_____________ ____________ ____________ * / R \ */ \ */ \ * | E ______ | *\____ ____/ *| ________/ * | S |******| | ****| |*** *| F |******** * | I | *| | *| | *| U |____ * | S ~~~~~~~ / *| I | *| T \ * | T ____ \ *| S | *| I ____/ * | A |*** \ \ *| | *| L |*** * | N | * \ \ ___*| |____ *| E | * | C | * \ \/ \ *| | * \__E_/ * \___/______________/ *\____/ ***** **** ************** ***** RIF BBS (805) 588-9349 P.O. Box 81181 Bakersfield, CA 93308 subscriptions: ktaborn@bak2.lightspeed.net http://www.tamnet.interbusiness.it/htmlpages/adds/ borgpage/index.htm http://www.marshall.edu/~swann1/cborg2.html ftp://fvkma.tu-graz.ac.at/pub/star-trek/rif THE OFFICIAL ORGAN OF THE GALACTIC BORG CONSCIOUSNESS ISSUE NUMBER 54 BAHA 153 B.E. 21 Mar - 8 Apr 1996 HAPPY NEW YEAR ISSUE! ========= CONTENTS ========= FROM THAT PESKY EDITOR-IN-CHIEF: New Year & New Zealand! STAR TREK COMPARATIVE COMMANDER ANALYSIS: Question 2 STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY: 3. The Cuniculi Syndrome RESISTANCE: A TNG Serial: Chapter 13 A Risk They Have to Take Chapter 14 An Explosive Predicament The Fine Print =============================== FROM THAT PESKY EDITOR-IN-CHIEF =============================== It is the start of a new year (Baha'i New Year) and Resistance is Futile Netzine is going as strong as ever. For a one trick pony, RIF has shown its resilience. In the coming year we will be running the Star Trek: Door Repair Guy series. Door Repair Guy is not a parody on any one episode, which is our usual fare in this newsletter, but a parody on the very concept of Star Trek. As the seasons go in Door Repair Guy (14 episodes a season; the writer is already working on the 4th season), all of the Treks are given their due. In running this series, I decided to start at the beginning and work up to the present. This meant running parodies of Star Trek: The Next Generation at first and then the later incarnations. This should not be a problem since Star Trek: The Next Generation is in syndication all over the world and the humor found within Door Repair Guy is easily assimilated (if not somewhat 'Canadian'). Also, RIF will be running the usual variety of fan parodies and commentary. Some items to look forward will be: more At Home With the Borg; more Works in Progress (Borg o' Rama, Star Trek Voyager, etc.); more You Will Be Assimilated & You Will Be Assimilated Not (jokes, thoughts, and views from readers); Klingon Opera (spooky, but fun); Star Trek II Parody Scenes; The Ballad of Reginald Barclay; more Star Trek Comparative Commander Analysis; and not to mention a parody of the Borg-infested Star Trek movie to be released Thanksgiving 1996. RIF's mandate has always been to share fan produced articles which are of good quality, contain interesting concepts, and exhibit potential. Humor, as always, is in the taste of the beholder, and as editor, it is usually my taste that gets represented in this newsletter. However, I try to keep an eclectic eye open for new material, new spins, and just good old plain honest parody. And it looks like I'll be in business at least for another year or so. And now for something completely different: starting this issue, Resistance is Futile has begun to be distributed in New Zealand and Portugal!!! This sets the country distribution count to 15: Australia, Belgium, Canada, Finland, Germany, Ireland, Netherlands, New Zealand, Portugal, Singapore, Sweden, Switzerland, United Kingdom, United States, and Italy. If you are a subscriber or distributor or are reading this newsletter and you live in a country other than those listed above, please e-mail me at ktaborn@bak2.lightspeed.net and notify me of what country you are in and how you received the newsletter. I am trying to keep records on the growth of RIF. This month's issue we have question number 2 in the informative STAR TREK COMPARATIVE COMMANDER ANALYSIS. Question number 3 will be in next month's issue. Two more action packed episodes of RESISTANCE: A TNG Serial and STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY: The Cuniculi Syndrome round out the issue. If you like Petter rabbit, you will enjoy the Cuniculi Syndrome (pull out that old musty Latin dictionary). Enjoy! ---Oxnardus ======================================= STAR TREK COMPARATIVE COMMANDER ANALYSIS ======================================= No matter what Star Trek subs and message boards you peruse, we inevitably come upon the question of WHO'S THE BEST CAPTAIN? We here at the Skiold Foundation for Comparative Commander Analysis feel it necessary to compare each leader in both subjective and objective contexts - namely, how would each face a situation that another triumphed over? This month we tackle the second question out of four (sounds dangerously like a Borg appellation) with responses from our four captains, PLUS, at no extra charge, feedback from various other commanders we've had a chance to meet. QUESTION #2: ------------ While disguised on a surveillance mission of a primitive culture, your advanced, alien nature is exposed, and the inhabitants start worshipping you as a god. Their entire societal development threatens to take a backward turn, plunging them into the dark ages. To prove them wrong you must be willing to be shot with an arrow to show you can die. What do you do? CAPTAIN KIRK "Get shot? Are you out of your mind? If the damage has already been done, take advantage of it, man! Let me tell you, I'd ask for LOTS of virgin sacrifices, if you know what I mean, heh heh. If Starfleet found out, I'd have Spock muddle their computers or something, or else I'd just save the universe again so they'd forgive me." CAPTAIN PICARD "I'd sit down and explain to them in every possible manner that I am not what they think I am. If Eventually, though, I would trust in Beverly to get that d**n arrow out of my chest - assuming Will wasn't available as a better target." COMMANDER SISKO "I'd try every possible diplomatic alternative. The prime directive, however, has loopholes for the welfare of Starfleet personnel - no d**n way am I taking an arrow. There's no time like the present to welcome that primitive culture into the 24th century." CAPTAIN JANEWAY "Oh, that would be terrible, terrible...we'd have violated the prime directive, and it wouldn't even be in search of coffee...I suppose I'd take it, then, and hope that snippy holographic doctor can sew me up again." CAPTAIN KURN "Bah! Arrows are not a threat. A true Klingon does not fear pain nor death, and no honor would be gained in conquering such primitives. They can think whatever they want of me, I would leave to EARN my glory elsewhere." COMMANDER TOMALAK "We'd round up all of those who saw us, interrogate them for just how much they knew, and then bring them back as slaves to Romulus. We can't take any chances that a Federation expedition would arrive and learn any of our carefully guarded secrets through them." GUL DUKAT "What do you mean accidentally? Cardassians do not make mistakes. If anything even close to such an error occurred, we would simply wipe out the population and strip mine their planet. We wouldn't go through the effort of building an ore-processing station above it, though....it didn't turn out too well the last time." THE GRAND NAGUS: "What, get shot, and give up a whole race of worshippers? Free labor! Profit for all, but mainly for me! Hahahaha!" LOCUTUS, OF BORG "Religion and worship are irrelevant. Resistance, through their arrows, would be futile. We would assimilate them all." HAN SOLO "An arrow? Are you joking? Who cares what a buncha spear wielding furballs think - Chewie and I'd blast outta there like nobody's business!" Q What's wrong with them worshipping me as a god? ---David Nurenberg, SKIOLD@AOL.COM ========================== STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY ========================== Season One. Episode Three. "The Cuniculi Syndrome " Last time on Star Trek: Door Repair Guy: "Why do you think he did it, Jean-Luc?" "I don't know, Beverly." +++++ "Stop! Freeze! Right there! Now that's yaw! Do you see that yaw? Computer: superimpose line figure standing perpendicular to the floor, and display angle of divergence." "My God, seventeen degrees." "Commander Riker is unbalanced." +++++ "Is it the Battle Section, Ensign?" *No, sir. It's a Borg ship* +++++ "I am dispatching an away team to the Borg ship. My next decisions will depend heavily on their assessment." "Ugh!" "Woof!" "Pyuu!" +++++ "We could kill them. We could set them adrift, which would have the same result. We could try to find a way to return them to what they were . . . or we could join them." "Be assimilated?" "No, Captain. Confederation." +++++ "Commander Riker, I arrest you in name of the Starfleet Command!" "WORMHOLE!" And now this month's episode. ===== "Deal!" "Counsellor -- darling -- I have barely begun to shuffle the deck." "Come on, cut the cards before I get out that . . . big old sleigh runner you have hangin on the wall and cut them for ya!" Worf deals. The two new six-year-old characters from "The Pilot, Part One" dodge around the table, stealing handfuls of salty snacks. Doctor Crusher gathers up her cards, arranges them in a fan, and examines them uneasily. "I'm experiencing the strangest feeling of deja vu. Do you think we can have fallen into another time loop?" "That's what you always say! It's Worfy! He dealt the same cards. Ante up!" The Doctor folds. Lieutenant Barclay, holding his hand directly in front of his face, squints and opens his mouth to call for two cards, then reconsiders, chews his lip and comes close to calling for three, stops himself just in time, agonizes a while, and finally, with a defeated look on his face, folds. "And I fold. You win again, Counsellor." The Door Repair Guy, who has been circling the table, comes up behind Troi and whispers a wicked joke in her ear. She bursts out laughing and begins to rake in her winnings, laughing and laughing and laughing. ***** "Crawlspace: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Door Repair Guy. His mission: to install and maintain proximity- activated entranceways, to stake out new rooms and new service conduits -- to boldly go where no one with a pass key has gone before." [Music] Star Trek: Door Repair Guy Whoosh! (the Battle Section) Starring Door Repair Guy as Himself Whoosh! (the Saucer Section mounted on a Borg Cube) Also Starring Patrick Stewart as Captain Jean-Luc Picard Whoosh! (Battle Section again) Jonathan Frakes as Cmdr. William Riker Michael Dorn as Lt. Worf LeVar Burton as Lt. Cmdr. Geordi LaForge Gates McFadden as Doctor Beverly Crusher Roseanne Arnold as Counsellor Deanna Troi Brent Spiner as Lt. Cmdr. Data and Dwight Schultz as Lieutenant Barclay Saucer Section looms into view, giving a good look at the array of tractor beams joining it to the Borg Cube, which looms into view just as the French horns are playing. The two warp off in a burst. [Commercial: The friendly folk at Red Planet Terraforming would like to wish you and yours a very happy holiday. Come visit our showroom and see all the latest in recreational sandblasting and sub-zero lawn care. Or visit our new location in the Pembroke Mall.] +++++ Blackness, relieved by only the tiny, shimmering lights of distant galaxies. There is a sudden smack of thunder, a brilliant flash of light, and an enormous blue and orange cloud appears, corkscrewing open into a tremendous aperture, from which the Battle Section of the Enterprise tumbles. As suddenly as it appeared the aperture collapses on itself and vanishes into a point of light and then nothing. The Battle Section rolls slowly past our point of view. On the battle bridge it's pandemonium. The lights are out, except for glowing computer panels and flashing red alert signs. A klaxon honks frantically. Crewmembers cling to chair arms, railings and consoles, painfully pulling themselves from the floor the time-honored Starfleet way. Geordi staggers into the middle of the shot with his hand on his head. "Computer! Restore lighting! Cancel red alert!" The lights come on. Bruised crewmembers pull each other to their feet, clutching onto computer consoles and trying to interpret the information scrolling across the monitors. "Helm! Where are we?" An engineer slips into the chair and reports: "Computer cannot get a fix. There are no recognizable stars or navigational beacons." "Do we have power?" "Engines are off line but not down. Restoring power now." "How about other systems?" "Other nonessential systems are also off line but returning to service now." A voice comes from the corner. "Get this android off of me!" Riker is lying spread-eagle on his back, with Data slumped across his middle. Geordi: "Data, are you all right?" Data, speaking toward the floor: "Perfectly, Geordi. I am merely executing emergency wormhole arrest protocol Data One. I am slumping over Cmdr. Riker to ensure he does not escape in the confusion of the moment." Geordi looks around the battle bridge, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah. That must be what happened. When we unexpected went into the wormhole the computer turned off all unnecessary systems, and we just sort of tumbled through like a limp body!" "Sir, computer reports no major damage. All systems normal." "That's a relief. Data, suspend emergency wormhole arrest protocol!" Data stands up. "Commander Riker, I arrest you in the name of Starfleet Command and the United Federation of Planets. Until such time as a court martial can be convened you will remain in confinement under armed guard. You have the right to counsel. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. Security, take him to the brig." Four burly security guards hustle Riker off the bridge. On his way out the door Riker twists around and shouts, "I did it all for l-o-o-o-o-o-ve!" "Cmdr. Riker is deeply in love, is he not, Geordi?" "Yeah, Data. That Deanna is some woman." +++++ Troi's office. Deanna and Lt. Barclay are seated at the two ends of the couch. Barclay is explaining his insecurity about his recent promotion to Acting Chief of Engineering, his anxiety about the demands on his time and the loss of his private life, his doubts about his ability to fill Geordi's shoes, his gnawing suspicions that the Captain might be having second thoughts about the promotion, and, as always, his ongoing inability to attract a member of the opposite sex. Troi is sitting there with an incredulous look on her face. ". . . so then *he* says, `I *could* recalibrate this sensor array the way you want, but I'll just have to set it back when LaForge returns.' And so I say . . ." "Wa-a-a-a-it a minute." "Y-yes, Counsellor?" "Have you ever thought of, ya know, like, just clockin him? Why not just lay into him for a change? I mean, are you the boss or what!? Well, OK, *I'm* the boss, but I've got a hundred other nerve cases to look after. I can't be goin out and fightin everybody else's turf war. I'll tell you what. You go down there and tell this guy to fly straight or it's lights out. And if he doesn't like it he can go cryin to the Captain." Barclay tries to get his mind around this new advice. "So, if I don't get the respect I want, I simply . . . resort to physical intimidation. Lower the boom. Knuckle sandwich." "Now you're talkin!!" "Thank you, Counsellor." "Don't mention it. Next!!" +++++ [Commercial: Connie, Jeff and Org at Barsoom Gamma-Welding would like to extend to you and your family the warmest of holiday greetings.] +++++ Data and LaForge are having a conference on the battle bridge. "How many people do we have on board, Data?" "Computer census registers 443 persons. As would be expected we have a large majority of the Enterprise's Engineering Division. On the other hand our share of the Medical Department is extremely meager. We are well supplied with security guards, but have no teachers, bartenders or door repair technicians. One hundred and twenty-eight individuals on board can pilot a shuttlecraft, but no one, with the possible exception of Cmdr. Riker, can cook an egg." "Do we have any children on board?" "No one under the legal drinking age." "And no Ten Forward. D**n! Have we figured out where we are?" "We would appear to be in intergalactic space. Sensors indicate we are approximately one half million light years outside the Milky Way Galaxy. Gravimetric readings do suggest, however, that we are within the gravitational sphere of our galaxy and that we have already begun to spiral back toward it." "How long will that take?" "Three point two billion years." "Good thing we have warp drive." "Notwithstanding, it would be advisable to locate the wormhole and determine whether it is stable enough to return us to our own quadrant. Under our own power, at an average velocity of Warp 9, the journey back to the Milky Way would last approximately 500 years." "So we'd better find that wormhole. Helm, plot a course back the way we came after leaving the wormhole." "I'll do my best, sir, but it's very difficult to get a sense of direction out here without any stars." "I hadn't thought of that. Well, double back along our ion trail." "Engines were off when we exited the wormhole, sir. We didn't leave an ion trail." "Uh o-o-oh." "Are there no subgalactic formations to be seen at all, helmsman?" "Checking. Long range sensors identify a smudge which may be a group of stars several hundred light years from here." "Make for that smudge, then." "Aye, aye, sir." "Geordi!" "What is it, Data?" "I wonder if they have remembered to feed my cat?" +++++ The Door Repair Guy comes along the corridor, muttering, with a bowl of cat food in one hand. "Why do I always get the crummy jobs? Feed the cat. I, who have rehinged the mighty gates of Herghngeng!" He stops outside of Data's quarters and keys in his door repair technician override. The door shwooshes open and he enters. "MMmRwwrRRRwweowWWW!!!!" He hits the opposite wall of the corridor. "Computer! Emergency Lockout Code Door Repair One!" He catches a glimpse of Spot pouncing on the spilled cat food. "The next time I'm beaming it in." +++++ [Commercial: It's the Hottest Chili on Mars! Rusty and Nanette want to wish you and your family the happiest of holidays and invite you to come down to the Uranium Chili Company, 3500 Bradbury Boulevard. Or try our new location in the Pembroke Mall!] +++++ Captain Picard is walking briskly along one of the curved corridors of the Saucer Section. Ahead he can hear the patter of small feet, a cacophony of tiny bells, and lots of shrieking and giggling. In a moment he comes across a group of four people: two children and a pair of Borg. "Whom have we here?" he demands. "That's Dweenie!" "It's short for Edwina! And she's Clarabelle! We're six!" "Would you please introduce me to your two friends, Edwina?" The two Borg straighten up and cast glances at one another, uncertain about this human ritual. "This is Tulip," says Dweenie, taking one of them by the hand. "And this is Chestnut," says Clarabelle, looking up at the Borg with big brown eyes. "We named them." The two Borg have difficulty concealing their pleasure at the sound of their new names. "Are you showing your Borg friends around?" "Yes! We're teaching them all about everything! What am I playing?" Dweenie holds her bells up above her head and shakes them rhythmically for what seems a long while. Picard tries to pick some melody from the racket. "I can't say." "Jingle Bells!" "What am I playing?" Clarabelle holds up an empty fist and shakes it in the air for a while. "I'm completely at a loss." "Silent Night!" Both girls laugh uproariously, then sprint away, followed by the happy, embarrassed Borg. +++++ Shot of the Borgoprise falling out of warp. "Captain's Log, stardate 49581.2. We have followed the missing Battle Section's ion trail to these coordinates, far beyond the previous limit of Federation-explored space, to find that the trail comes to an abrupt end here. Sensor sweeps reveal no wreckage and no energy signature of the sort that would indicate an explosion or failure of the antimatter containment field. The astrophysics lab is hard at work interpreting sensor input that may serve to substantiate a idea that has been growing in my mind." "Astrophysics reporting, Captain. This entire region shows extensive hydrogen eddying." "Have we seen this sort of thing before?" "Yes, we have. It's a wormhole, sir. And they went right down its throat." "That's a mixed metaphor, Lieutenant." "Sorry, sir." "Mr Worf. Prepare a series of Class One Sensor Probes. Fire them at intervals toward the last recorded location of the Battle Section. I want them programmed to do extensive cartographic research on the far side of that wormhole and to search out and reenter the wormhole once they have verified its location. We don't want to risk entering the wormhole until we are sure that the other end is stable." "Very good, Captain. Sir! A Priority One transmission is coming in from Starfleet Command." "Stand by on that Sensor Probe order. I'll take the transmission in my ready room." Swoosh goes the ready room door. Picard slides into his chair and activates his terminal. The Executive Producer appears on screen. He says: "Picard, are you crazy? Each time you launch one of those probes we have to show the wormhole! You'll blow the special effects budget for the next half season!" "Hm. I appreciate your difficulty. Perhaps you could just show the first probe going in, and then *suggest* the others with sound effects and shots of our astonished faces?" "No, no! We already dropped a bundle to get Ms Arnold! Listen, Picard. There's only going to be one more wormhole effect this episode, and it'll be when you take the Enterprise through!" "Really! This is quite outrageous!" "I've got Diana Muldaur's agent on the other line." "Wait! Stop! Not that! You win this round, Executive Producer. Just tell me one thing. Is the other end of the wormhole stable?" "Yes." "Perfectly stable?" "Reasonably stable. Look, I gotta go. Ross Perot wants to be written in in the role of the Grand Nagus. I'm doing lunch with his private eye. Ciao!" The Starfleet Emblem comes up on screen, with the caption `End of Transmission'. Picard sits back, draws a deep breath, then walks out onto the Bridge. "Mr Worf, belay that sensor probe order. Helm, take us into the wormhole, one quarter impulse power." "Aye, aye, sir." Shot of the Borgoprise moving forward. Suddenly the wormhole blossoms and the ship disappears into it. The wormhole closes again. Fadeout. +++++ [Commercial: qeylIS qoS Quch yItIvjaj lujatlh Krell loDnI'pu' je lojmIttaHghachwI'pu'. Pembroke MallDaq Quvchaj chu' yISuch. (Krell and Brothers, Doorhangers, want you to have a happy religion ritual birthday. Visit their new location in the Pembroke Mall.)] [Bob: "We-e-l-l-l! Here we are on location at the Pembroke Mall. We're having a great time. Hey, I have here with me six-year-old Jason. Say `Hi,' Jason." "Hi." "Jason's here Christmas shopping with his Mom. Say `Hi,' Mom." From off camera: "Hi." "Jason's brought along some really cool action figures from the new Star Trek ah Door Repair Guy series. Hold some of those up, Jason. There's Ross Perot as Data . . . and Buddy Whassisname. Authentic rubber boots and sou'wester there. Roseanne Arnold as Deanna Troi. The Executive Producer. Sunglasses and everything. Wow. Kind of a Cardassian neck on that guy. Edwina and Clarabelle. How soon before they're acting ensigns, Jason?" "A couple weeks." "What else have you got there? A couple of Borg characters." "Tulip and Chestnut." "Hey! That's right! And there's Door Repair Guy himself. I hear he's up for an Emmy. Who's this blonde goof?" "That's you!" "Oh."] +++++ The wormhole blossoms and disgorges the Borgoprise. The hybrid ship cruises by at one quarter impulse power. The wormhole closes up and disappears. The Board of Directors at Industrial Light and Magic all sit back and light up cigars. Picard leans toward the viewscreen, squinting. "Any sign of the Battle Section, Ensign?" "No indication, sir." "Can you tell where we are?" "Stellar Cartography is reporting now. Captain! We are 500 million light years beyond the edge of the galaxy." "Extraordinary! What's that dim light in the corner of the viewscreen? Magnify." "Stars. A single constellation out here in intergalactic space!" "It looks like two bunnies!" Everyone turns to look at the speaker. Edwina is standing by the turbolift with a badminton racket in one hand and a wicker basket full of red chili peppers in the other. "Who let that child on the bridge?" Edwina puts on her best affronted face and says, "I let myself." She departs via the turbolift. "It does look like two bunnies, sir." Picard, sensing he has lost the sympathy of the bridge, calls a conference. +++++ The brig. Riker is sitting on his bed, improvising on the trombone. Beyond the security containment field a broad- shouldered security guard stands with his chest stuck out and his chin up, ready for anything. The door opens and a female security guard enters. She debriefs the male guard and then relieves him of his post. The door closes behind him. She assumes a position to the side of the containment field, next to the controls. She stands with her feet shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind her back, phaser on her hip, chin up, ready for anything. Riker finishes his solo and lays the trombone aside. He gets up, nonchalantly strolls over to the containment field, and glances out. He leans up against the cell wall, just about where she is standing on the other side, and begins: "Did I ever tell you how much I admire strong women?" +++++ [Commercial: Old Spice] +++++ The conference room. Present around the table are: Picard, Doctor Crusher, Lt. Worf, Counsellor Troi (played by Roseanne Arnold), Barclay, an Extra, playing someone from Stellar Cartography, and a Borg. The Extra is explaining: "We have mapped the star cluster and run spectroscopic analyses on all the stellar masses, and conducted a sensor inventory of all planetary bodies, moons and asteroids above 1000 meters in diameter. There are twenty-four suns in the cluster, ranging from Alpha Cuniculi, a yellow giant, down to Omega Cuniculi, a nearly extinct red dwarf." Picard, under his breath: "I knew Red Dwarf would get in here somehow." "We have discovered four Class M planets: Epsilon Cuniculi IV, Theta Cuniculi III, Pi Cuniculi III, and Tau Cuniculi VII. For convenience we have named these Flopsa, Mopsa, Cauda Linea, and Petrus. There is also an exceptionally dense, dark nebula which we have named Dominus McGregor." "Aren't these all Greek and Latin versions of names from Peter Rabbit?" The officers turn their moral disapproval toward the head of the table. "That's right, Captain." Worf speaks up, with a glint in his eye: "Captain, will we have the opportunity to peruse these worlds?" "Not in this episode, Mr Worf. Our first priority is to re- establish contact with the Battle Section." "Oh, I hope we get to explore those planets. They must have many useful things." Everyone looks askance at the Borg. "I mean, that we could . . . ah . . . photograph." The Borg slides down in its chair and begins to punch a button on its arm, trying to activate a faulty personal cloaking device. Troi: "Don't sweat it, DJ. You'll get to use your cutter beam just as soon as Worfy here takes me out and then spends the whole night at the piano bar again. Klingon C&W! Sa-a-a-y, that's a great shiner you've got there, Broccoli!" Barclay smiles self-consciously, revealing a missing tooth. Picard senses that he's losing control of the conference. "People, we all know the writers only put in this conference to separate the two Riker scenes. Let's at least try to comport ourselves as Starfleet Officers until . . ." Troi gives a dirty laugh. Worf: "Captain, we didn't see much of Door Repair Guy in this episode." "That's all right. The next one is almost entirely about him." "MajQa'." They sit around, drumming their fingers on the table. A little beeper goes off and half of them are out of their chairs before Picard can say, "Dismissed." The last one to leave the room is Doctor Crusher, who slaps the two arms of her chair as she stands up and says: "No lines again!" +++++ A Security team bursts into the brig. The containment field is off. On the floor lies a commbadge. A security guard scoops it up and taps it. "Computer, who am I?" "You are Cmdr. William T. Riker." On the bed in the containment cell lies the motionless shape of a body covered with a blanket. An arm and a braid of brunette hair dangle over the side. "Oh my God," says a guard, stepping into the cell. As he hesitantly reaches for the edge of the blanket he hears a low sound emanating from beneath it: "ZZZZZzzzZZzzzzzzzz." He taps his commbadge. "Security to LaForge." *LaForge here* "It's Riker, sir. He slept . . . slipped past the guard." *Where do you think he could be now?* The camera moves in as the security guard's gaze goes from one side of the room, up over his head, and around to the other side. "Anywhere, sir." [Dramatic music.] ---Douglas A. McLeod (ai919@freenet.carleton.ca) Next month on Door Repair Guy: "Last Exit to Borglyn", the Borgoprise catches up with the errant Battle Section and the Door Repair Guy and Riker face each other off! ============================== RESISTANCE: Chapters 13 and 14 ============================== Part 7 of 12 A Star Trek: Next Generation Serial Chapter Thirteen: A Risk They Have to Take The Borg ship was not damaged by the Enterprise's photon torpedoes. A tractor beam was sent out from the Borg ship. It missed the Enterprise. "They have missed, Sir. I think they were tricked by the cloaking device." Worf said. "Now we must find a way to use our advantage. Mr. Worf, Do you agree that both phasers and photon torpedoes are useless?" "Yes, Sir. I think the Borg have adapted to them." "Then we must think of something else." "Maybe not, Sir. The Borg use a highly efficient shielding, and maybe this is because they transfer all available shield energy to the place the weapon is aimed at. They work at a very high speed, so they could have managed to adjust their shield when they noticed our torpedo." Seron suggested. "Then we can get them. Ensign Seron, get us as close to the ship as you can. We will fire when we are as close to them as possible. Maybe we can be too fast for them." "I would not recommend that kind of action, Captain." Data objected. "A photon torpedo detonation in that proximity would damage the Enterprise, as well. If they manage to destroy the cloaking device, we have no chance against them anymore. And there are no other ships in range to stop them." "We have no other choice, Mr. Data. It is a risk we have to take. The Borg will continue to analyze all data they can get, and some time they will be able to detect us even while we're cloaked. If they have time to adapt to the cloaking device, we have no chance, as well. Ensign Seron, course as ordered, full impulse." "Full impulse. Aye, Sir." The Enterprise speeded towards the huge cube-shaped ship. Seron reduced the speed. He did not want to collide with the Borg ship. If a collision was necessary to stop them, it was okay, but then, the collision should be made at maximum warp to have more effect on the Borg. "We are now as close as we can get, Captain." "Mr. Worf, Fire!" Chapter Fourteen: An Explosive Predicament Worf fired a photon torpedo at the Borg ship. "Our shields have been damaged by the explosion! They're down to 5%! Primary hull has been damaged. Engineering reports two injuries." Worf reported. "We got them, Captain. According to sensors, their ship has been damaged by 15%." "Very well. Mr. Worf, fire!" "That action would be highly illogical, Captain." Seron objected. "If they have not yet adapted to our new advantage, we could destroy another 15% of their ship - and they would still be able to repair it. But with another blast of that force, the Enterprise will be completely destroyed." "Cancel firing, Mr. Worf. How long will it take them to repair their ship, Mr. Data?" "Unknown. If they still worked at the same speed as in our first encounter, their weapons and warp drive should be back on-line in 5 hours and 27 minutes. But I think they have improved their systems." "That should give us enough time to save the Romulans. Hail them." The Romulan Commander appeared on screen. "Thank you for saving us, Captain. Our weapons are still off-line, but our warp drive is ready. I suggest you beam our engineers back, and we leave for a star base. We must have every ship ready if the Borg enter our territory." Picard followed the Commander's suggestion, then he ordered to go back to the planet to check out on the crew. "The cloaking device must remain on-line. They must not know where we have gone when they return to normal mode. Mr. Worf, Mr. LaForge, you will see to that. Ensign Seron, warp one." "Warp one? Why so slow?" Riker asked. "Borg ships are very advanced, number one. They might pick up subspace fields, and the subspace field at warp one is much smaller than the ones at faster speeds. We will increase speed when we're out of here. Mr. Seron, engage." The Enterprise's warp engines started. "Captain, we have a problem with the cloaking device. It doesn't work while we are at warp speed!" LaForge notified the bridge. "Can you do something about it?" "Negative, Sir. We don't understand the Romulan cloaking technology, and to prevent us from changing that, the Romulan engineers have placed a bomb on the cloaking device that will destroy the antimatter containment field if we open the device to have a close look at it." "M***e. Ensign, increase speed to warp eight. If we can't remain undetected, we should at least get an advantage." The Enterprise increased its speed, heading for the crew's planet. to be continued..... ---Bernard Rosenkrantz: bero@rage.fido.de =============== UPCOMING IN RIF =============== STAR TREK COMPARATIVE COMANDER ANALYSIS: Question 3 RESISTANCE: A TNG Serial: Chapter 15 Good and Bad News Chapter 16 A Trap? STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY: 4. Last Exit to Borglyn ============== THE FINE PRINT ============== TRYING TO LOCATE A COPY OF RIF???? WORLD WIDE WEB/FTP: http://www.tamnet.interbusiness.it/ htmlpages/adds/borgpage/index.htm; http://www.marshall.edu/ ~swann1/cborg2.html; ftp://fvkma.tu-graz.ac.at/pub/star-trek/rif INTERNET EMAIL:Request free subscription: ktaborn@bak2. lightspeed.net. LOCAL BBS: There are various BBS distribution centers (when you call, tell them you heard about their BBS from RIF!): RESISTANCE IS FUTILE, Bakersfield, CA (805) 588-9349; micro bbs, Passaic, NJ (201-471-6887); AMITREK BBS: Kissimmee, FL (407) 348-3365; WARPCORE: Long Island, NY (516) 243-1698; U.S.S. 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