left me reeling (and brought me back for multiple viewings).

Star Trek III: The Search for Spock was almost as strong, and Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home was just plain funny and exciting. Each new movie added fuel to the fire of my love for Star Trek and my desire to become a part of it someday as a writer.

Then came Star Trek: The Next Generation, a TV sequel that brought new weekly adventures to the small screen. Preceded by bad buzz, the show started out shaky...then went on to become a worthy successor to the original series. Led by Gene Roddenberry himself, the creative team had an impressive grasp of what made the Trek universe great and how to reproduce it with a brand new crew. Best of all, as I soon discovered, they would consider unsolicited script submissions. If accompanied by a signed release, scripts would actually be reviewed and considered without the need for a high-powered Hollywood agent.

It boggled my mind. If I wrote a Star Trek: The Next Generation script, and the producers liked it, my script could become an actual episode of the show! How could I pass up such an amazing opportunity?

After studying various sample scripts from the show, I sat down and wrote my own, called "A Grain From A Balance." Take a look at the summary and see if you can guess what happened. Was "A Grain From A Balance" a fail or an unfail?

 

Star Trek: The Next Generation: "A Grain From A Balance"

FAIL or UNFAIL?

The story begins with Data, whose nose grows Pinocchio-style when he tells a lie. The growth is caused by two travelers from a subatomic universe who are passing through on the way to a higher level of reality. The travelers, "One" and "Two," try to persuade members of the crew to join their quest...but they just want to drain the crew's life-energy to fuel their travel. In the end, the Enterprise crew thwart the travelers' plan, preventing them from ascending to the next level. But the journey continues when One sacrifices himself to give Two the energy she needs to travel onward and find the ultimate answers to the nature of existence.

The title comes from a verse in the Book of Wisdom in the Bible: "Before you, the whole universe is as a grain from a balance or a drop of morning dew come down upon the earth." I thought it was the perfect quote from which to draw a title for an episode about the grandeur and immensity of infinity.

 

FAIL CALL: "A Grain From a Balance" - FAIL or UNFAIL?

FAIL! How cool it would have been if "A Grain From A Balance" had become an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. Unfortunately, the script became an epic fail because I made one simple mistake: I never mailed it.

I finished it and polished it, but I never believed in it enough to send it to the producers. And that's too bad, because I've looked at it since then, and I think it could have sold. Or at least generated enough interest to inspire the producers to call me in for a pitch session. But now I'll never know.

Thankfully, though, I went on to learn from that mistake and became more courageous about mailing what I wrote. In fact, I made another run at writing a Trek script, and this time, I did submit it to the producers.

The script, "Vendetta," is a Voyager tale focusing on the crew's struggle with an opponent who dies but keeps returning to fight again. The story also addresses the question of what a Vulcan aboard Voyager would do when pon farr, the irresistible and destructive mating drive, kicks into gear while the ship is still stranded in the Delta Quadrant.

Check out the following summary and see what you think happened to this project.

Star Trek: Voyager: "Vendetta" - FAIL or UNFAIL?

Alien Klashar Zule attacks Voyager, accusing the crew of taking everything he holds dear. He says they've battled twice before, though the crew has no memory of this. After Klashar dies in the fight, Voyager pursues a stolen shuttle piloted by Tuvok, who is undergoing pon farr and has kidnapped B'Elanna. The shuttle crashes on an alien world. Voyager meets and defeats Klashar twice more, and each time, he remembers nothing of their previous encounter. This is because Klashar is moving back through time; their first meeting was the last from his point of view. On the planet's surface, Tuvok tries to relieve the pon farr by mating with B'Elanna but doesn't go through with it. Instead, he goes on a rampage and destroys some pods which turn out to contain Klashar's hibernating family. Voyager's crew was unable to prevent this tragedy, which sets in motion Klashar's time-travel attacks. In the end, Tuvok dissipates the pon farr by using an image of his wife on Voyager's holodeck.

"Vendetta" was a fun script to write and a stronger effort across the board than "A Grain from a Balance." I had high hopes as I printed it up and submitted it to the producers of Voyager. Maybe, just maybe, I could fulfill my dream in the most exciting way imaginable, by having my script become the basis of a televised episode.

 

FAIL CALL: Star Trek: Voyager: "Vendetta" - FAIL or UNFAIL?

FAIL! "Vendetta" was received and considered by the Voyager team but did not make the cut. Once again, my stab at Star Trek had become an epic fail.

Nevertheless, I still think the script was a solid effort and would have made a great episode. One story element, in fact, predicted a plot twist in a later episode of the show. In the seventh season episode "Body and Soul," Tuvok undergoes pon farr while stranded in the Delta Quadrant and relieves it the same way he did in "Vendetta," by using the ship's holodeck.

I must have been doing something right if I was thinking along the same lines as the show's writers. Maybe I was getting closer to my first big break in the world of Star Trek after all.

 

Warp 2: Strange New Worlds

In the late 1990s, I found out about the perfect opportunity for a wannabe Star Trek writer like me. Pocket Books, publisher of official Trek fiction, sponsored the nationwide Strange New Worlds contest. Amateur writers could submit short Trek stories which would be judged by editors John Ordover, Dean Wesley Smith, and Paula Block. The winning stories would be published in a Pocket Books collection titled--wait for it--Strange New Worlds.

Maybe I'd dropped the ball by not mailing my Next Generation script, but I wasn't about to miss out on Strange New Worlds. Finally, I had an opportunity to make my Trek writing dream come true beyond the fan fiction realm.

After reading about the first volume of SNW in an issue of Star Trek Communicator magazine, I cranked out a Harry Mudd/Grand Nagus Zek piece titled "When Harry Met Zekky" and submitted it to the editors. I had a ball bringing these two characters together and letting the sparks fly.

 

"When Harry Met Zekky" - FAIL or UNFAIL?

In "When Harry Met Zekky," "hew-mon" Harry Mudd and Ferengi Zek (a DaiMon at the time) try to out-con each other in order to plunder a fabulously wealthy and (seemingly) naïve species, the Forbosians. Harry uses his silver tongue to win over the Forbosians and threatens to unleash their invasion fleet on Zek's homeworld if he doesn't pay a king's ransom. Zek turns the tables, but the Forbosians have a surprise in store; they've been planning all along to invade both Earth and Ferenginar. In the end, Harry the master con man wins the day, not only ending the invasion threat but obtaining a payoff of incalculable wealth.

Zek's admiration knows no bounds...but his ambition is even greater. He decides to double-cross Harry and take the whole prize for himself: "Thanks to his brilliant work with Harry Mudd, Zek knew that his name would be known and honored by every Ferengi. He had made the big score he'd been looking for, the biggest. It was the kind of history-making swindle that made DaiMons into heroes...and, sometimes, heroes into Grand Naguses. It was hard to believe. Even now, with the prize laid out before him, it seemed like a dream. Not only had he convinced the richest beings in the quadrant to give him all their wealth, but they were paying him to take it away! It was a masterpiece of chicanery, a stroke of genius...and he was still so young! He was amazed that he had pulled it off! Well, he and Harry Mudd had pulled it off. Harry Mudd. Soon to be known as 'old what's-his-name.'" So Zek takes the money and runs, leaving Harry selling makeup to a certain pasty-faced alien species who could use a little color: the Borg.

 

FAIL CALL: "When Harry Met Zekky" - FAIL or UNFAIL?

FAIL! In spite of what I still think is a great title, "When Harry Met Zekky" did not make the cut for Strange New Worlds. I was devastated...but the letdown didn't last long. Soon enough, Pocket Books announced a Strange New Worlds II contest for the following year. Determined to succeed this time, I sat down and wrote a second story titled "Ilia's Gift."

This one is a tribute to the Star Trek II TV series that was developed in the 1970s for a proposed Paramount network that failed to come together at the time. Though the show never saw the light of day, several characters created for it were incorporated into Star Trek: The Motion Picture: Commander Will Decker and bald Deltan navigator Lieutenant Ilia played major roles in the movie; Vulcan first officer Xon was only given a cameo, appearing briefly when his body was turned inside-out in a transporter accident onboard the refurbished Enterprise.

I liked to think about these three characters and what Star Trek II would have been like, so I made them the stars of the story. In "Ilia's Gift," I visit their alternate reality and offer an explanation of why their adventures never materialized as they should have. I also answer one of the questions that always nagged at me about Trek: in a universe where time travel exists, why hasn't a hostile species simply gone back in time and eliminated the Federation? (I wrote this story before the film Star Trek: First Contact, in which the Borg attempted just such a strategy.)

"Ilia's Gift" – FAIL or UNFAIL?

"Ilia's Gift" follows the last adventure of Star Trek II's Decker, Ilia, and Xon. The story opens years after the start of the second mission of the Enterprise: "If the first five-year mission had been a wild ride, the second--Ilia's tour--had been the wildest ride ever. She, Decker, and Xon, new kids at the start of the second five years, now were toughened, cagey vets of the interstellar frontier."

While investigating a temporal disturbance, the Enterprise team discovers that the Romulans have used time machines to send back an invasion force to attack Earth before the Federation can be born. Decker, Ilia, and Xon follow the Romulans into the past to try to stop them, only to learn that the timeline has already been changed. A Romulan-Earth War which was never meant to happen has broken out and could lead to the subjugation of humanity.

Ultimately, the Enterprise trio disrupt the invasion enough to ensure an Earth victory...but only Xon makes it back to the future after the fight. He arrives twenty years before he left and discovers he is literally a man out of time. The timeline as he knew it has been drastically altered; in this new history, Xon was never born. He is a living paradox without a home, so he creates a new destiny for himself. Xon goes to live on Delta, where he serves as the guardian and tutor of an alternate version of one of his beloved teammates--Ilia, reborn in this timeline with a fresh start. In the end, Xon gives her what will be a cherished gift: he arranges for her to meet the young Will Decker who has also been reborn in this new timeline.

 

FAIL CALL: "Ilia's Gift" - FAIL or UNFAIL?

FAIL! I had a lot of fun writing "Ilia's Gift," but it didn't make the cut for Strange New Worlds. It did, however, lead to an encouraging note from editor Dean Wesley Smith. Dean's note inspired me to try again with a new story for Strange New Worlds III, a story that made me reach higher than ever in exploring the possibilities of Star Trek fiction.

 

Warp 3: Whatever You Do, Don't Read This Story

At first, I wracked my brain for weeks, trying to come up with a truly innovative idea for my Strange New Worlds III entry. Then, finally, the idea came to me. It literally burst out of my subconscious fully formed, and I couldn't wait to get it down on paper. Though I wasn't sure if it was something that had been done before, I knew it was something that I personally had never seen.

"Whatever You Do, Don't Read This Story" – FAIL or UNFAIL?

For this piece, I made the story itself a character, interacting directly with the reader. It is a story with a mind of its own, a sentient story that makes people--and sometimes whole species--kill themselves when they read or hear it. The Enterprise crew encounters the story on a post-apocalyptic world, its latest victim. When crew members hear it, they turn self-destructive...except Data, who isn't affected. As the crew attack each other and the ship, Data saves the day by defusing the story in a way that leaves it helpless: he edits it. By exposing the crew to the edited version, he switches off their violent impulses and returns them to normal. Even in its edited state, however, the story holds out hope that it will find someone who can restore it to its deadly form--the reader: "I might not have the old moves anymore, but I'm stickin' to your memory like white on rice. And maybe this backtalk thing I've got going is enough of a gimmick to keep me on the tip of your tongue. Maybe you'll pass me along to somebody else, et cetera.

And who knows? Maybe I'll meet the right nut someday

I mean genius

Who can fill in those blanks like before, maybe better

And we'll get a killer sequel in the works. And I do mean killer."

While writing "Whatever You Do, Don't Read This Story," I worked hard to infuse each page with as much energy as possible. I gave the story multiple levels, both by layering a story within a story within a story and by making it a metaphor for the way that all stories have power and a life of their own. Real-world stories might not possess malevolent sentience, but they certainly have the potential to inspire us to take action for good or ill.

As for the story's snarky self-narrative, it was a blast to write. Appropriately enough, the text rushed out of me as if indeed it possessed a mind of its own.

 

FAIL CALL: "Whatever You Do, Don't Read This Story" - FAIL or UNFAIL?

UNFAIL! When the story was done, I sent it off to Pocket Books and hoped for the best. The third time turned out to be the charm, and then some. Not only did "Whatever You Do, Don't Read This Story" make the cut, it won third prize in the Strange New Worlds III contest.

I'd come a giant step closer to achieving my dream. A Star Trek book featuring my work would appear on the shelf at my local bookstore...and bookstores across the country and around the world, too. Months after the award announcement, when I walked into the store and found that book on the shelf, I experienced one of the most rewarding and intense moments of my life.

 

The Secret Heart of Zolaluz

With the third place win for Strange New Worlds III in hand, I looked ahead to my next step on the Trek writing ladder. The choice was clear: Pocket had announced a Strange New Worlds IV contest, and I was eligible to participate again. According to the rules, contestants could win three times before losing their eligibility.

But could I write another winning story? I was determined to give it my best effort.

Looking for an idea, I found inspiration in the life of a friend. At the time, I was working as the director of public relations at a college. One of the students at the school, a Central American girl, had a disability that limited the use of her legs, but she never let it keep her down. She faced a multitude of struggles in her daily life, and she eventually had to return home to a dangerous and economically depressed homeland, yet she remained perpetually upbeat and succeeded in all the challenges that she faced. I wanted to explore the motivation of someone like her in a work of fiction, and I found the perfect counterpoint in the character of Voyager's Seven of Nine. Seven's story, which was really this inspiring disabled girl's story, became "The Secret Heart of Zolaluz," my entry in the Strange New Worlds IV contest.

"The Secret Heart of Zolaluz" – FAIL or UNFAIL?

In "The Secret Heart of Zolaluz," Seven and Captain Janeway crash-land on a jungle planet embroiled in conflict. Janeway is taken prisoner, and Seven is badly injured, unable to effect a rescue. A disabled local woman named Zolaluz renders assistance, sheltering Seven from the authorities and treating her injuries. The likelihood of saving Janeway and getting back to Voyager seems so remote, however, that Seven grapples with depression and hopelessness. But she finds inspiration in the optimism and perseverance of Zolaluz, which enables her to find new reservoirs of strength. With the help of Zolaluz and a band of similarly afflicted outcasts, Seven infiltrates the enemy camp and extracts Janeway. They manage to escape and return to Voyager, thanks to a final sacrifice by Zolaluz, who loses an arm while saving Seven from a machete attack. As Seven leaves Zolaluz's world, she reflects on the lessons she's learned from the indomitable woman: "Who could live such a hard life without harboring regrets or self-pity? Who could be so scarred and not resent those who were free of damage? Who could witness unspeakable acts and still have a sense of humor? Who could lose everything and everyone they'd ever loved and somehow still find more to give? If Zolaluz could do it, then so could Seven."

By bringing together Zolaluz and Seven, I was able to shine a light on the struggle with depression and the human will to triumph over all limitations from within and without. It's a theme that has great personal significance to me.

I poured my heart into writing this story. When I finished, I thought I'd accomplished something noteworthy. I felt strongly that this entry would succeed in the Strange New World IV contest.

 

FAIL CALL: "The Secret Heart of Zolaluz" - FAIL or UNFAIL?

FAIL! This one didn't make the final list of winners. I was disappointed, to say the least; I'd put so much into "Zolaluz," I couldn't believe it hadn't made a better showing.

At least I would have another shot, since Pocket Books decided to move forward with Strange New Worlds V. And, though I didn't know it at the time, "The Secret Heart of Zolaluz" was destined to find a place in the universe of Star Trek fiction after all. I should have known; nothing could keep Zolaluz down, so it made sense that her story would bounce back, too.

 

Warp 4: The Shoulders of Giants

After winning third prize in Strange New Worlds III, then failing in the follow-up contest, I wanted to pull out all the stops for Strange New Worlds V. I needed to dazzle the editors so much that they wouldn't be able to turn down my entry.

Working from that motivation, I came up with "The Shoulders of Giants." "Shoulders" evolved from my impulse to see how much I could pack into one story falling within Strange New Worlds' 7500-word limit. My original idea was to show the varying effects made on a single civilization by every known Enterprise captain. I revised this plan, limiting the captains to four: Archer (largely unknown then, as the Enterprise series had yet to premiere), Kirk, Garrett, and Picard.

Once I'd made up my mind to follow this framework, I decided to vary the kinds of stories told within the overall story as much as possible, including variations on a religious text, a quest fantasy, a war story, and a murder mystery. I also decided to tell each story from an alien point of view using a wide range of narrators, including the alien equivalents of an adult male, a 12-year-old boy, and an old woman. I then added plenty of references to Trek lore, from "Vegan choriomeningitis" to Narendra III to Armus.

And so the story took shape.

"The Shoulders of Giants" – FAIL or UNFAIL?

It starts with an encounter between Captain Archer and the primitive, plant-based Kolyati people, who think he's a god and misinterpret his words as a commandment equating murder with holiness. Many years later, Captain Kirk's crew visit the Kolyati, who have developed a society based on religious murder-sacrifice. When McCoy is mortally wounded, a rebel leader abducts him, leading Kirk and Spock on a trail to a forbidden hospital facility. The rebels save McCoy's life, and Kirk brings the death-worshippers around to a new way of thinking, planting a seed that he hopes will change their murderous society for the better.

The next captain to visit the Kolyati is Rachel Garrett (as seen in the Next Generation episode "Yesterday's Enterprise"). Inspired by Kirk's ideas, the Kolyati have gone from a society of killers to a race of total pacifists...but this change has left them vulnerable to Romulan invaders. Working with Klingon allies, Garrett helps the Kolyati people find their inner warriors and save their world.

Which leads to the era of The Next Generation. In the final segment of the story, planet Kolya has become a peaceful place...but that peace is jeopardized by a serial killer on the loose. Working with a curmudgeonly old local cop named Nyda, Picard investigates the crimes, searching for clues to the killer's identity. In the end, though, Nyda is the one who solves the case, revealing the killer as none other than Armus (Tasha Yar's murderer from "Skin of Evil") in the body of Will Riker. Nyda saves the day, driving out Armus and proving that the Kolyati have become mature enough to handle their own affairs.

The story ends with an epilogue jumping even further forward in time to the first Kolyati space shot. A Kolyati leader looks back, assessing the impact of Starfleet and the Federation on his world, concluding that the net result was a good one. Now the Kolyati people stand on the verge of joining the interstellar community and making their own contribution to other species who might need a hand up the ladder.

"The Shoulders of Giants," as you can see, was chock full of details, characterization, ideas, and action. I was pleased that I managed to fit so much into the story, including personal stakes and character arcs for each narrator and captain. My favorite part of this story, however, might just be the story of the old woman, Nyda, who has the chutzpah to refer to Picard, Riker, and La Forge as Snooty, the Bearded Weirdo, and the Wallflower, respectively.

But did it all work? Would it make the grade when I submitted it to the Strange New Worlds editors? I held my breath and dropped the envelope in the mail.

 

FAIL CALL: "The Shoulders of Giants" - FAIL or UNFAIL?

UNFAIL! "The Shoulders of Giants" received an honorable mention and would appear in Strange New Worlds Volume V. My hard work had paid off with a second breakthrough.

Now what would I do for an encore?

 

Madborg

After scoring my second Strange New Worlds publication, I felt like I was on a roll. I had Trek publishing credentials, and I knew editors at Pocket Books. It was time to strike while the iron was hot, I thought, and try to sell my first full-length Trek novel to Pocket.

Which Trek era would I choose to write about? Since Voyager was on the air at the time, that was the one I picked. And since the Borg were such exciting antagonists on the show, I knew I wanted to write about them. But I also wanted to give them a new twist.

So I came up with Madborg, in which the Voyager crew face the threat of an overwhelming force of insane Borg in the Delta Quadrant. Only by uniting the quadrant's disparate species into a proto-Federation can Janeway and her team hope to end the threat of the Madborg and their leader, the Borg King, Sequitur.

After developing a detailed outline of the novel, I pitched it to the Trek books team. I was so in love with the story, I was convinced I would get the go-ahead to write the book.

Star Trek: Voyager: Madborg – FAIL OR UNFAIL?

Time Frame: Stardate 54910.5

Between the 7^th season episodes "Renaissance Man" (Stardate 54890.7) and "Endgame" (Stardate 54973.4). (Neelix is gone.)

Introduction

• The Madborg assimilate a ship's crew in horrific fashion.
• Voyager is chased by the Borg to Bedlam's solar system. The Borg stop at the system's rim. More Borg cubes join them, blocking all escape routes.
• Voyager can't leave the system because of the waiting Borg...and Janeway wants to know why the Borg won't enter. Seven tells her about Bedlam and the legend of the Day of Reckoning...and Janeway sends an Away Team to the surface of the one inhabited world: Chakotay, Seven, Chell (Bolian), Dalby (malcontent), Terek (Bajoran). Janeway hopes the team will find something to aid in their escape from the system.

Voyager

• The Madborg attack Voyager and drive it away from Bedlam.
• The Borg Queen comes to Voyager alone, in a transport pod launched by one of the cubes, and proposes an alliance to defeat the rogue Madborg.
• The Borg Queen taunts and teases Harry Kim.
• The Borg Queen tries to intimidate Naomi and shows contempt for Icheb as a Borg reject.
• As the Queen and crew work on a plan, Harry awakens as a Borg sleeper agent. (As suggested in the episode "Unimatrix Zero.")
• Harry assimilates crewmates, including Tom Paris, except for Janeway, Tuvok, B'Elanna, The Doctor, Icheb, Naomi, Marla Gilmore and Noah Lessing (Marla and Noah are from the two-part episode "Equinox.") Most of the crew is assimilated, but in a limited fashion, with implants generated by nanoprobes, not heavy prosthetic hardware.
• The Queen reveals that Harry has been a sleeper agent since he was compromised by Borg implants in "Collective." She not only wants to destroy the Madborg, but Bedlam as well, because this is the "Day of Reckoning," when the Bedlamites are supposed to rise up and wipe out the Borg, according to legend.
• Janeway, Tuvok and Naomi flee the ship in the Delta Flyer. (Janeway is unconscious from a phaser blast.)
• B'Elanna, who is pregnant, single-handedly fights the Borg to save her unborn child's life.
• The Borg Queen orders preparations to use Voyager's quantum torpedoes to start an atmospheric chemical chain reaction that will wipe out all life on Bedlam.
• The Doctor and Icheb fight Voyager's Borg crew.
• B'Elanna fights for her life, but is cornered...by the Borg Tom Paris.
• The Borg Queen contacts the King of the Borg and proposes a cease-fire and alliance. She suggests they work together to destroy the Bedlamites and head off the Day of Reckoning. He refuses, saying that he has come to Bedlam to join the Day of Reckoning and exterminate the Borg.
• The Doctor and Icheb continue to fight and run. Their attempts to retake the ship's systems fail.
• The Borg Queen learns that calculations and preparations for the quantum torpedo launch have been completed, and she orders the launch.
• On the verge of assimilation, B'Elanna is rescued by Gilmore and Lessing of the Equinox. They set out for Engineering.
• Before the torpedoes can be launched, the Borg-controlled Voyager is attacked by the Borg sphere.
• Icheb tells the Doctor to reactivate the Borg-killing pathogen in his system. When the Doctor refuses, Icheb gets him to switch to the Emergency Command Hologram ...who agrees not only to reactivate the pathogen, but to temporarily boost its potency.
• The Borg Queen trades threats with Janeway, then returns fire.
• B'Elanna, Gilmore and Lessing fight their way toward Engineering. (Gilmore and Lessing want to redeem themselves after betraying the ship in "Equinox.")
• The Doctor reactivates the pathogen and Icheb heads for the Borg Queen. The Doctor plans to flood the ship with a pathogen neutralizing agent to save the Borg crew after the Queen has died.
• Janeway outmaneuvers the Queen, uses the ship's prefix code to drop the shields, and damages Voyager.
• Sneaking through Jeffries tubes to the bridge, Icheb fights his fears and overhears the Queen cursing Janeway. (He realizes she's on the sphere.)
• B'Elanna, Gilmore and Lessing take control of Engineering. They kill all power to the engines and weapons.
• Facing his fears of the Queen, Icheb sneaks onto the bridge and infects her. (He carries the Doctor's mobile emitter.) The pathogen, with its increased potency, immediately disables her and renders Harry, Tom and the Borg bridge crew unconscious. Icheb uses the emitter to bring the Command Hologram on-line, and the hologram transports the dying Queen into space...as a spread of atoms. The E.C.H. contacts Janeway on the Borg sphere ...which then comes under attack by the planet Bedlam.

Borg Scourge

• Janeway, Tuvok, and Naomi, in the Flyer, are rescued by the Borg Scourge and taken aboard the Best of All Worlds. They are welcomed by a team of Delta Quadrant aliens from different species – Voth, Hirogen, Krenim, Kobali.
• After being treated and regaining consciousness, Janeway joins Tuvok and Naomi on a tour of the Best of All Worlds with Annorax, the Krenim first officer. He explains the origins of the Borg Scourge and the New Federation. They meet the captain of the ship, Omega, who claims to be the last survivor of Species 1.
• Omega tells Janeway and Tuvok that the Scourge have come to join the Bedlamites on their legendary campaign against the Borg. A Borg transports onto the Best...General Korok...and the Scourge forces surround him with weapons drawn.
• Korok repels a handful of Scourge defenders and proclaims his peaceful intentions. Janeway vouches for him, but Omega insists on scanning him with Bothan and Brenari telepaths. The scan is painful, and Janeway tells them to stop. Korok explains that some of his Free Borg crew have been assimilated by the Madborg, and he's come to retrieve them. (They had contacted the Madborg in hope of enlisting them as allies in the Borg civil war.) He says that one of them is Axum, Seven's lover from Unimatrix Zero. ("I believe your Borg crew woman is quite familiar with one of this group.")
• Go to revelation of Axum to Seven and Chakotay.
• Janeway decides to join Korok on his Borg sphere, while Tuvok and Naomi stay behind on the Best. They plan their assault on the Madborg and Voyager, and Janeway takes her leave.
• (While Janeway battles the Borg Queen,) Tuvok and the Scourge fleet battle the Madborg cube. Tuvok works with the Voth weapons officer, Ayek. The Best fires its first shot, a direct hit that staggers the cube...but the cube fires back and rocks the Best.
• The Madborg fight with a random savagery that devastates the Scourge fleet. A ship and some fighters are destroyed, and the Best is damaged. How can the logical Vulcan match the random ferocity of the Madborg?
• The true Bedlamites stir on the surface of Bedlam and attack the first Borg vessel they find – the Madborg cube.
• When the Madborg cube is destroyed, the Borg King beams onto the Best with a boarding party.
• While the mad drones fight the crew, especially the Hirogen, Voth, Vidiians, Krenim and Bothans, the Borg King battles Omega.
• During the battle, the Borg King announces that Omega was the true King of the Borg. ("Do they know that you were Borg? Do they know that you were greatest of the Borg, the true King of the Borg?") As the Madborg assimilate members of the ship's crew, the King pins Omega and prepares to kill him.
• In the nick of time, Janeway and the Free Borg transport onboard as their sphere is destroyed. They help turn the tables in the fight with the Madborg.
• Omega single-handedly kills the King of the Borg.
• Bedlam leaves its orbit and moves toward Borg space. It's only moving at Warp 1 and will take a while to get there...but its far-reaching energy blasts wipe out the waiting Borg ringing the solar system.