_____________ ____________ ____________ * / 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 57 AZAMAT 153 B.E. 17 May - 4 Jun 1996 ========= CONTENTS ========= 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 ================================= YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED -- NOT!!! ================================= MORE BORG TAGLINES ------------------ Ohm of Borg--Resistance is volts divided by amps. Volta of Borg--Resistance times amps is volts. Ampere of Borg--You Will Be Electrified. Thesaurus of Borg--You will be assimilated, absorbed, acquired, combined, included... Turgenev of Borg--Nihilism is Futile Dostoevsky of Borg--Nihilism is Futile Lokai of Borg--I will be assimilated on my RIGHT side. Bele of Borg. NO! *I* will be assimilated on my right side! CHICAGO TRIBUNE of Borg: DEWEY ASSIMILATES TRUMAN Deela of Borg: You will bezz bzzzzz zzzzzzzz........ Morg of Borg: Borg and Borg! What is Borg! ABC--The American Borg Collective CBS--Collectivized Borg Sensation NBC--National Borg Consciousness On CBS This Morning, here's a look at your assimilation. Today Show--This is the Borg, on NBC Good Morning America--We'll be right back after this assimilation Phil--Borgs who assimilate too much Sally--Borgs who de-assimilate their best friends Geraldo--Borgs who build ships which are really dodecahedrons. PBS--Planetary Brotherhood of Sophonts AFL-CIO: Anaerobic Federation of Lifeforms-Congress of Interplanetary Organisms. ---STEPHEN MENDENHALL (MFNG88B@prodigy.com) ======================= AT HOME WITH THE BORG 2 ======================= "Commander. I just got a relayed sub-space transmission. It is from the Borg again." - The Borg? Open it on my private channel, code 1 ensign. -Aye sir. Beginning transmission... A thousand voices: And Now, another exciting episode of AT HOME WITH THE BORG! The Borg: Welcome again to AT HOME WITH THE BORG. Each month or so, we entertain you with the latest in stolen technology and we assimilate a species live. AT HOME WITH THE BORG is a presentation of the COLLECTIVE MIND, the only link you need. (pause ). The Borg: (continuing) We had some trouble with a Ferengi in our last show and had to rewrite all our command path and sub-routines after trying to assimilate his low level brain. Everything is now under control and we are functioning within established parameters. The Ferengi himself has been put in stasis for further analysis. So for this new episode, we have decided to have a guest with better synapses and more higher brain activities. So we are proud to present you a member of the Vulcan species... M. Spock. (A huge undecorated door slides open and M. Spock makes his entrance. His face is as unreadable as ever and he wears his Krishna style tunic . On his sides, two Borg are guarding him.) The Borg: M. Spock, you are in our custody. Resistance is futile, you will be assimilated. Spock (raising his brow ): It would be illogical to resist since I have no means of escape. Your statement indicates to me evident flaws in your NeuroNetwork, which results in lacks of logic. The Borg: Our NeuroNetwork is fully functional. Our logic is irreproachable. You are trying to deceive us. Deception is futile. You will be assimilated. Spock: I'm a Vulcan, so I cannot lie. Your files on my species must have revealed you that fact. I studied logic all my life, which has been long and prosperous, and I assure you than you may have a major problem in your NeuroNetwork processing. I'll be able to help you only if you let me access your command path... The Borg: Access denied. You are attempting to deceive us so you could escape your fate. You will be assimilated. Cooperate and you will be part of our collective, resist and you will be destroyed... Spock: I am cooperating, but I cannot let myself be assimilated by a defective mind. Vulcan brains are highly trained. Your assimilation may ruin it and by the same occasion make your entire collective NeuroNetwork collapses. The Borg: Our previous attempt with the Ferengi has made us more cautious. We have to process the information. We will make a pause for publicity and come back with our conclusion. Announcer: And now a word from our sponsor. The Borg (to the audience): If you plan to be assimilated soon, be sure it is done by the Borg and no other brand. Only the Borg is a foolproof, fulltime assimilator and even if you may be tempted by the concurrence (especially those unlinked ex-Borg), always be sure to choose the only original (if we may speak about originality with the Borg). Our assimilation process is based on thousand of years of experience and we have hundred of thousand of billions satisfied customers all over the universe. (pause) The Borg: (continuing) And don't forget our technology stealing plan. You will have access to the widest range of technology available, for you, at no extra cost. And for a limited time, we offer you a small vacation on Risa, where you will be trained to assimilate other species and destroy an entire planet. You will be glad to be part of our collective as you see them die in horrible pain. (pause) The Borg: (continuing) So be sure to be assimilated by the only real Borg collective and don't forget: "Resistance is futile". Announcer: Now back to our regular show The Borg: We have ran diagnostics on all levels. You are right, there are malfunctions left by the Ferengi. Ferengis will be destroyed as they proved not worthy of assimilation. What is the course of action you propose to repair our NeuroNetwork? Spock: I propose to link the command path to the diagnostic processors, bridge it with Neuro-transmitters to the array inductors and then boost the memory processors by emitting a tachyon pulse from the central memory accumulator to the NeuroNetwork buffers. After that it is simple to deactivate all unbridged commands from the low level particle emitters and send the rerouted result as clean signal, derived from the high level buffers, all its way through the phase shifters, themselves shielded by a neutrino pulse. I learned it from our chief engineer M. Scott. As he said, I cannot change the laws of physics but I surely have mastered technobabble. The Borg (confused ): Hem... This sounds like a mechanic telling us why our new car is in bad shape. As you are incapable of lying, we must concur with you. You may proceed to the repairs, and we will assimilate you after... (Spock begins his work, checked by the 2 guards who seem very disoriented. After an hour, all the modifications are done.) Spock: Now, I must make a Vulcan mind melting to force your Neuroreceivers to accept the re-routed command path. The Borg: Proceed. After we will begin your assimi... Spock: Yes I know, I know. You could get on a Vulcan nerves you know... Now, I will proceed with one of the two guards. (Spock moves in front of the guard and put his hand on the right spots across the white, unliving face. After a moment, the link is established. He has now access to all the paths and begins the re-education. This seems pretty hard as he is faced with a collective mind and has never experienced such a thing. Concentrating on one mind only, he implants his own commands and let them spread throughout the entire collective.) Spock: I'm finished. You have now all logic commands paths implanted and functioning. I will test the implants. Analyze that affirmation: "I am a Vulcan, I cannot lie: but right now, I am lying to you". The Borg (analyzing ): You are a Vulcan, you cannot lie. So your affirmation is true. But you say you are lying, so your affirmation is false. But you cannot lie and say you do. If you cannot lie, your affirmation is a lie so you can lie, but our files prove you cannot, so this is all a lie, but that is impossible. Vulcan cannot lie and your affirmation says you do but you cannot and... Spock: I'll let you debate that. I think you have a long, long thinking to do. (Spock leaves the Cube ship, the Borg too busy analyzing the affirmation to stop him. For the first time of his life, he feels happy to be only Half-Vulcan. Humans can lie.) ---Yves_Boudreault@eureka.qc.ca (Yves Boudreault) ============================== RESISTANCE: Chapters 19 and 20 ============================== Part 10 of 12 A Star Trek: Next Generation Serial Chapter Nineteen: The Borg Attack "Captain's log, supplemental. We are still in orbit around the class M planet in the Epsilon Theta system. The collective Borg have returned, but not yet taken any action. I hope they cannot detect us while we are cloaked. On the planet, Chief Engineer Geordi LaForge and some individual Borg are working to link Commander Data to some Borg linking parts. We think Data can plant wrong orders into the Borg collective when he's ready." "The Borg ship is turning around!" Worf interrupted the Captain's log entry. "Merde. Maybe they have noticed us. Mr. Worf, prepare for saucer separation. Two cloaked targets should be more difficult to handle." "This won't work, Captain. If we separate the saucer, it will de-cloak. The cloaking device is in engineering." The Enterprise was hit by an energy beam. "They can, indeed, detect us. They have adapted to the new situation. Mr. Worf, are we damaged?" "Shields holding, no damage yet." Worf answered. Picard tapped his communicator to contact LaForge. "Mr. LaForge, how long will you need to finish work on Data? The Borg have detected us." "It will take a while, Captain. We have added the Borg implants to Data, but we must work on the interface. It is designed to work with biological life form's brain waves. Data's brain output is similar, but it's not exactly the same." Picard doubted the Enterprise could survive the situation. A battle against a Borg ship would be hopeless. "Any ideas how we can stop the Borg long enough?" No answers. The Borg locked a tractor beam on the Enterprise. "Mr. Worf, they have adapted to phasers and photon torpedoes, and even a deflector dish weapon. Can you think of anything else?" "We could try to fill a shuttle with antimatter, and send it on a collision course with the Borg ship. But I don't expect it to work. It's too similar to a photon torpedo." "We'll have to try everything. Mr. Worf, prepare a shuttlecraft for your idea." Worf left the bridge to start working on the shuttle. The Borg ship increased power to the tractor beam. The Enterprise came closer to the Borg ship every minute. "Mr. Worf, how long until you finish the shuttle?" "We'll have it in 5 minutes." The Klingon's voice came through Picard's communicator. "That should be enough, Captain. If the Borg maintain the current tractor beam force, we'll have 17.3 more minutes." Seron reassured him. "Mr. LaForge, when will you finish Mr. Data?" "It's quite a difficult job, Captain. I guess in half an hour, we should be able for a test run, but I can't promise anything." "You have 15 minutes. Picard out." Nervously, Picard stood up from his command chair, stretched his uniform jacket, and went to the science station. He wanted to have a closer look at the sensor readings of the Borg ship. "We have 10 more minutes." Seron added. In the same moment, Worf's voice came through Picard's communicator. "We're ready with the shuttle, Captain." "Launch the shuttle. Maximum speed." "Aye, Sir. Maximum speed." Worf entered the program into the shuttle's computer, set a ten second delay, and left the shuttle bay. He had to be on the bridge to monitor the new makeshift weapon. Chapter Twenty: Futile Attempts The shuttle started its course to the Borg ship. It increased to Warp 5 as soon as it had cleared the Enterprise's shuttle bay. "Shuttle engines fully operational, antimatter containment field seems to work." Worf reported. "Impact in 10 seconds. 9 ... 8 ... 7 ... 6 ..." The Enterprise was hit by an energy weapon from the Borg ship. "Shields are down to 12 %! We can't take another shot from them!" An Ensign in Engineering exclaimed. "Primary sensor array damaged." Worf continued the countdown "3... 2 ... 1" The shuttle hit the Borg ship and exploded, setting free the antimatter. "Qapla'! The Borg have released their tractor beam." "Any further damage to the Borg ship?" Picard asked. "Unknown", Seron, who manned Data's station at the moment, answered. "The sensors are damaged, and we can't get explicit readings. I'll try to get a visual." Seron typed a few commands in his console, and the main viewer displayed a part of the Borg ship. It looked as if the shuttle had done only little damage. The only thing they could make out for sure was that the Borg ship had started repairing itself already. "Mr. LaForge, how long till Mr. Data is ready?" Picard asked, tapping his communicator. "We're ready for a first test run, Captain." the chief engineer replied. "Tell Mr. Data to stop the repairs on the Borg ship. They must not get that tractor beam on-line again!" LaForge informed Data. Data's neck started to move, and some lights at the Borg implants started glowing. The entire bridge crew looked at the viewscreen. Nothing happened. The Borg ship still repaired itself. "Mr. LaForge, it doesn't seem to work." "I don't understand this. It should work. We'll check the connection again." "Make it so." With increasing nervosity, the bridge crew looked at the Borg ship. Soon, it would be ready to attack the Enterprise, again, and the ship wouldn't have a chance if Data's connection didn't work. "Captain, given the current rate of repairs on the Borg ship, and the records of the first encounter with the Borg, they should be ready to fire in few ..." Before Ensign Seron could finish his sentence, the Borg fired again. TO BE CONTINUED.... ========================== STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY ========================== Season One, Episode 6 "North and South" View of the Battle Section in stationary orbit above the Flopsan north pole. Door Repair Guy's quarters. We see Commander Riker, in orange overalls, asleep in a Lazy Boy with a pair of headphones hanging around his neck. On the turntable beside him the Doobie Brothers' "What Were Once Vices Are Now Habits" rotates at 33 1/3 RPM. Across the room on an Ikea Loki daybed salvaged from the recently abandoned Earth Colony Nepean III sits Door Repair Guy, typing quietly into a similarly antiquated Tandy laptop computer. We read: "Personal Log, stardate 49594.0. Hoowee, what a day. Riker had to crawl around the Geoffrey's Tubes all afternoon, planning his big insurrection. (Ho ho, can you say that in a personal log???) And he kept such a close eye on me I couldn't hardly use my levitate function at all. Spent hours accessing restricted computer levels for him. My flexor digitorum superficialis is killing me. Lucky for me he's a trombone player, so I was able to get him interested in some good 1970s records with horns. He must of sat through Average White Band half a dozen times. This spy stuff is a drag. I wish I was back fixing proximity- activated entrances and exits. Looks like he's ready to make his move, though, so tomorrow's the day, for better or worse." ***** View of the Borg Cube/Saucer Section Confederation in stationary orbit below the Flopsan south pole. Captain Picard touches a control on his desk. "Captain's Log, stardate 49594.0. There still has been no sign of the Battle Section, although we know her to be in this stellar system. Security remains on full alert. Mr Worf has every confidence that this policy of concealment will bear fruit. He has reminded me several times of the Klingon legend of the Fourteen Hunters, who caught and killed a mythical giant targ, but only after they had all eaten their own bootspikes from hunger. I am preparing certain measures that should preclude our having to eat our own bootspikes. Picard out." "Captain's Log, supplemental. Metaphorically speaking. Picard out." [A turbolift door. On the door appear the words:] Star Trek: Door Repair Guy [The door opens to reveal Lt. Cmdr. Data. Data walks down a corridor and enters another turbolift. The doors close, showing the words:] Starring Door Repair Guy As Himself [Data comes out of the turbolift. The doors close to display the words:] Also starring Patrick Stewart as Captain Jean-Luc Picard Jonathan Frakes as Cmdr. William Riker Marina Sirtis as Counsellor Deanna Troi [Data walks down another corridor, rounds a corner, and enters a room. The doors close behind him, revealing the words:] LeVar Burton as Lt. Cmdr. Geordi La Forge Gates McFadden as Doctor Beverly Crusher Michael Dorn as Lt. Worf Dwight Schultz as Lt. Barclay [Data exits the room. The words on the door say:] and Maxwell Smart as Lt. Cmdr. Data +++++ [Commercial: Don Cherry for Pink Insulation] +++++ Picard's ready room. The door chimes. "Come." Acting Chief of Engineering Lt. Barclay enters. "Y-you wanted to see me, sir?" "Yes, Mr Barclay, please, come in. I have just been perusing the "Star Trek: The Next Generation Technical Manual". Tell me. I see here that the Saucer Section possesses a photon torpedo launcher situated within the vehicle interface; that is, facing aft at a point which is usually pressed up against the docking portion of the Battle Section. I must confess that until now I had never heard of it." "Ah! Well, Captain, it has never been used. Of course, under normal circumstances it is completely locked down. If anyone were to fire it while the Battle Section and the Saucer were docked, the results would be . . ." "Catastrophic, to say the least." "Yes, sir, Captain. But now that the Battle Section is gone, given ten or fifteen minutes to power up and blow out the dust it would be absolutely ready for use." He grins happily at the thought of how professionally he has delivered this good news, when suddenly he is gripped by dread and begins to wave his finger in the air and gape like a fish, trying and finally managing to get out the word, "Except!" "Except?" "Except that it is situated just where the Borg/Enterprise tractor beam links are most, most densely arranged! If we fire a torpedo it will immediately get caught in one of those beams and explode!" He stands there, wobbling, aghast. Picard leans forward on the desk with his fingers locked together, frowning and thinking. "How else can we launch a torpedo?" "Well, ah. Oh! We could beam it off the ship! Or we could even push it out of the main shuttlebay by hand. Either way the torpedo would have to be fitted with its own thruster module. Otherwise, without the thrust provided by the torpedo launcher, it won't have sufficient velocity to . . . to go." Picard sits back and rubs his chin. Barclay stands there on the other side of the desk, shaking visibly. Picard throws him a glance. He jumps. "Mr Barclay, please assemble a sensor probe with thruster module as you described. I would like it to be launched into a highly elliptical orbit of the planet so that apogee occurs high above the equator and perigee at the north pole, altitude 500 kilometers. I want it to look as much as possible as if it is passing the planet rather than orbiting it. The initial thruster burst must take place in the portion of space hidden by the planet from an object situated as far above the north pole as we are below the south pole. The probe is to run completely silently until it passes the north pole, when it is to conduct a five nanosecond sensor pulse. It will then shut down all systems again until it is in a position to transmit its findings in a five nanosecond data burst to our position here. I have a very strong suspicion that what we receive then will be an image of the Battle Section." "Yes, sir! Aye aye!" He falls out the room and runs to the turbolift. Picard sits back, picks up the Technical Manual again, and begins to thumb through it, looking for other useful plot devices. He stops suddenly at page 164. He gives a shout of discovery. "Captain's yacht!!" A vertical service accessway within the Battle Section. Our view is from between two ladder rungs. Riker climbs into view, speaking loudly. "Come on, get the lead out. I'm five decks ahead of you. Here's the hatch." We hear the pneumatic whoosh of the opening hatch. Riker climbs up out of the top of the picture. A moment later Door Repair Guy shoots upward with his boots in one hand. He grabs a rung, deactivates his toe levitation control with the pinky finger of his boot-holding hand, and goes through a quick series of contortions as he gets his boots back on while hanging on to the ladder. Then he climbs up, his boot laces dangling. We hear the hatch close. Main bridge. Picard hurries out of his ready room and makes for the turbolift. Worf: "Captain, someone is activating the main shuttlebay door!" "It's all right, Mr Worf. It's just Mr Barclay deploying a spy satellite." "Captain! The Fourteen Hunters would never resort to such a ruse! It is the hunger of lying in wait that sharpens the senses and gives the advantage!" "Mr Worf, in the story of the Fourteen Hunters, what was the giant targ doing while the Fourteen Hunters lay in wait." "Dining upon the golden eggs of Borghol. It is a well-known story." "And what would you say the golden eggs of Borghol represent, metaphorically speaking?" "Decadence. Infatuation with the material world. Spiritual flabbiness." "Are these qualities you would ascribe to Commander Riker, or Lt. Commanders Data or La Forge?" Worf assumes an annoyed body posture. "Please render Mr Barclay any assistance he should require." Picard disappears into the turbolift. Worf twitches, moves his mouth around and looks at every part of the ceiling, flaring his nostrils. Exterior view of Borgoprise. Space-suited figures can be seen rolling a sensor probe out of the main shuttlebay. They launch it by hand. It rotates slowly away. Then its manuevring thrusters fire and it lifts away from the ship. A long blue flame spouts from its main thruster and it dwindles into intergalactic space. A moment later the motor cuts out, leaving total blackness. All over the viewing area people lean forward and say, "I really ought to dust this screen more often." +++++ [Commercial: Don Cherry for ProLine] +++++ Close-up view of the exterior of the battle bridge on top of the neck of the Battle Section. "Acting Captain's Log, stardate 49594.0, Lt. Cmdr. Geordi La Forge reporting. Data and I continue our strategy sessions. By process of elimination we have pretty well decided where the Borg ship has gotta be. We are now preparing our next move." Three probes fire from the forward torpedo launcher. A small viewscreen on the transporter room control console. Transporter Chief: "The probes have taken up their positions, sir." Data turns. "Got it, Chief." Counsellor Troi's office. Troi and Worf are seated on the couch. "Worf, something must be bothering you, or you wouldn't have come here." Worf resists this interpretation for a while, then blurts, "It is the Captain. I have a great amount of difficulty relating to him lately. He seems to change from week to week. Just last week I could sell him anything. Now he won't take any of my advice." "He has been under a lot of strain recently. So have we all. I've been reading over some of my recent reports, and I have a hard time believing I wrote some of them." "Still, I am troubled." She lays a hand on his. "This Cuniculi emergency will end sooner or later. You'll find an opportunity to use your special skills before too long." He thinks this over. "You are right, of course." He thinks of something else. "Are we still on for Friday night?" She laughs, "Of course!" "Shall I have a little champagne ready?" She smiles angelically. "Perhaps a little real pain." He rubs his hands together robustly, eyes sparkling. "Excellent." An auxiliary transporter room. Data and La Forge enter. "Okay, Data, so here's the plan." "Wait just one minute, Geordi." "Data, what is it?" Data looks around. "This is top secret information." "Yeah. I guess." "So shouldn't we use the Cone of Silence?" "Data!" "The First Officer of the Enterprise goes rogue, flies us through a wormhole, then dies under mysterious circumstances, and you don't want to use the Cone of Silence? Come on, Geordi, the walls have ears." "All right, all right." They go over to a computer panel. "Computer. Recognize Lt. Cmdr. Geordi La Forge, Chief Engineer." *Acknowledged* "Computer. Recognize Lt. Cmdr. Data, android and Starfleet Officer and cat-lover extraordinaire." *Acknowledged* "Activate the Cone of Silence." The transparent double-orbed tub descends over their two heads. "All right, Geordi, what were you going to tell me?" "What?" "I said, `You were going to tell me the plan. What is it?'" "I can't hear you." "What was that you said? I can't hear you." "I said: "I . . . can't . . . hear . . . you!" "It's hot in here, too. What about that plan?" "This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever let you talk me into!" "You say you want to take an away team to the Borg ship?" "This Cone of Silence is the stupidest invention ever to be programmed into the computer." "We'll use the orbiting probes as transporter relays to carry our signals around the curve of the planet? Why, Geordi, that's brilliant!" "Computer, discontinue Cone of Silence!" *Cone of Silence discontinued* "All right, Geordi, let's get a move on. There isn't a moment to waste. "Huh?" "If we're separated, don't use your commbadge. They probably have the frequency." He takes off his boot. "All secret communication will be done using the boot phone." "Huh?" Data flips open the heel speaker. It makes the communicator sound. "This is Lt. Cmdr. Data calling the annoying lieutenant from `Suspicions'." *Annoying lieutenant here* "You have the big chair until Geordi and I get back. Over and out." He herds Geordi up onto the transporter platform. "Here's a phaser. But remember, don't shoot until you see the whites of their eyes. Transporter Chief, energize." Transporter effect. +++++ [Commercial: Don Cherry for Ford Trucks] +++++ Riker and Door Repair Guy climb out of a Jefferies Tube hatch and start stealthily down a corridor. "Someone's coming!" Riker ducks into a nearby room, and Door Repair Guy hits his Borg transport implant and disappears. The room is a temporary crew compartment, hastily pressed into service to compensate for the loss of all the living space in the Saucer Section. On a chair in front of a mirror sits Ursula, the brunette security guard. She is humming and combing out her hair. Riker freezes, then silently backs up to the wall and begins to search with his hands behind his back for some kind of crevasse to slide into. Ursula continues to comb, then lays down the comb and gathers her hair together in an elastic. She sees Riker in the mirror. Riker, thinking fast, begins to wave his arms around slowly in the air and silently mouth the words, "Help me! Help me!" Ursula stares, horrified, into the mirror. Her trembling fingers come up and press into her cheeks. "Am I . . . am I going mad?" She faints. Riker slips out the door. A hatch opens in the ceiling. A leg appears, then a figure in Starfleet uniform eases down into a small space containing a number of comfortable padded chairs and a control console. It is Picard. He gazes expectantly around the interior of the Captain's Yacht, admiring the wood-grain finish and opening and closing small lockers and drawers. "Extraordinary." He settles into the pilot's chair and activates the control console. It lights up with a pleasant mechanical sound. He checks overhead, and then feels under the seat. "What the . . . ." He pulls out an empty carton containing a few dried-up egg noodles and bamboo shoots. Another search produces an empty Jolt Cola can. "By all the . . . ." A third search brings up a subscription insert from "Field and Stream" magazine. "Blast!" A suite in the Battle Section. The annoying lieutenant from `Suspicions' storms into the room, demanding, "Who sent that unauthorized mayday call? This is a clear and wanton violation of . . . ." He comes to a dead halt in the sights of Riker's phaser. Riker lounges insolently in an armchair, grinning broadly. The annoying lieutenant turns on his heel and walks nose- first into an uncooperative door. "I have a friend in door repair division," Riker informs him. The annoying lieutenant glances this way and that, breathing deeply and angrily. He hits his commbadge. "Annoying lieutenant to Security! Send ten security guards to my location!" Riker stands. "The more the merrier." He saunters over to the replicator. "Hungry? I'm having Klingon. Computer, a big bowl of gakh." The food appears in the replicator. "O-o-o-h," says Riker in mock disappointment. "It's cold. Computer, heat up this gakh. Say, three hundred degrees celsius." He calmly places a clothes pin on his nose as the gakh begins to pop and fume. The annoying lieutenant staggers and tries to support himself with the back of a chair. "Gakh!" Thud. There's a loud pounding on the door. Riker opens it with a jury-rigged TV remote control. Security guards pour in. All: "Gakh!!!" Multiple thuds. Riker calmly moves about the room, collecting phasers and commbadges. Door Repair Guy enters, with a clothes pin on his nose. Riker: "Now the battle bridge." "Hey! What about all this great food?" Riker gives an underwhelmed look and hurries from the room, stuffing phasers and commbadges into the pockets of his overalls. The main bridge. Doctor Crusher sits in the command chair. The officer at tactical looks up and announces, "Sensor probe data burst just received." "Do we have visual?" "It's blurry. Computer-enhancing." "On screen." Gasps. "The probe must have just missed them!" We see an enormous image of one of the windows in the Battle Section. Framed in the window is Door Repair Guy, his eyes fixed on his reflection in the glass, flossing. The turbolift door opens. Picard enters. He slows as he sees the image on the viewscreen. "Hm." The turbolift opens again, this time depositing Worf on the bridge. He takes the station at tactical and begins to work conspicuously. Shortly, however, he begins to cast covert glances at the back of Picard's head. An alarm from the tactical display pulls his attention back to his work. "Captain. We are picking up a satellite of some kind just above the edge of the planet. It is of Federation design. Conducting search of the near-atmosphere horizon. There are two more of them. We are being monitored, Captain." "Is there any other purpose for them to be there that you can determine?" "I am picking up a strange energy pattern. It is a transporter signal. They are transporter relays!" "It seems we are being boarded." "Shall I raise the shields, Captain?" "No, Mr Worf. We are trying to demonstrate that we are not the Borg. Anyone who beams aboard from the Battle Section will soon see that. However, do you think those relays could be used by us to transport someone over to the Battle Section?" A look of glory enters Worf's eye. "Captain, I volunteer for that mission." "Very good, Mr Worf." +++++ [Commercial: Don Cherry for Don Cherry's Grapevine] +++++ The office of Not Fragile Surgical Implants. Madeline is flipping through the latest "Entertainment Weekly". There are no customers. The transporter effect appears, and Data and Geordi materialize with phasers drawn. Madeline chews her gum and waits to see what's next. "Come for a procedure, or what?" Data steps forward. "Aha! Now it all comes clear. This is the nerve centre for your evil assimilation plan. Well, perhaps it will interest you to know that we are just the leading edge of an army of nanite- infested Federation shock troops." "Yeah. Right." "Well, perhaps you would believe that at this very moment the Federation's new subspace jammer is being trained on this ship from the planet below." "As if." "Would you believe that I just unscrewed all the fuses in the fusebox down the hall?" Geordi takes Data's arm. "We're not getting anywhere here, Data. Let's try Plan B." They touch controls on their armbands and disappear. Madeline shakes her head and goes back to her magazine. "Have a pleasant day." A corridor. The transporter effect. Worf appears, dressed in a black cat burglar outfit with a length of rope looped over one shoulder and the bat'telh looped over the other on a leather strap. He immediately takes a martial arts posture and advances stealthily down the corridor, keeping an eye open in all directions. Spotting a Jefferies Tube hatch he pulls it open and disappears inside. We hear him climbing away, the bat'telh clanking against the Tube wall. +++++ [Bob: "Okay! Great episode, eh? The programming guy says this episode runs long, so I only have enough time to . . . ."] [Commercial: Don Cherry for Rock'Em Sock'Em Hockey VII] +++++ The battle bridge. A nervous ensign squirms in the command chair. "I hope the annoying lieutenant hurries back. I don't think I can take the pressures of command much longer." "Computer says he and ten security personnel are approaching." "Whew." Riker and Door Repair Guy enter. Jaws drop. Riker covers the bridge with a phaser in each hand while Door Repair Guy disables the door control. "Intruder alert!" squeaks the nervous ensign. Everyone pauses, waiting for some kind of response. Door Repair Guy bows deeply, removes his baseball cap, straightens up again and shakes the hat, producing the sound of loose isolinear chips. "Please do not adjust your set. Audio problems originate at the network." Riker steps around the edge of the bridge until he stands beside the viewscreen. "I think we have the situation well in hand. Computer, where are the renegades Data and La Forge?" *Lt. Cmdrs. Data and La Forge are not aboard the Battle Section* "Huh? Where are they?" The nervous ensign puts up his hand. "Yes? You." "They beamed over to the Borg ship." "BORG SHIP???!!! On screen!" An image of the Borgoprise below the south pole appears. Riker turns on Door Repair Guy, eyes ablaze with anger. "You're working for the Borg! D****t, I think you are a Borg!" He points a phaser right at our hero and fires. Door Repair Guy hits his forearm just as the phased energy stream hits him. He disappears in a burst of light. Riker turns toward the bridge crew, the smoking phaser in his hand. They shift uncomfortably in their chairs. His eyes move from person to person. "Helm. Is there a nebula anywhere near here?" "Y-yes, sir. Five point four light years from here, heading 185 mark 67." "Go there." "Aye, aye, sir. Speed, sir?" "Fast." The Battle Section turns and burns. The main bridge. The officer standing at the tactical station suddenly looks from place to place on the console and exclaims: "Captain, the Battle Section has broken orbit. It's heading straight for the Dominus McGregor Nebula." Picard jumps out of his chair and takes a few steps toward the viewscreen. "On screen. Magnify." View of teeny-tiny Battle Section dwindling away toward the blue and purple nebula. Troi rises out of her chair. "Worf." Picard looks back over his shoulder. "Don't forget Door Repair Guy." The slightest look of annoyance crosses her face. "I nearly had." Picard stands gazing at the viewscreen. He passes his hand back over his scalp and rubs the base of his skull, trying to think of a good reason to follow the Battle Section into the nebula. Data and La Forge materialize with phasers drawn. "So, Locutus, thought you could pull the old I-Don't-Have- Any-Tubes-Sticking-Out-Of-Me-So-No-One-Will-Suspect-I'm-Really-A- Borg trick. Well, I've seen that one just once too often." Troi: "Data! Geordi! How did you get here?" "Would you believe we just beamed in off the bridge of the flagship of the largest space armada ever assembled in the history of the Federation?" "No." "Would you believe there are six cloaked birds of prey just off the starboard bow?" "Not really." "How about a shuttlecraft and a Mr Freezie wagon?" Picard: "Look, Data, Geordi, I'm not Locutus, I'm Jean-Luc Picard. And there's Counsellor Troi, and there's Doctor Crusher. We haven't been assimilated by the Borg. It's confederation." Geordi: "Ah, just like nineteenth-century Canada, the model for all subsequent civilized societies." Everyone: "That's right!" Geordi puts his arm around Data's shoulders. "Well, pal, looks like we made it. We're home again." "And loving it." Troi: "Captain. Are we going to pursue the Battle Section into the nebula?" "No, Counsellor, it's a trap. We'll let them play the Fourteen Hunters for a while, while we dine upon the golden eggs of Borghol. Ensign, lay in a course for the Theta Cuniculi system. Let's see if there's any life on the planet Mopsa." "Aye aye, Captain," says Acting Ensign Edwina. She stands on tiptoes in front of the console, pressing controls with her two index fingers, while her tongue sticks out the corner of her mouth in concentration. The Borgoprise shoots off in a burst. [Music. Credits.] ---Douglas A. McLeod (ai919@freenet.carleton.ca) =============== UPCOMING IN RIF =============== THE BALLAD OF REGINALD BARCLAY STAR TREK II PARODY SCENE CUTTING ROOM FLOOR: ST: The Motionless Picture RESISTANCE: A TNG Serial: Chapter 21 A Planetary Shield Chapter 22 A Double-Cross STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY: 7. The Doors of Perception ============== THE FINE PRINT ============== TRYING TO LOCATE A COPY OF RIF???? 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