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THE OFFICIAL ORGAN OF THE GALACTIC BORG CONSCIOUSNESS
ISSUE NUMBER 60
Special two month issue!
KALIMAT & KAMAL 153 B.E.
13 Jul - 08 Aug 1996


=========
CONTENTS
=========
FROM THAT PESKY EDITOR-IN-CHIEF: Simply Marvelous!
YOUR STARSHIP CAPTAIN JUST MIGHT BE A REDNECK IF...
CUTTING ROOM FLOOR: TNG: Monster in the Transporter
                    TNG: Wesley in Love, Part 2
STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY: 9. Spoilers
The Fine Print


===============================
FROM THAT PESKY EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
===============================
   I will be in the midwest when the next issue of RIF
should be released, so I will miss that issue (my tour
route will be Minneapolis, Milwaukee, and Kalamazoo).
The next issue will be released August 20, 1996! 

Marvelous! Simply Marvelous!
----------------------------
   The only big news is that I am still in shock over
the X-Men/Star Trek cross-over which will arrive in
late August. I had fears about Marvel taking over the
Star Trek comic franchise again, and the X-Men
crossover has confirmed it. I am scared. However, I
want to be fair. So, I will not start renting my
clothing, gnashing my teeth, gouging out organs until
after I have read each new title. Then I will probably
immolate myself or something. Now, kids. I am a
professional. Please do not try that at home.
   Apparently the Marvel design will feature two
monthlies for Voyager and Deep Space Nine, and a bi-
monthly (that's every other month for the calendar
impaired) title which will feature two stories which
will revolve around TOS, TNG, and the good ol' Academy
Days.
   THE GOOD: Voyager will have it's own title after a
year and a half of anxious waiting. The alleged fans
who demanded an Academy Days title will have justice
served (I still think the so-called demand for a Star
Fleet Academy series were just in the head of a crazed
producer whose name will go unwritten. If there was any
demand for such a project, it's time has already come
and gone!). Stories about TOS and TNG will have the
entire timeline to work with. There will not be any
bias on a specific time of reference. Each story will
be independent (barring a mini-series, etc), and will
not be burdened by being placed in a specific milieu
(e.g., post-Star Trek 6 derring-do; between Generations
and First Contact, etc.). This means (or I hope it
means) stories, perhaps about Captain Pike or the early
Captain Kirk, or even of the second five year mission,
should appear with some frequency. The need for
flashbacks will for the most part be DESTROYED, unless
really necessary for the story. This is truly good.
   THE BAD: Malibu was starting to do some very
interesting things with their Deep Space Nine comic.
It's a pity that their hardwork at developing an
independent Star Trek tradition and mindset has been
DESTROYED. They were weird and quirky at times, but
they were starting to outshine the good DC work. DC
would have some very mediocre moments but then blast
through with a couple of storylines that were better
than most of the televised stories. The DC TOS series
was consistently better than the TNG, but the TNG had
its moments as well.
   Malibu was starting to explore the underside of Deep
Space Nine and I had become quite comfortable with
their spin. However, that is to be no more. 
   MIGHT BE GOOD, MIGHT BE BAD: I forgot his name and I
refuse to get up off my chair and look it up, but the
Marvel Deep Space Nine writer will be the same as the
TNG writer. I have misplaced his name in my neurons and
I know it will come to me after I have sent this off.
He's written some novels as well. Oh well.
   He was not the best Star Trek comic writer (may have
been the most prolific, though. The guy must write in
his sleep), but at least he's a proven quantity. There
are many worse. Therefore, we will not know whether
this is a good or a bad thing until we can check out
the other writers.
  THE UGLY: I still have nightmares from the earlier
Marvel Star Trek comic book series. That series made
the Gold Key series look like The New Yorker.  I jest
not.
   Are we entering the nadir of society's love affair
with Star Trek? Or will Star Trek, like the phoenix,
crash and burn only to arise again from it's own ashes?
Or is all this talk of Star Trek's demise premature,
and it's only bad pr? 
   I would have laughed at the naysayers a couple of
months ago, but now with an X-Men/Star Trek Crossover
looming in the distance, I must say I don't know. Even
DC "Anything for a Buck" Comics had the dignity to keep
their Star Trek comics segregated from their other
universe (Superman, Batman, etc.). However, I will
check out the comics as they come out, and try to read
them objectively (NOT!!!!).
  I fear the only thing that may help Marvel is to be
sure to use plenty of BORG.  The BORG will save us all.
Resistance is futile, after all.    
  Take care and see you in 6 weeks!
---Oxnardus


===================================================
YOUR STARSHIP CAPTAIN JUST MIGHT BE A REDNECK IF...
===================================================
   ... your shuttlecraft has been up on blocks for over
a month
   ... he paints flames and a NRA sticker on the warp
nacelles   
   ... you have a shuttle called "Billy Joe Bob"
   ... he refers to Klingons as "Critters"
   ... he refers to Photon Torpedoes as "Popguns"
   ... he has the sensor array repaired with a bent
coathanger and aluminum foil 
   ... he installs a set of bullhorns on the front of
the saucer section 
   ... he says "Got your ears on, good buddy" instead
of "open hailing frequencies"
   ... he hangs fuzzy dice over the viewscreen
   ... he rewires his communicator into his belt buckle
   ... he keeps a six-pack under his command chair and
a gun rack above it 
   ... he says "Yee-Ha!" instead of "Engage"
   ... he has a hand-tooled holster for his phaser
   ... he insists on calling his executive officer
"Bubba"
   ... he sets the fore viewscreen to reruns of
"Bassmaster"
   ... he programs the food replicator for beer, ribs,
and turnip greens 
   ... he paints the starship John Deere green
   ... he refers to a Pulsar as a "Blue Light Special"
   ... he refers to the Mutara Nebula as a "swamp"
   ... his moonshine is stronger than Romulan Ale
   ... he sings "Lucille" instead of "Kathleen"
   ... his idea of dress uniform is CLEAN bib overalls
   ... he wears mirrored shades on the Bridge
   ... his idea of a "gas giant" is that big ol' XO
Bubba after a meal of beans and weenies
   ... he sets phaser to "Cajun"

---Jim Griffith


==================
CUTTING ROOM FLOOR
==================
[Cutting Room Floor is a series memorializing scenes
from the various incarnations of Star Trek which ended
up on the cutting room floor.]

ST:TNG  Monster in the Transporter Episode
------------------------------------------
[TNG 128: Realm of Fear; season 6, episode 2]

   "I had to relieve Mr. Barclay of his command," said
Counselor Troi, matter of factly.
   The senior bridge crew was in the briefing room,
where they spent most of their time on Star Trek:  The
Next Generation.  Picard raised an eyebrow, "You
relieved him, Counselor?"
   "Captain," said Data.  "Under Starfleet regulation
423.1, and I quote, 'The ship's medical officer is
entitled to relieve any officer who is not medically
fit for duty.  Similarly, the ship's counselor is
entitled to relieve any officer who is not
sufficiently sensitive, or one who doesn't play well
with others.'"
   "Hm," said Picard thoughtfully.
   Troi said, "Sir, Mr. Barclay imagined he saw an
animal-"    
   "He did," said Geordi.  "I've just run a standard
sequencing check of the transporters, checking the
ionization of the particle beams from the matter stream
in a closely correlated-"    
   Riker's eyes began to glaze over.  Worf started to
play with his decorative shoulder band. The Captain,
seeing that the conversation was going over their
heads, cleared his throat diplomatically.  "The PG-13
version, please, Mr. LaForge."    
   Geordi shrugged.  "I checked the transporter, and
there's a monster in it."
   "A what?" said Troi.
   "A monster, Counselor," said Geordi.
   "Why must we call everything we don't understand a
monster?" said Counselor Troi.
   "Well, it did attack Mr. Barclay," said Geordi.
   "Then we should use the starfleet term," said
Deanna.  "An unknown lifeform burdened with
unproductive behavioral tendencies."
   Picard sat up in his seat.  "Wait a minute.  Are we
dealing with a lifeform here?  Why didn't anyone tell
me this?"
   "Sir, I believe this is the subject we have been
discussing," said Data diplomatically.
   "Well, then, are they a superior lifeform?  We could
learn some values or morals-"
   "Sir, it is an animal," said Data.
   "Well, a lesser lifeform," said Picard.  "That
brings the Prime Directive into play.  We must cease
interfering with it at once, while continuing to
moralize from afar-."
   "But sir, that would mean continued non-use of the
transporters," said Data.
   "Oh," said Picard.
   "But that's entirely feasible," said Counselor Troi. 
"We can't use the transporters any more."
   Picard raised his other eyebrow.  "And why not,
Counselor?"    
   "We are interfering with alien privacy rights," said
Troi.  "Just think, everytime one of us beams out,
we're invading their habitat.  How would you like it if
aliens suddenly appeared in your bedroom?"
   Picard lowered his eyebrows, then raised them both
again.  "They have, Counselor.  Let's see, there was Q,
the lightning bolt creature, the aliens who made a
photocopy of me...."


Star Trek:  TNG  Wesley in Love, Part II 
-----------------------------------------
[TNG Various episodes]

   "Mom, how do I meet girls?" said Wesley, marching
into sickbay.
   "Shh!" said Dr. Crusher, intently studying a screen. 
"I'm busy."
   "Aw, Mom, you're always working on a new drug to
save the ship.  The crisis hasn't even occurred yet,
and anyway it only takes you a few minutes-"
   "That's not what I'm doing," said Dr. Crusher.  "I'm
studying Captain Picard's personnel file, trying to get
some angle on him...."
   "Why?"
   "I have romantic interests too," said Crusher.  "But
the only time the Captain is nice to me is when he's
replaced by an imposter or taken over by an alien
lifeform."
   "Have you ever tried asking him out on a date?" said
Wesley.  "After all, it is the 24th and a half
century."
   "Yes, I did," said Dr. Crusher.  "And all he ever
says is that he has vital ship's business to attend
to."
   "Well, maybe he does."
   "No, I've seen him!  All he does is stand in his
cabin and practice saying commands like 'Numba One,
make it so.'"
   "Really?"
   "Yes, I've even tried to level with him.  But all he
ever said to me was, "Doctor, please leave. I've got
some Shakespeare reading that is simply vital to attend
to."
   "Gee Mom, you must really be desperate, to want to
go out with Captain Picard."

---Steve Gordon (editorman@aol.com)


==========================
STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY
==========================
Season 01. Episode 09.  
"Spoilers"

Last time on Star Trek: Door Repair Guy:

   "Sir!  The Borg ship has divided into two parts! 
They're standing dead in space!"
   Riker rises from his chair.
   "This is just the opportunity I've been waiting for! 
Arm photon torpedoes!  Phasers ready!  Helm, initiate
attack approach Riker Delta Three."
   The nacelles gather steam and the Battle Section
goes to warp speed in a burst of light . . . .

And now this week's incredibly exciting episode:

   The camera dollies up to the ensign at the helm,
catching the look of surprise, and the rapid glances
from point to point on the console.
   "Captain!  Battle Section approaching on attack
vector!  Speed warp eight!  Intercept in twenty-three
seconds!"
   Picard jumps up from the command chair.
   "Merde!  Red Alert!  Shields up!  Helm!  Get the
Saucer between the Battle Section and the Cube and keep
us there!  Tactical, ready phasers!"
   Shot of Saucer accelerating around Borg Cube.
   Picard hits his commbadge.
   "Mr Barclay!  Tell me you cleaned out that photon
torpedo tube!"
   *Ba>voice cracking<rclay here, Captain!  I'm sorry,
Captain!  Next time I'll...I'll ask permission first!
   "Permission granted in advance, Mr Barclay. 
Transporter room!  Interface with Ops and beam Mr
Barclay and an ordinance crew to the photon torpedo
launch room now!  And beam Counsellor Troi to the
bridge!"
   Rapid editing as we see crew members plucked from
various places on board -- the turbolift, a corridor,
Ten Forward, a martial arts clinic, holodeck three
(Barclay) -- and rematerialized in the photon torpedo
launch room.  After a few moments spent colliding with
and climbing and falling all over one another they find
their work stations and begin loading up the launch
tube and arming torpedoes.
   A commbadge materializes on the floor at Picard's
feet.      
   "Transporter room!  Counsellor Troi is not wearing
her commbadge!  Lock on to all lifeforms in her
quarters and beam them to the bridge!"
   Various potted plants materialize, and in the midst
of them, Counsellor Troi wrapped in a big bath towel.
   Picard bellows over his shoulder to the tactical
officer: "Hailing frequencies!"
   On board the Battle Section the helmsman shouts:
"The Saucer is moving to intercept!"

   Cut to Riker: "Steady as she goes, Helm.  Prepare to
execute Riker Maneuver on my mark.  Steady. . . . 
Steady. . . ."
   The tactical officer reports: "We're being hailed!"
   "Ah ha, Locutus!  On screen!"
   Back on the main bridge Picard grabs the slightly
disoriented Troi by both shoulders, positions her
squarely in front of the view screen, sticks his nose
against her ear and says something, and then throws
himself down onto his belly on the carpeted deck and
elbow-crawls to a spot between the Helm and Ops chairs
where he can relay orders to his staff without being
seen.  He puts a finger over his mouth and then waves
his hands, mouthing the words, "Don't look at me!"
   A larger-than-life image of Counsellor Troi appears
on the battle bridge viewscreen.  She is surrounded by
luxuriant foliage.  Her long, loose hair tumbles down
her breast.  She holds together the front of her towel
with one hand and pushes her hair behind one ear with
the other.  She smiles, extends her free hand toward
the screen and utters one word.
   "Imzadi."
   View of the Battle Section coming out of warp.  It
sweeps past the Borg ship, facing it, ready to fire. 
The Saucer Section sweeps along with it, always
directly between the Battle
Section's weapons and the Cube.
   View of Riker with his mouth open.
   On the floor of the bridge Picard makes a furious
twirling motion with his finger, followed by an
imperative jab.
   On board the Battle Section the tactical officer is
shouting: "Commander!  The Riker Maneuver!"
   "Ah!  Oh!  Saucer Section on screen!"
   We see the Saucer Section coasting sideways in front
of the Borg Cube.  Suddenly the Saucer rotates 180
degrees, presenting the docking interface to the Battle
Section.  Red glowing photon torpedoes erupt out of the
little-known Saucer torpedo launcher.      
   The battle bridge rocks, the officers flying this
way and that.  Riker, lying on his back like a big bug
and grabbing at the arm of the command chair, bellows,
"Abort attack!  Helm, get us o-u-t-t-a h-e-e-r-r-r-e!"
   The Battle Section turns and burns.
   On the Saucer Section Picard stands up and tugs the
hem of his uniform.  Troi gives him a vastly annoyed
look and stamps off toward the turbolift.  Picard leans
over to the officer at Ops and says, "Send up some
fellows to haul these plants down to Counsellor Troi's
quarters, would you?"
   "Aye aye, sir!"
                            *****   
    
  "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/Borg Cube)
                         Also Starring
                         Patrick Stewart
                    as Captain Jean-Luc Picard
     Whoosh! (the 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
                         Marina Sirtis
                    as Counsellor Deanna Troi
                         Brent Spiner
                    as Lt. Cmdr. Data
                         Patti Yasutake
                    as Nurse Ogawa
                         and Dwight Schultz
                    as Lt. Barclay

     The Borg Cube looms into view and comes to a
gradual halt to the sound of hundreds of Borg muttering
to themselves.  The Saucer Section nips around it like
a small terrier.  The Battle Section buzzes the pair
and warps off in a burst of light. 
                              *****

[And now, a Winter Olympics update.
   Ice Hockey was on the agenda today at the 2370
Winter Olympics, and a real barn-burner it was too as
Sweden met the Klingon Empire in semi-final play.  The
Klingon Empire is a recent addition to the hockey
galaxy, but as we have seen in the round robin, they've
taken to it with a passion.  And, characteristically,
it was a penalty-filled game, with 354 penalty minutes
being assessed.  Hockey historians are comparing Team
Klingon to the storied Philadelphia Flyers of the
mid-1970s.  Despite losing twelve players to injuries
the Swedes did squeak out a narrow 4 - 3 victory, the
winning goal coming from the stick of veteran player
Borje Salming, who once again came out of retirement to
compete.]
                              *****

   Shot of the Battle Section maneuvering in orbit
above the beige and ivory coloured gaseous planet Mu
Cuniculi XII.  The ship rises and enters the plane of
the planet's extensive ring system, slipping into the
gap between rings 7C and 8A.  The gap is formed by a
large hunk of ice and stone about the size of -- oh, I
don't know!  It's way bigger than a breadbox.  The
Battle Section insinuates itself in behind this natural
snowplow, saving deflector strength and masking itself
from sensors.
   View of the hunk of ice as seen on the battle bridge
viewscreen.
   The ensign at helm reports, "Orbital injection
complete."      
   A subdued Riker sits slumped in the command chair. 
He says, "Maintain," and scratches his beard, brooding. 
He turns to the tactical officer and asks:
   "What do *you* think happened back there?"
   Suppressing the urge to jump up and down and shout,
"You choked, you loser!" the tactical officer clears
his throat and tactfully suggests, "I . . . ah . . . I
think the Borg have devised some sort of ... illusion."
   "Very lifelike, though.  Got her birthmark right. 
Not what you would call a typically Borg way of
approaching things."  He pushes his beard around.  "And
how did they know I was alive?  Geordi and Data thought
I was dead."
   Riker heaves a deep sigh and shifts around in his
chair.  The bridge officers make eye contact behind his
back.

   A level deep inside the Borg ship.
   A crowd of Borg are pressed around a raised platform
on which two Borg stand facing each other.  The crowd
is in a boisterous mood, many of the Borg shouting
slogans and rather dumb insults at one or the other of
the speakers and at other members of the crowd.  Dr.
Crusher stands over to one side with Nurse Ogawa.  Both
wear "Official Election Observer" armbands. They are
making tricorder records of the event.
   "Ogawa, I can't believe it.  We're about to witness
the first political debate to ever take place on a Borg
ship."      
   "It certainly is remarkable.  Their physiological
responses are . . . unique.  I think they are employing
parts of their brains they haven't used since before
they entered space."      
   "Shh.  It's beginning."
   One of the two Borg raises a finger and points it
repeatedly at the opposing speaker.
   "You!"
   The second speaker raises a mechanized arm and
points it in the direction of the first speaker.
   "Y . . . y . . . you!"
   "A-a-h!" says the crowd.
   The first speaker takes a dramatic step backward,
with a hand over its heart.
   "You you!"
   The crowd gasps.
   "You *you*!"
   Shrieks.
   The first speaker raises a hand to indicate calm,
turns toward the second speaker and intones, "YOOUUUU!"
   The second speaker collapses.
   Fierce applause.
    
   The ready room door chimes.
   "Come."
   Counsellor Troi enters in full uniform.
   "Ah, Counsellor, I'm glad you came.  Um.  Ah.  I
wanted to thank you for your, ah, co-operation today."
   "Don't be concerned, Captain.  We have all been
called upon to enter . . . uncomfortable situations in
the name of duty.  I'm just happy I hadn't actually
gotten *into* the bath."
   He squirms, pulls his collar out with one finger,
clears his throat, tugs on the hem of his uniform, and
sits up straight with his hands folded on the desk.
   "Captain, I wanted to ask you.  Your actions today
suggest that you believe Will to be alive and in charge
of the Battle Section.  How can that be?"
   "Well, I suppose where there's a will there's a
way."  He laughs uncomfortably.
   "Captain, please, get over it.  I forgive you."
   He takes a deep breath and admits, "I'm not really
sure what made up my mind.  It simply came to me in the
heat of the moment."
   The door chimes.
   "Ah.  That will be Geordi and Data.  Come!"
   It's Geordi and Data.
   Data: "Captain.  Counsellor."
   Geordi: "Captain.  Counsellor.  Squeaky clean?"
   "Geordi!"
   "Mr La Forge."
   Geordi smiles.
   "Mr La Forge.  Please tell me about the
investigation surrounding Cmdr Riker's demise."
   "Well, sir, Security reported a turbolift accident. 
Apparently Cmdr Riker had fallen or leapt down an open
turbolift shaft and been hit by an oncoming turbolift
car."
   "How did you know it was Riker?"
   "Well, process of elimination.  Everybody else was
accounted for, so logically . . ."
   "But did you make a positive identification of the
body?"      
   Geordi looks down and shifts from foot to foot.
   "Captain, it was really gross.  They had to use
shovels."      
   Data: "Captain, tricorder readings indicated a high
concentration of replicator Chili Recipe Hot Tamale
Number One, Cmdr Riker's favourite."
   "So you loaded the remains into a torpedo casing and
buried them in space."
   "Yes, sir."
   "Gentlemen, I believe you were the victims of an
ingenious deception.  Both the audacity of today's
attack, and the effect of our . . . Imzadi maneuver,
suggest to me that Cmdr Riker is alive and in command
of the Battle Section.  Data, do we have a fix on the
Battle Section?"
   "No, Captain.  It has vanished."
   Geordi whistles.
   "Old Poker Face."
   "Mr Data, please direct your energies to discovering
. . . whether there is any life on the planet Cauda
Linea."
   "Yeah, Data, I can't wait to find out what's
crawling around down there."
   Data looks puzzled.
   "As you wish, sir, I will get right on it."
   He glances toward Counsellor Troi, but she is deep
in thought with an abstracted, slightly puzzled look on
her face.      
   "Very well, then.  Dismissed."
                              *****
[And now, a Winter Olympics update.
     Luge is a fast and exciting sport, and since the
introduction of the variable-gravity track, it's even
more so.  Today's results confirmed what spectators
have been saying for the past two seasons: the Pakleds
are the biggest bunch of lugers to come along in ages. 
They finished gold, silver, bronze in the singles
competition, and are expected to do as well in the
doubles.]
                              *****

   Data's quarters.  Data is at his work console
contemplating an image of the exterior of the Saucer
Section.  A thin halo of shimmering light adheres to
the skin of the Enterprise, caused by millions of tiny
leaping particles.  Data inputs commands designed to
analyze the particles.  Spot jumps up on the console,
and walks across the controls.  Data lifts Spot down
and re-enters the commands.  Spot pads onto the
controls again, and pounces on the display wherever
Data touches it.  An image of the planet Cauda Linea
comes up.
   "Spot!"
   Data begins to input his commands again.  Spot jumps
into his lap and watches the rapid play of Data's
fingers.  Data taps in the last few commands and lifts
his hand.  Spot lays a paw on the one control that can
delete everything.
   "Bad cat!"
   The door chimes.
   "Enter.  Bad, bad cat."
   Troi enters.
   "Counsellor.  How can I be of assistance?"
   "Data, do you remember our last meeting in the
Captain's ready room?"
   "Of course, Counsellor.  Under normal circumstances
I am incapable of forgetting anything I have
experienced."
   "Under normal circumstances I am incapable of
forgetting a meeting I attended just a few hours
before, Data.  But I'm having the hardest time
recalling just who said what when.  It was about Cauda
Linea, wasn't it?"
   "It is strange you should say that, Counsellor. 
Everyone I have spoken to in the last three hours has
displayed an unusual amount of interest in the
exploration of that planet.  In fact, the meeting was
about Cmdr Riker, but toward the end it took a sudden
and unexpected turn toward the subject of Cauda Linea." 
   Spot meows.
   "Data, since our encounter with the Battle Section I
have been experiencing a strange and unfamiliar level
of telepathic activity on board."
   Spot meows again.
   "Curious.  I wonder if there is any connection to
the halo effect I have observed on the outer skin of
the ship."
   "Really?  May I see?"
   Spot flies onto Troi's leg, a howling, spitting
fury.      
   "MrEowRRRrrEeooWWwwrrr!!!"
   "Data!!  Help!!"
   "Spot!  Bad cat!  Unclaw Counsellor Troi at once!"
   Troi staggers backward before the wrath of Spot. 
The door shooshes open and she stands in the hall,
craning to see Data.  Spot arches and spits, guarding
the doorway.  Troi waves and shouts, "I'll talk to you
later, about whatever it was we were talking about!"
   The door closes, and Data watches Spot frisk by into
the next room.
   "Curious."
                             ******
     
[And now, another Winter Olympics update.
     Today's ice skating competition was marred by an
incident in which the American champion had her leg
eaten by the Gorn entrant.]

[Bob:
     "Ok-a-a-y!  As you may have heard, last year
Paramount bought Canada's Wonderland, the amusement
park situated just outside of Toronto.  And they set up
this really cool Star Trek exhibit.  And each year,
according to this brochure I have right here, they have
a different Star Trek theme, based on a different ah
Star Trek series.  Last year was Star Trek: The
Animated Series, that short-lived cartoon series from
1973.  I remember watching that in my PJs on Saturday
morning.  So anyway this year's theme is Star Trek:
Door Repair Guy!  There'll be a Klingon door repair
workshop.  Just like Krell and Sons.  A toe levitation
ride.  Labatt Maximum Ice for Dad.  And, whoa, boy, all
kinds of great stuff.  And surgical implants for the
kids!  So you won't want to miss that."]

                              *****

   Data decides to tell a joke.
   He enters Ten Forward and looks around the room. 
Everyone is talking about Cauda Linea.  He raises his
voice.
   "Hey, boys and girls, did I ever tell you about the
first expedition to Alpha Centauri?"
   Everyone: "If the Phoo sh*ts, wear it!"
   "Excuse me?"
   Geordi: "If the Phoo sh*ts, wear it.  It's so
obvious, Data."
   Discussion returns to Cauda Linea.
   Data: "Curious.  So far as I am aware, the shaggy
dog story `If the Phoo sh*ts, wear it' has never been
told in connection with the first expedition to Alpha
Centauri.  I believe I must see the Captain."

   "So what you are telling me, Mr Data, is that I did
not *mean* to order you to examine the possibility of
life on Cauda Linea, that rather I *meant* to ask you
to locate the Battle Section."
   "Yes, Captain."
   "And that I gave you the Cauda Linea order because
the ship is infested by a microscopic telepathic
organism which we picked up from the Battle Section, a
life form indigenous to the Dominus McGregor Nebula and
which has used the Battle Section and now the Saucer
Section as a means of transportation out of the nebula
to other parts of the Cuniculi Cluster."
   "Yes, sir."
   "And that these microorganisms have the capacity to
foresee the near future and implant suggestions
empathically so as to manipulate events and arrange
matters to their own advantage."      
   "Yes, Captain."
   "And that, as an android, you are the only person on
board immune to their influence."
   "That is correct, sir."
   "And that they are controlling not only your Captain
but also your cat."
   "Sadly, that is so."
   "Well, I'm speechless.  What would you have me do
about it?"      
   "You must bring the Saucer Section in close
proximity to the nearest stellar body.  The increased
surface temperature of the Saucer's outer skin will
destroy the organisms in short order."      
   "Mr Data, in all my years as . . . My God, Mr Data,
where's the Battle Section?"
   "In orbit around Mu Cuniculi XII, sir.  The
microorganisms have also fled and are hiding aboard the
Borg ship."
   "Good work, Mr Data!"  He taps his commbadge.  "Dr
Crusher, have the Borg voted yet?"
   *They are just about to, sir*
   "You had better warn your observers to expect a
sudden swing in voter opinion."
   *Yes, Captain.  By the way, Jean-Luc, how is the
survey of Cauda Linea coming along?*
   Picard makes his significant development face at
Data. 
                              *****

[Time now for another Winter Olympics update.
     Klingon biathlon combines the skills of bat'telh
and snowshoeing.  As usual the Finns dominated.]
                             ******

   The Battle Section in orbit between the rings of Mu
Cuniculi XII, tucked in behind the icy satellite
Snowplow.
   A level deep within the Engineering hull.  Worf and
Door Repair Guy are working their way along a service
conduit, hunching along below a sloped four foot high
ceiling.  Their footsteps echo down the empty tunnel.
   Worf: "I had no idea the Enterprise had so many
useless passageways."  
   He bumps his head on a low-hanging pipe.  
   "Dah!!"
   "Shh.  There it is.  Listen."
   They come to a stand-still, bent over with their
hands on their knees, waiting as the final echoes of
their voices and footsteps bound and dwindle away down
the metal tunnel.  Silence grows.  Gradually the deep,
never-listened-to sounds of the ship begin to assert
themselves: the pulse of the warp core, and the barely
discernable chatter of microcircuitry.  Worf turns his
head first one way, then another, a look of
concentration settling on the muscles of his face,
followed bit by bit by an expression of dawning
surprise.  Slowly, undeniably, the sound of a wave
approaches.  The noise gathers force and volume.  The
tunnel is filled with the sound.  It is as if they are
standing in an observation passage below Niagara Falls. 
The wave passes directly overhead and surges on into
the distance.  Their ears follow it as it goes, back to
its place beyond audibility.      
   Worf is elated.  
   "RrrrRRrrr!"
   He stands hunched over, casting glances up at the
low ceiling and snarling with pleasure.
   "Majestic!  I can feel the blood in my veins.  What
is it?"      
   "Slush deuterium tank.  (Page 57, _Star Trek: The
Next Generation Technical Manual_.)"
   "Does it always make that sound?"
   "Only when it's low."
   A light of understanding dawns in Worf's eye.
   "A-a-a-a-h."
   They carry on down the corridor, scheming mutiny.
                              *****

[Time now for another Winter Olympics update.
     It seems that the Jamaican domination of the
bobsled competition is destined to continue.  Today
they finished gold for the fifty-second consecutive
time at the Winter Olympics, coming in five point two
seconds ahead of their nearest rivals, the Dozi.  Tiny
Liechtenstein, which can truly be said to have devoted
its entire national effort to this event, managed a
bronze.]
                              *****

   The main bridge.  Picard enters from his ready room
just as the tactical officer announces: "Sir, I'm
picking up a message from the Battle Section.  It's
coming in on a navigational beacon frequency.  It's
weak.  There's a lot of interference."
   "On audio."

*#>*%@h[q+}gw&-[#&;x  Knock knock!    
%*$@<{/\|*$4;kr5,#*&6g",*#@b0 

   "Did you hear that?  Try it again."

7e@s[,:\-z8$&@!;i7]%  Knock knock! 
@><p0[\*&3ytx(\!:x*p&5%39)!4$ 

   "You must have heard that!"
   "It sounded like `Knock knock!' sir."
   "Well, give the response."
   "Excuse me, sir?"
   "The universal response."
   "Aye, sir."
   Blushing red, the tactical officer clears his throat
and asks in a raised voice:
   "Who's there?"

8rja:#[*&%d20n'.@!&*  Doris 
u%o#c:'-/<%*j5,6g*@$!@p[{>)S6*9%.< 

   "It said `Doris', sir."
   Picard makes a gesture meaning "And?"
   "Ahem.  Doris who?"

*&7hf,;kF#@{[,>  Doris always open. 
&f2n.)*l:}+%4fs"8%3#h,o_= 

   The turbolift opens.  Geordi enters and activates
the engineering station.
   The tactical officer looks confused.
   "What can it mean?"
   "It means at least one of our operatives is hard at
work over there."
   "Sir, there's more!"
     
&ge3#';u'j@  Tanks for keeping the slush outside. 
-*&*&t%$#,;] 

   "They want us to wipe our feet, sir."
   Geordi: "No, wait a minute!  They're talking about
the slush deuterium!  Captain, we were due for a refill
before we came through the wormhole."
   "So you mean the Battle Section might be in danger
of running out?  That would affect their warp drive,
would it not?"      
   "`Affect it' is right!  The deuterium is the matter
part of the matter-antimatter reaction!  Without it
they're no faster than we are!"
   "Mr La Forge, see what you can do about syphoning
their tank, would you?"
   "Aye aye, Captain!"
   Geordi exits.  Picard rubs his hands in
satisfaction.      
   A moment later the turbolift opens and deposits a
party of four: Dr Crusher, still wearing her election
observer armband, and three Borg.
   "Captain Picard, permit me to introduce the new Borg
government.  On my left is Empress Natasha Polaroid,
the head of state.  On my far right is Grand Trunk
Railway, Minister of the Exchequer.  And this is Least
Execrable Spleen, the Shogun."      
   Picard bows deeply and says: "I have every
confidence that this marks the beginning of a firm and
mutually beneficial relationship."
   "We need a first ministers' conference," says
Empress Polaroid, and the three Borg march into the
conference room.      
   Picard straightens up and tugs his uniform hem, his
lips pressed together.  He takes a breath and says, "I
think that went well."
   "Jean-Luc, they're all from the Green Party.  It's
the oddest thing.  They want to settle down on Cauda
Linea."
   Picard nods.
   "Yes, yes.  It's a trifle complicated.  I'll explain
it to you over breakfast."
   "Jean-Luc, I just don't know.  Every time I get out
of bed I think things can't get any stranger.  But
every day they do."      
   "Really?  I think things are looking up.  We've
rebuffed Riker's attack.  Our operatives in the Battle
Section are working to put him in the brig.  The Borg
situation is . . . under control.  For once it looks as
if things are falling into place."      
   As soon as these words are out of Picard's mouth the
ensign at the helm exclaims, "Captain, the wormhole!"
  "On screen!"
   The wormhole unfolds in polychromatic majesty,
petals of blue energy spreading out across light years.
   "Captain, sensors show three ships exiting the
wormhole!"      
   The image on the screen breaks up, deconstructs into
static, and resolves again into the grinning visage of
the Grand Nagus (played by Ross Perot).
   "Nyah!  What a ride!  I claim this entire cluster in
the name of all the Ferengi consortiums which I
participate in as a member of the board of directors. 
All enterprises entered into are null and void unless I
get my ten percent!  You got that?" 
...TO BE CONTINUED

---Douglas A. McLeod (ai919@freenet.carleton.ca)

=====================
CONTRIBUTOR WEB PAGES
=====================
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