_____________ ____________ ____________ * / 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/ shopslow.htm http://w ww.marshall.edu/~swann1/cborg2.html ftp://fvk ma.tu-graz.ac.at/pub/star-trek/rif THE OFFICIAL ORGAN OF THE GALACTIC BORG CONSCIOUSNESS ISSUE NUMBER 56 JAMAL 153 B.E. 28 Apr - 16 May 1996 ========= CONTENTS ========= WORKS IN PROGRESS: BORG O'RAMA PART II STAR TREK COMPARATIVE COMANDER ANALYSIS: Question 4 RESISTANCE: A TNG Serial: Chapter 17 A Plot is Hatched Chapter 18 The Borg Return STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY: 5. Stuff The Fine Print =================== WORKS IN PROGRESS =================== BORG O'RAMA PART II ------------------- Kirk voiceover: Captain's Log supplemental. While testing out our warp drive we have traveled 70,000 light years from the Federation ... I have met an interesting wom- I mean encountered another Federation starship which appears to be from the future. However trouble has approached. A big giant ice-cube has appeared and Spock is freaking out hysterically mainly because the math and dimensions of this cubed ship are perfect. Kirk Out.. Kirk: Spock, what...can...you tell me? Spock: I dunno. Kirk: Come on Spock, you...are...the brains here. Spock: I honestly don't know what to make of this. McCoy: At least say it is fascinating. Like you always do. Spock: It is not. McCoy: Why not? Spock: I dunno. Kirk: Bones, could...it...be...that Spock is being influenced by this strange cube out there? McCoy: I dunno... (Meanwhile) Janeway: I want answers. Tuvok what do you make of this? Tuvok: I dunno. Janeway: Come on, stop fooling around. What do you make of this? Tuvok: A big ice cube called the Borg. Janeway: Ensign Kim, hail them... (The screen comes alive. We see two people in Borg outfits.) Janeway: It can't be.. Paris: Scully and Mulder from the X-Files??? Janeway: Yes, but that was just fiction much like us. Paris: Scully's kind of cute... Mulder: ENOUGH! WE THE X-FILES OF BORG WILL ASSIMILATE YOU AND THE GARBAGE SCOWL SHIP ENTERPRISE. (Screen Goes dead.) (At that moment) Scotty: I canna believe this ... these Borg things are just like the devilish klingons insulting this ship. Chekov: It could ve vorse. Scotty: Yeah... suppose... WORK STILL IN PROGRESS... ---Mitch Holzman ======================================= STAR TREK COMPARATIVE COMANDER 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 neccesary 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 fourth question out of four with responses from our four captains, PLUS, at no extra charge, feedback from various other commanders we've had a chance to meet. QUESTION#4 ---------- While pursing a group of criminals, your ship is accidentally tossed thousands of light years away, into an uncharted part of the galaxy. With no clear way home, how do you prevent mutiny and despair? CAPTAIN KIRK "A whole new quadrant of babes to woo? Hmmm....tempting as that may be, I'd have Spock and Scotty figure out some way to get us home, and maybe even save the universe a few times in the process." CAPTAIN PICARD "I'd get that brat Wesley to call up his friend, the Traveller, to get us home." COMMANDER SISKO: "I'd look for a wormhole. Hey, if it worked once..." CAPTAIN JANEWAY: "I'd make a highly successful science fiction show about my adventures that would launch an entire TV network." COMMANDER KURN: "New worlds to conquer for the empire? New challenges, and opportunities for glory undreamt of! I would kill any man that revolted." COMMANDER TOMALAK: "Impossible. There exists no way to cover such a distance in so little time. More Federation lies designed to break down my resolve! You shall never best us! Glory to the Praetor!" GUL DUKAT "You even suggest that a Cardassian would become lost? Your loyalty IS in question, then! Do you know your pledge to the state? Recite it! Right now! Expect a visit from the Obsidian Order VERY soon, my friend." THE GRAND NAGUS: "A whole quadrant that doesn't know our tricks? Trillions of new suckers to bilk for everything they have? Ha! Why would I ever want to leave? LOCUTUS, OF BORG: "Location is irrelevant. We would carry on our directive to assimilate all life. You WILL become one with the Borg." HAN SOLO "Chewie? Is that hyperdrive working yet?" Q Big deal. I'd snap my fingers and send myself back home. ---David Nurenberg, SKIOLD@AOL.COM ============================== RESISTANCE: Chapters 17 and 18 ============================== Part 9 of 12 A Star Trek: Next Generation Serial Chapter Seventeen: A Plot is Hatched Picard, Data and LaForge materialized in front of the crew's cave's entry. Hugh welcomed them on behalf of the Borg. "We need your help to fight the collective." Picard explained. "We managed to trick them with a cloaking device, but I think they'll adapt to the new situation quite fast." "I agree. Their adaption system is very efficient, and the network is protected against wrong commands, quite well. After the disaster in sector 001, they even put the regenerative command on a higher level." "Can you tell me how the system works? Maybe we can find an entry point." Data suggested. "I don't know a lot about the system, Mr. Data. When we needed information about these things in the time of the collective, we just accessed it using our link. But now, this source of information is closed." "Do you know something about their weapons, or their shielding? Is there a possibility to take that down?" "No. Even if the systems are down, they can repair them in mere seconds." While Picard and Data continued discussing several theories about the Borg with Hugh, the away team returned. "We think it was no longer necessary to build a subspace communicator with the Borg linking parts, since the Enterprise is here. If you need it, however, I think we can build it up in few minutes." "Wait, did you say Borg linking parts?" "Yes, Sir. Why?" "Mr. Data, with the Borg linking parts, shouldn't it be possible to access the Borg network?" "It is quite likely. I will try." Data collected the linking parts, and analyzed the parts. "I don't think we can connect them to the ship's computer to place the commands, Captain. They need a completely different input source." "Yes. They need brainwave input." Hugh added. "Do you think you can modify them to one-way? Send commands, but not receive others? Then, we could add the parts to a person, and have the person send the Borg new commands." "Negative. They've added a special security in their systems. Every sent command is acknowledged with a kind of code that has to be re-sent. There is no way to decode the system." Hugh answered. "Do you think a Vulcan mind is strong enough to send orders to the Borg, and not accept theirs?" Picard asked. "It is possible, but would be too dangerous for the Vulcan. I don't think the Vulcan could take it. Vulcans can control themselves - but the Borg linking is quite strong." Hugh tried to answer. "An android can." Data interrupted them. "I have not been programmed to take orders from the Borg - and my positronic brain output resembles your brainwaves. I think it might work." "Hugh?" "It is possible. But I think the collective could adapt to that quite fast." "Then we have to be faster. Mr. Data, are you aware of the risks?" "Yes, Sir. I request permission to be assimilated." Geordi and some Borg engineers started to work on Data. Chapter Eighteen: The Borg Return Picard's communicator chirped. Commander Riker's voice came through. "Riker to Captain Picard. The Borg have returned." "Can they detect the Enterprise while it's cloaked?" "I don't know, Sir. They are in orbit around the planet, so it seems they know where we are, but maybe they are just looking for the individual Borg." "Can you beam me up while you are cloaked?" "It should be possible. But we would, of course, have to drop our shields,and maybe that's what the Borg are waiting for." Picard thought about it a moment, then he answered. "Make it so, Number One. The Borg collective doesn't expect you to care about individual crew members. They think it would be futile to beam one of us aboard. They are not expecting it." "What about Data and Geordi?" "They'll stay here. Data must be Borgified." "Data must WHAT?" Riker exclaimed. "I'll explain to you later, Number One. Beam me up." Picard dissolved, and rematerialized in the transporter room. He left the room for turbolift one, to go directly to the bridge. Geordi and the Borg continued working on Data. To be contiued.... ---Bernhard Rosenkraenzer: bero@rage.fido.de or Bernhard Rosenkraenzer@2:2452/307.46. ========================== STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY ========================== Season One. Episode Five. "Stuff" Last time on Star Trek: Door Repair Guy: Visual of approaching Borg Cube with Saucer Section mounted on the leading corner. "Oh my God! The Borg have assimilated the Saucer Section! Evasive manoeuvres!" Dr Crusher: "They're going to hide in the star's corona and attempt to destroy us with an induced solar flare." +++++ "Our plan is to warp in on a stealth approach pattern and execute a near warp transport of one of our personnel on to the Battle Section." "I'll do it!" +++++ Picard: "Transporter room! Is he away?!" +++++ On a chair in the midst of Door Repair Guy's stuff, frozen by surprise in the act of lifting a forkful of beans from a tin can to his mouth, sits the renegade fugitive, Cmdr. William Riker. +++++ And now this week's exciting episode: Riker throws down the beans and pulls a phaser. DRG: "Have you been messin with my stuff?" Riker breaks into his buccaneer's smile. "Are these your quarters? I was wondering who would have bothered to keep an entire run of "Field and Stream" on board a starship." "They're out of order! You were readin them!" "What can I say? I'm from Alaska." "Did you see the one on flyfishing for Denebian trout devils?" "Excellent. But enough small talk. I assume Geordi sent you." "Uh uh." "Data?" "Incorrectimundo." "Red Green?" "Three strikes! Yerouttathere! Picard." Riker is dumbfounded. "Picard came through the wormhole? The Saucer Section doesn't have warp drive. Starfleet must have given him another ship." "Yeah. Sort of." "I'm a marked man. The whole fleet's out after me. I suppose you'll turn me over to Data and La Forge and we'll all head for home now. Court martial." He slumps in his seat. Door Repair Guy takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head. "'T'aint quite so simple as all that." Riker looks up, alert. "What do you mean?" Door Repair Guy weighs his options, considering how much he should tell. "La Forge and Data have refused to make contact with Captain Picard's ship. They may need some persuading." "Do you mean they've gone renegade?" "Yeah. Sort of." Riker strokes his beard. "So, if I bring them in, Starfleet might drop the charges against me. Are you in a position to offer that?" "But of course." Riker sticks out his hand. "Partners!" "Partners!" +++++ "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 Saucer Section mounted on a Borg Cube) Starring Door Repair Guy as Himself Whoosh! (the Battle Section) Also Starring The Goodyear Tune-Up Guy as Captain Jean-Luc Picard Whoosh! (Saucer Section/Borg Cube 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 Marina Sirtis as Counsellor Deanna Troi Brent Spiner as Lt. Cmdr. Data The Battle Section looms into view, begins to elongate in the warp effect, suddenly snaps back into shape, does a barrel roll and sneaks out the lower right-hand corner of the screen. +++++ [Commercial: "Goodyear makes great tires. Sure! But did you know Goodyear also . . . [checks three by five card] . . . calibrates verterium cortenide warp field coils? And they do a darned fine job of it too, if I do say so myself. He he he." +++++ "Acting Captain's Log, stardate 49589.3. Lt. Cmdr. La Forge reporting. It has been several hours since we fended off the Borg attack. We are still in close orbit around the yellow giant. Cmdr. Riker remains at large, somewhere on board." He stops, wipes the back of his hand across his cheek, and says, "Data, is it me, or is it getting warm in here?" "It is you, Geordi. Correction. External sensors indicate the beginning of a parabolic thermal increment. At the present rate of increase we should completely vaporize in fourteen minutes and three seconds. Counting. Fourteen minutes and one second. Fourteen minutes. Thirteen min . . ." "OK, Data, we get the point. Pick it up again when it becomes more dramatically interesting." "As you wish, Geordi. To address the root of the problem, though, our metaphasic shielding is breaking down." "Yeah, that's the way it looks. Helm, do we have any idea where the Borg ship is now?" "No, sir. After we failed to destroy it with the solar flares we were able to track it only briefly before solar interference rendered sensor readings useless." "Did we get a good sense of the neighbourhood before spotting the Borg ship?" "We have a rough idea of stellar configuration, but no planetary count and nothing has a name yet, sir." "Well, I name this star The Frying Pan." "Geordi, is that a reference to the aphorism 'Out of the frying pan, into the fire?'" "You got it, Data." "In twelve minutes, forty nine seconds, the appellation The Fire will become more appropriate." "All right! All right! What do you suggest?" "It is reasonable to assume that in no matter what direction we leave The Frying Pan the Borg will be able to track and follow us and no doubt outrun us as well. I believe that we should therefore formulate our strategy around the assumption of contact with the Borg, rather than escape from them. Using knowledge gained from previous encounters with the Borg, we must invent a means of confounding them based on some quirk of their own systems. To do that we must board their ship." "Yeah! And I'll bet we can use our familiarity with the Saucer Section to make them wish they never saw it! Helm, plot a course out of here. As soon as we're clear of the corona, head for the nearest star system, warp nine point five. Find the planet with the strongest magnetosphere and park us over its north pole. If we're lucky that'll confuse their sensors long enough for us to work out our plan of attack. How much time left on the countdown, Data?" "Four seconds, three seconds . . ." "Helm! Warp drive! Engage now!" Shot of Battle Section shooting out of the sun's corona and disappearing into the distance. "Did I tell you I have been refining my humour programme, Geordi?" "Data!!!" La Forge sinks into the command chair, holding in his heart with both hands. +++++ [Commercial: "We-e-e-l-l-l. It seems the word is spreading about Goodyear's great, ah, verterium cortenide warp coil calibrations! Yes. We have some actual footage of ordinary people saying the kindest things about them. Roll that footage, Gord." ("When I say Goodyear, what do you think?" "Oh, you mean, like, 'Have a good year?'" "When I say the word Goodyear, what springs to mind?" "There's my bus!" "The name Goodyear. What does that evoke in your imagination?" "Ah-h-h. Tune-ups?") Timid laugh: "He he he."] +++++ The main bridge. Picard hurries in from the turbolift, straightening his tie. "What . . . what is it?" Worf: "The Battle Section has just warped out of the yellow giant on a course for the Epsilon Cuniculi system." "What do they have there? The green giant? He he he!" He looks around nervously for some sign of merriment among the bridge crew. "Very droll, sir. Do you wish us to pursue them?" Picard edges over in Worf's direction. In a undertone: "Do you . . . do you think that's a good plan?" Worf gives the slightest nod. "By heck, let's chase 'em! We'll show 'em what good traction can do! They won't know what hit 'em! All right, Battle Section, prepare to meet your match! Floor it, helm-guy!" "Very good, sir." The Borgoprise shoots off in a burst. +++++ The Battle Section speeds through space. Somewhere inside, a hatch opens and first Door Repair Guy and then Riker (dressed in orange overalls) peer out into a corridor. "The coast is clear." They climb out. Riker winces and begins to massage his thoracal lumbar fascia. DRG, noticing, exclaims, "What a climb!" Riker looks at him suspiciously. "It didn't seem to bother you much. It was all I could do to keep up with you." DRG slaps his leg. "Strong thighs! Feel that thigh." "Thanks all the same. So what's this plan you spoke about?" "Simple. Everybody's on the lookout for you, right?" "Right." "But they're not on the lookout for me." "That's because they don't know you're here." "Well, suppose they didn't know you were here." "It's a bit late for that." "Not if you were dead." Riker looks at him really suspiciously. "What are you getting at?" "Look, listen, and learn. That door there is the turbolift. That door over there is a disused guest suite." "How do you know it's disused?" "I'm in Maintenance, ain't I? Let's go in." DRG keys in his door repair lockout override. The door opens to a darkened, empty suite. "Told ya." They enter. DRG heads over to the replicator. "Do you like chili?" Riker's curiosity is piqued. "Who doesn't? I've programmed fourteen chili recipes myself." "Well, ask for your favourite." "Computer, Chili Recipe Hot Tamale Number One." "Ten gallons." "Ten gallons." "With a spoon." "With a spoon." A huge pot of chili resolves in the replicator window, with a spoon. They lug the chili to the turbolift door. "Phase two." DRG keys in a low priority maintenance safety override and opens the turbolift door. Opposite them is the far side of the turboshaft. "Right. We're just a few decks below the battle bridge, and I don't see any cars up there, so we're safe in assuming we can stick our heads out." The empty shaft yawns below. "Hello-o-o-o down there." Riker makes up his mind about something. "You're really not from Starfleet Security, are you?" "Nope. Not really. Now, gimme that spoon." Riker hands it over. DRG leans out into the shaft with the spoon held high above his head and explains: "On my planet we put a lot of value on the skill of precision spoon-throwing. Oh! Here it comes!" He whips the spoon down the shaft. Shot of the turbolift car speeding up the shaft. Suddenly there's a loud screech and a stream of sparks flying from the juncture between the shaft wall and the car. "Right in the groove!" The car grinds to a halt. "Phase three. Got your uniform?" Riker pulls his Starfleet uniform out of a canvas shoulder bag. "Stick it in the chili." In it goes. "Now gimme a hand with this." Together they pour the chili down the turboshaft. It hits the roof of the turbolift car with a loud, wet smack. "Now what?" "Now we run away." DRG hits the turbolift door control, returning it to its original locked condition. Riker stows the chili pot in the replicator and dematerializes it. They climb back into the Jefferies Tube and shut the hatch. Several decks above them a security guard pokes her head out into the turboshaft. She points a tricorder down the shaft at the red mess surrounding the Starfleet uniform. Several other heads appear and have a look. They disappear again. The Acting Chief of Security taps his commbadge. "Security to La Forge." *La Forge here, Chief. What is it?* "It's Riker, sir. He did a header down the turboshaft. It's a complete mess down there." *He was a good man, Chief, but he gave it all up for Love. Let that be a lesson to all of us. La Forge out* The security personnel disperse, all except one female guard with the brunette braids who lingers a moment by the turbolift door to shed a quiet tear. +++++ "Acting Captain's Log, stardate 49591.2. Lt. Cmdr. La Forge reporting. We have just learned the sad news of the death of our former comrade, Cmdr. William Riker. Whether it was accident or suicide I guess we'll never know. It seems kinda strange that the man who brought us so far won't be returning with us." Geordi tries to think of something else to add, but in the end he merely says, "Conclusion of entry." Data is gazing at the planet on the screen. The north polar region is enveloped in night. A bright ring of aurorae borealis forms a circle around the top of the planet. Geordi comes up beside him. Data: "It is beautiful, is it not, Geordi?" "Yeah, you got that right." He begins to hum to himself, then sings under his breath, Will the circle be unbroken? By and by, Lord, by and by. Will the circle be unbroken? In the sky, Lord, in the sky. Data tilts his head slightly, frowning. "Geordi, I sense you are drawing a connection between Cmdr. Riker's death and the electromagnetic phenomenon below. However, I fail to understand what relationship the two bear to one another." "Mystery, Data, pure mystery." Exterior shot of Battle Section. The music swells into an orchestral version of "Will the Circle Be Unbroken?" A small projectile fires from the forward torpedo launcher. We see it curve toward the planet. It enters the atmosphere just as dawn breaks. +++++ [Commercial: "Goodyear's having a verterium cortenide warp coil calibration sale, with good reason. They've got all these nacelles, they're radial, they're all-season."] +++++ Picard stumbles out of his ready room. "What now?" Worf: "Captain, we have trailed the Battle Section to the Epsilon Cuniculi system, but now the ship has disappeared." "Omigod! What should we do?" "I suggest we take up a position below the south pole of the fourth planet Flopsa. Its unusually strong magnetic field should conceal us from their sensors. From there we can watch and wait." "Great thinking. Helm-guy, oh, now its helm-girl. Helm- girl, do that thing." "'Make it so', Captain." "Make it so they can't say no! He he, pretty good slogan, eh? Oughta go into advertising." View of the Borgoprise taking up its station below the south pole of the planet. +++++ [Commercial: "I've just written a song about Goodyear nacelles. If you buy Goodyear, you'll prove you've got a lot of grey cells. Everybody!" [Bob: Bob and the Pizza Guy are seated at the two ends of the Bob couch. The pizza box rests lid up on the Pizza Guy's lap. Bob is eating. "MMmm. *chomp* Grlfpf. Ohhh. That's good. What do you call that?" "It is Klingon with Pineapple." "MMMmm. Gimme another piece. *chomp* Mmm. I can't get enough of that. Erff. *gulp* Hoo, brother." "There is also Vegetarian with no gakh." "Hhmm. I love it. *gulp* Boy. Hey, you'll let me know when we're coming up to air?" From off camera: "Yeah." "Thanks! Grulpf. Mnn."] +++++ Shot of the Battle Section holding its position over the north pole of the planet Flopsa. The camera moves away and follows the curve of the planet down past the equator and eventually to the south pole, where the Borgoprise can be seen holding its position. A corridor in the Saucer Section. Six-year-old Clarabelle appears around the curve of the corridor, carrying a large colouring book. She stops at a door and jumps up several times until she manages to hit the door chime. The door opens. "Can Dweenie come out to play?" In a moment six-year-old Edwina appears. She has a large box of crayons. The two girls dash off down the corridor together. They run and run and run all the way around the Saucer Section. Then they run into a turbolift and run out again on another deck. They run around that deck. See them go! Go, Dweenie! Go, Clarabelle! They run circles around the Enterprise. They dash around a corner into a side-corridor and come to a screeching halt. "Eeeeeek!!" Before them in the side-corridor is an alien aurora effect, swirling and changing hue. A menacing voice intones: "We are the Antipodeans. In ancient times we studied the aurorae australis, gazed upon their wisdom, and learned their truth. At last we transcended our mundane forms and became one with the shimmering lights." A brilliant flash. In the place of the aurora stands a six- year-old girl who, notwithstanding, speaks with the voice of Lorne Greene sound-engineered with plenty of reverb: "You who have invaded our sky disturb the aurorae, and bring malachromatic disarray to our beautiful world." Edwina: "Oh, you're so scary. Why don't you just show some patience and wait a minute till we warp away to some place else." The Antipodean girl seems a little less sure of herself. She declares: "You can little understand the chromatic majesty you desecrate. Without the harmony of celestial colour existence is without meaning, we are as nothing." Edwina and Clarabelle nod politely, making eye contact and employing best-friend telepathy. Clarabelle: "So why don't you borrow our crayons until we go?" She steps up and puts them in the Antipodean's hands. The Antipodean opens the box. Slowly her jaw drops. Her eyes widen. Colours begin to swirl around her, filling the side- corridor. Edwina and Clarabelle back away step by step as hundreds of thousands of dollars begin to flow and cascade into the coffers of Industrial Light and Magic. The friends edge around the two corners at the junction of the corridor, but not so far that they lose sight of the girl with the crayons who stands rooted in the centre of what is now a chromatic hurricane, her hair blowing around her head and her wide eyes fixed on the crayons in the box. "This is the single most important discovery in the history of the world!!!!" The corridor explodes with light and colour, almost obliterating the images of the two girls leaning into the effect with their hands around their eyes and their clothes flapping. As the light level gradually returns to normal security personnel come dashing up from two directions, weapons drawn. Worf pushes his way forward, followed by Troi. Everyone mills around, looking down the now-empty side-corridor and at the two six-year- olds who are beginning to grow increasingly impressed by the attention paid them. Clarabelle moves over behind Edwina and whispers: "I think she liked your crayons." +++++ The Captain's ready room. Picard is leaning with his elbow on his desk and his cheekbone in the ball of his hand, playing Leisuresuit Larry on the computer terminal. The door chimes. He sits up, jerks his tie straight, yells, "Come on in!" and at the last moment stretches over and bats at the power switch on the terminal, sits up, re-straightens his tie, and rises smiling as Doctor Crusher enters. "Doctor, entrez-vous, he he he." "Captain, I'm here on a formal matter." Picard smiles unctuously, and smooths the hair on the back of his head. "As you know, Captain, we have a little tradition on the Enterprise." Picard nods emphatically. "Absolutely! No doubt about it!" Crusher: "Now, we've just been through some extraordinary circumstances." Picard puts on a serious face and nods and nods. Crusher: "But we've come through it thanks to some inspired thinking and quick action." Picard goes through a series of aw-shucks gestures. "And, with all that said, I'd like to present the two heroes of the hour: Edwina and Clarabelle. Girls." The door swooshes open and the two six-year-olds come in and line up in front of the Doctor. Picard smiles and shakes his head, desperately searching the room for some clue of what the Doctor expects him to do now. The Doctor catches his confusion and begins to prompt him. "You'll remember one time after Wesley saved the ship you made him an (she mouths the words) Acting . . . Ensign." "Acting Ensign! Kids! How would you like to be Acting Ensigns?" Dweenie: "First we need new crayons!" Clarabelle: "And not the box with the Klingon Blue!" Picard laughs nervously. "Kids." The camera moves slowly away from the Borgoprise. +++++ We are on the forested northern continent of Epsilon Cuniculi IV. Great fern-trees spread above us, filtering the sunlight. The air is alive with the rustle of the wind in the foliage. Strange animal cries can be heard on the breeze. All around us the foliage sways, heavy from a recent rain shower. A twig snaps. We crouch behind a clump of leafy tendrils, our eyes darting here and there. A humanoid clumps into view, pushing wet branches aside left and right. It sees what it is searching for just ahead of us on the moss-covered ground. Silently we creep around to get a better look. A photon torpedo casing. Swiftly the humanoid -- a Borealan as the inhabitants of the northern continent are called -- falls to work, probing and exploring the torpedo casing with strong, ingenious hands and instruments carved from antler and bone. With a cry of triumph the searcher leaps back as the lid of the casing rises with a pneumatic hiss. Inside the torpedo is an empty Starfleet uniform and a red meaty mess. The Borealan contemplates these alien wonders a while. Then, bending down, it runs a finger through the red mass. The Borealan stands, rubbing the substance between its fingertips. Hesitantly, it takes a taste. It moves its tongue around in its mouth. Gradually its eyes widen. Wonder and delight suffuse its being. In a rapture the Borealan begins to dance and shout. "This is the best chili I've ever tasted!!!" --Douglas A. McLeod (ai919.freenet.carleton.ca) =============== UPCOMING IN RIF =============== YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED NOT: More Borg Taglines AT HOME WITH THE BORG 2 RESISTANCE: A TNG Serial: Chapter 19 The Borg Attack Chapter 20 Futile Attempts STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY: 6. North and South ============== THE FINE PRINT ============== TRYING TO LOCATE A COPY OF RIF???? 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