_____________ ____________ ____________ * / R \ */ \ */ \ * | E ______ | *\____ ____/ *| ________/ * | S |******| | ****| |*** *| F |******** * | I | *| | *| | *| U |____ * | S ~~~~~~~ / *| I | *| T \ * | T ____ \ *| S | *| I ____/ * | A |*** \ \ *| | *| L |*** * | N | * \ \ ___*| |____ *| E | * | C | * \ \/ \ *| | * \__E_/ * \___/______________/ *\____/ ***** **** ************** ***** AN ALL TALK NO ACTION PUBLICATION RIF (818) 880-1743 P.O. Box Malibu, CA subscriptions: ktaborn@lightspeed.net http://whoosh.org/rif THE OFFICIAL ORGAN OF THE GALACTIC BORG CONSCIOUSNESS ISSUE NUMBER 65 SPECIAL HOLIDAY ISSUE Birth of the Bab 5 'Ilm 153 October 20, 1996 ========= CONTENTS ========= FROM THAT PESKY EDITOR-IN-CHIEF: Better Late Than Never, OKAY?!? THE RUMOR MILL: Morn: Keeper of the Gate, Part 2 CUTTING ROOM FLOOR: TNG: Time's Arrow XENA AND GABRIELLE MEET STAR TREK: DS9 STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY: 14. DRG Must Die! Part Two The Fine Print =============================== FROM THAT PESKY EDITOR-IN-CHIEF =============================== Confession is Good for the Soul ------------------------------- Okay. I am behind. I know I made a BIG promise not to let my other fan activities get in the way. Yes, the allure of Xena, Warrior Princess has taken its toll. For those who have just joined the soap opera, in June 1996, I started up a fan organization called the International Association for Xena Studies. It was to be a haven for obsessive fans of the internationally syndicated television show XENA: WARRIOR PRINCESS. I got together a board, we opened a web page (please visit, it's at http://whoosh.org), and then we went into member recruitment and started work on a Journal for IAXS. September 1996 the first issue of WHOOSH (the journal of the IAXS) was on-line. Since then, membership to IAXS has exploded, the website hits have quadrupled (over 150,000 hits in October alone, not including visits to WHOOSH), and the demands of editing a major on-line fan publication has taken its toll. But, WAIT! I am still here. And I am still partial to the Borg. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE (RIF) still remains the only regular (well, okay, so a couple of issues are late) e- zine DEDICATED to quality and diverse STAR TREK parody and all things BORG. We are proud of this fact at Muppet Laboratories...er...the RIF Staff is proud of this great tradition. We have been at this for 65 issues and we look forward to exceeding our 100th issue and entering the 21st century one way or another. It's just that we might be a tad behind now and then. To date we are behind on this special HOLIDAY issue (yes, RIF is also the only regular e-zine which releases extra issues on Baha'i Holy Days). The release schedule should have been: #65 - October 20, 1996 #66 - November 4, 1996 #67 - November 12, 1996 I haven't decided whether I am going to keep with this or horribly alter the timeline by concocting some space-time anomaly like re-numbering everything and forgetting that November 4th ever happened. Until I can make a decision whether to get caught up or just sweep the whole matter under the virtual carpet, I will remain with the original release dates until further notice. Star Trek vs. Xena ------------------ Not only will STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE have to duke it out with XENA: WARRIOR PRINCESS in the ratings game this season, but also in the pages of RIF. This month and in upcoming months we will peruse some interesting cross-overs between DEEP SPACE NINE and XENA. For me, this is a dream come true. For you others, I just ask your patience while I go through my Xenamania in a most embarrassing and most public way. Door Repair Guy --------------- DOOR REPAIR GUY is definitely an acquired taste. I love the series and find it some of the most innovative parody/satire written about STAR TREK. Mr. McLeod has captured the personalities, the quirkiness, and the feel of the series to create these new adventures for the crew of the Enterprise-D. This issue we conclude the exciting first season. The second season will begin next issue and will include more Borg derring-do and a visit to Deep Space Nine. Be there or be square. Belated Holiday Greetings ------------------------- I want to wish everyone a belated Birth of the Bab. (I again apologize for being behind in my RIFness, but I guess I am having too much fun with the Xena webpage and WHOOSH). I am a member of the Baha'i Faith and the Birth of the Bab is a very special day for Baha'is. It commemorates the birth of one of the prophet-founders of the Baha'i Faith. It's a day when Baha'is gather with friends and family and take a moment to be thankful for the friendships they have made and for their family. I think of my subscribers to my various fan projects as a part of my extended family. And what better time could there be to thank my subscribers (even if it is...belated) for their support and kind words for all these months? Without you, the reader, this newsletter would not be half as fun or half as fulfilling (not to mention it would make me look even more neurotic than I currently appear to be). I go back and forth constantly debating with myself whether I might be taking this fan stuff a tad too far; but it is you, the subscriber to RIF, that reminds me that I am not the only one that enjoys the heck out of STAR TREK. To produce RIF is a labor, but it's a labor of love. Then to be able to share this love with others who enjoy the result as much as I do, is probably as close as I will get to nirvana in this life-time. I am happy that there are a handful, maybe more, of fellow Baha'i subscribers, but for the rest, holidays are always universal and I wanted to wish everyone a wonderful Birthday of The Bab, even if it is over three weeks late. Just think of it as a weird time anomaly. Yeah, that's it, a time anomaly. I love Star Trek. It makes embarrassing moments like this look more...er...natural. --Oxnardus ============== THE RUMOR MILL ============== For those who are new to RIF, The Rumor Mill is a column in which I, the washed-up RIF contributor, babble about my upcoming parody of the next Star Trek movie as if you cared, and put forth any other juicy rumors I happen to come across. For your pleasure, I am also using this column to push my serial parody/drama, "Morn: Keeper of the Gate." Morn will speak! The DS9 writers seem determined to tease us with endless shots of Morn in speaking situations where the guy doesn't say a thing. Only yours truly has the guts to show the dramatic consequences of Morn speaking! This will happen at the end of MKOTG part 3, or maybe somewhere in part 4. I'm not being vague, I just don't know yet. If you're a Morn nut, you'll want to stay tuned to this zine for hot Morn action. Well, I've seen the previews for STAR TREK: FIRST CONTACT. I will say that even if it turns out to be a good movie, which I believe is a possibility, it is going to be an incredible parody. Time travel! Incredibly expensive special effects! Worf grunting and saying typically stupid Worf things that are supposed to be funny! [Editor's note: I cringed when I saw the trailer that they played for FIRST CONTACT during the DEEP SPACE NINE tribble episode. There is a shot of Worf saying, "Assimilate this!" right before apparently vaporizing some Borg scum. My first reaction was "Sacre bleu! Can zeese franchise be saaaaved?" Don't ask why I talk to myself in a French accent.] Patrick Stewart barking orders at the camera! In short, every cliche that us parody writers love to exploit. This job is so easy sometimes. It's not like I've been watching Voyager or anything, but I have seen a couple previews while channel surfing, and, as I have noted before, the folks at Paramount seem bent on putting parody writers like me out of business by making the real shows into parodies. If this is indeed the case, Mr. Berman, please note that I live in LA and would be a valuable ally. A parody release date rumor: I will probably see the movie when I go home for Thanksgiving. Judging from the last movie parody I did, this one should be ready for release before Afflux (that's Dec. 8 for you pagans). Well, that's it really. Enjoy the second part of the serial... Leonard Richardson Who hates to see anything he's written go to waste Proudly presents -------------------------- "Morn: Keeper of the Gate" Part 2 -------------------------- [Odo's office. Odo is leaning back in his chair and has his feet propped up on his desk. Seedy trumpet music plays.] Odo [voiceover]: My sources said the parody was a bunch of old unfinished stuff, festering away like the cashew chicken at the late-night Chinese place down on the Promenade. They said the writer had just dug around on his hard drive for parodies he'd never finished and tried to sew all the jokes together with some lame plot involving a Cro-Magnon conspiracy. I wasn't so sure. The only thing I _was_ sure about was that either the seedy trumpet music went or I did. [The trumpet music abruptly stops and we can now hear somebody banging on Odo's office door.] Odo [voiceover]: Me? I'm Odo. I can disregard the most basic laws of physics but I can't get someone to fix my door. [There is a crash as a man smashes Odo's door to smithereens and stumbles inside. It's not Door Repair Guy, although a cameo would not be out of place come to think of it. Odo looks up. The man is bleeding profusely.] Odo [voiceover]: Yeah? Man [whirling around]: Who said that? Odo [normally]: Sorry about that. Whaddaya want? Man: We need to talk. Odo: Fine. Talk. Man [to no one in particular]: Oooh look, it's Aunt Mildred! And there's her murderous little pet crocodile! Aw, izza izza! Aaah! My arm! My arm! It's got my arm! [He begins writhing on the floor.] AAAH! PAIN! AGONY! Odo: You done? Man: No. I got a message for you. Odo: Let's hear it. Man: It's a message from the Cro-Magnon. [Odo begins to show some signs of interest.] Odo: Let's hear it. [Man takes out a piece of paper.] Man [reading from paper]: You're talking to Odo, you moron! You want Captain Sisko! Odo: Fascinating. Man: See ya... MUAHAHAHAHA! [Man beams out in a Cro-Magnon transporter effect.] Odo [voiceover]: The place was crawling with wackos, not the least of which was the writer. I thought about packing my bags, but I had no bags and nothing to pack. Then this dame stepped in. [A dame steps in.] Dame: Is this Captain Sisko's office? Odo: No. Dame: Sorry. [Exits.] [Odo sighs at the stupidity of all other life forms. There is more seedy trumpet music.] [The conference room. The senior officers are sitting around, listening to Kira yell. For continuity purposes, Gul Delocks from part 1 is there too.] Kira: NO NO NO! NO! NO! Delocks: No what? Kira: How should I know, we just started the scene. Sisko: That's not an acceptable reason, young lady! Kira: Fine then. NO WAY AM I GOING TO GIVE OUT PICKLE SPEARS TO DIPLOMATS FOR THREE HOURS! Sisko: Nobody said you had to. Kira: That's good, because I'm not going to. Sisko: Now, we should get back to the business at hand. Kira: I completely disagree. We should go off on irrelevant tangents and end up having O'Brien earthquake- proof the station. O'Brien: NO! Kira: That's my line! Dax: Speaking of which, I haven't had any dialogue yet. Sisko: Well what do you suggest we do? O'Brien: We should wait around for that evil plot thing that the agent of the evil Hem'erhoid told us about back in Part 1. Sisko: No, that's what the writer wants us to do. We've got to find some way to make this an interesting episode, or Paramount will want to know why they're spending $9 million a week for a lousy 4.2 on the Nielsens! Dax: I say we explore the Spamma Quadrant. Sisko: Too risky. I want another option. Kira: Sir, there IS no other option. The Bajoran government has refused to participate in any more dumb religious episodes. Sisko: What about the Cardassians? Delocks: We don't do religious episodes. Sisko: The Ferengi? [Quark's quarters. Quark is lying on his couch, flipping idly through "Comic Relief Characters' Gazette".] Quark: Hm... hey, Neelix got shot out the airlock again! Oh, for fun! Ha ha! [Quark's doorbell beeps.] Quark: Come in! [The door opens and Rom rushes in.] Rom: The Grand Nagus is here! Quark: What? Where? [Quark jumps up and whirls around wildly, looking for the Nagus.] Rom: He's outside. [Enter Grand Nagus Heck, with Mr. Homm-Wannabe as usual.] Heck: Not anymore! Quark: Grand Nagus Heck! Rom: As big as life! Quark: And twice as hairy! Rom: With Mr. Homm-Wannabe as usual! Quark: Bigger than life! Rom: And twice as silent! Quark: I would estimate three times as silent. Rom: You may be right, brother. Heck: Enough of this idle chitchat, I came here for a reason. Quark: He's brilliant! Rom: Imagine, Quark-- a reason! Heck: That's right, kiss up to me! With me, you go places! Without me, you're just lousy comic relief characters and all your business transactions are doomed to failure! I'M THE GOD! I'M THE GOD! AH HA HA HA HA! Ah! My heart! [Heck faints. Mr. Homm-Wannabe takes a large syringe out of his pocket and injects Heck with it. Heck bounces back up, like a cartoon character.] Heck: Oh my, that's potent stuff. Where's Captain Sisko? Quark: Why would he be here? He's probably in some boring meeting or other. [The conference room.] Sisko: I heard that! Odo: Oh yeah, there was some guy who said he had a message from the Cro-Magnon for you. Sisko: What was it? Odo: I don't know, he transported out before I could get anything out of him. [Enter the Grand Nagus, panting. Mr. Homm-Wannabe and Quark are close behind.] Quark: Captain Sisko! I tried to stop him, he wouldn't listen! Heck: It's no big deal Quark, everyone's dyeing their hair! [We see that the Nagus' ear hair is a disgusting shade of purple.] Sisko: I hope you have a good reason for interrupting our incredibly important brainstorming meeting! Quark: Brainstorming meeting?!? Sisko: Er, I mean budget allocation, Quark, there was no need to invite you... Heck: As a matter of fact, as I was explaining to Quark earlier, I do have a reason. I also have a message from the Cro-Magnon. The other people we sent had bad maps, but MY MAP IS BIGGER! Do I make myself clear? Sisko: No. Heck: I shall continue. [Mr. Homm-Wannabe hands Heck a slip of paper, he reads from it.] Heck: Brother Homm-Wannabe; at midnight tonight, you must stuff SPAM up the Nagus' nostrils and smother him-- THIS IS THE WRONG MESSAGE! [Mr. Homm-Wannabe hurriedly takes back the paper and gives Heck another one.] Heck: We have the one you know as Morn. Within thirty hours the show's orbit will decay and the entire studio will crash into Bajor, unless you meet our demands. Captain Sisko, bring a runabout to The Planet of the Overdone Meatloaf in order to listen to our terms. [Heck and Mr. Homm-Wannabe beam out in a Cro-Magnon transporter effect, thus continuing this serial's tradition of having every episode end with the cheesy cop-out transporter technique.] TO BE CONTINUED... NOT REALLY AN ERATTUM: I would like to point out that although Oxnardus is quite right in her statement that she has two eyes, only one of them (as in all standard Borg units) is steely. The other one is Dan. ---Leonard Richardson (leonardr@ucla.edu) ================== 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.] TNG: Time's Arrow ----------------- [episode: Time's Arrow] Captain's Log, supplemental: While pursuing time travelers from the future who have been naughtily zapping humans from Earth's cliche past, I have become stuck here in a cave in 19th Century Earth with Guinan and Data's head. I was surprised to find that even when Guinan was 500 years younger, she still had no eyebrows. "Are you huuurt?" said Picard gently, betraying his anglo/french accent. "Uh-uh," said Whoopi, sitting up. "You say I met you, 500 years in the future? Tell me about it." "Well," said Picard. "It was at the beginning of the second season. We had just convuuurted one of the old phaser banks into a lounge, renamed 10-Forward. But we needed a baaartendar." "A what?" said Whoopi. "A baaartendar," said Picard. "What's that?" said Whoopi, genuinely puzzled. Picard paused. "It's a person who suuurves drinks-" "Oh, you must mean a BARTENDER," said Whoopi, brightening. "I see." Picard made a face. "Yes. Quite." He continued. "I interviewed a numbar of candidates--a rogue Romulan, a left handed Ferengi, Mrs. Troi, Q... and then there was you. You convinced me you were overqualified for the job." "How?" "You had an extensive resume," said Picard. "You had most recently served as a bouncer in the cantina from "Star Wars". But then you tuuurned to the replicator, and said, 'Tea. Herbal grade. Hot.' And I was simply astonished. But all you said was, 'I also read palms.'" And that convinced me that you were the best candidate for this vital post." "Go on, go on." "You go on to become one of my most trusted advisers-- even more important than Riker. Although you do have a tendency to undercut your credibility by wearing silly gowns and hats--but the crew never cuts you down, at least, not in front of you." Picard paused for a moment, and picked up Data's head, which lay discarded on the ground. He opened a compartment, and started fiddling with it. "What're you doing?" Whoopi asked curiously. "I'm leaving a message for the crew, in the future. They may be tempted to use weapons to destroy the alien cave, and we can't have any of that." MEANWHILE, IN THE FUTURE.... "So the aliens were draining the humanity out of those poor people, and feeding on it," said Dr. Crusher. "No wonder their beam had no effect on Commander Riker," said Geordi, who was busy fiddling with Data's head. "What're you doing?" said Crusher. "That head is over 500 years old. You can't seriously believe-" "The main circuitry is intact," said Geordi. "I just need to replace these Double AA dilithium alkaline batteries...." Suddenly, Data jerked. "Weapons..." he said. "Fire... weapons... no...." "It's a message, from Captain Picard!" said Dr. Crusher excitedly. "He wants us to know to fire the weapons!".... ---Steve Gordon (editorman@aol.com) ====================================== XENA AND GABRIELLE MEET STAR TREK: DS9 ====================================== (Bajoran space, 24th Century, Station Deep Space 9) It was a plain and boring day on the old Cardassion space station for Captain Benjamin Sisko and the rest of his senior officers. No activity by the Founders or by the Klingons. It was getting late in the Control Room where Dax was busy monitoring the sensors. "Benjamin," said Commander Jadzia Dax, Trill who had the memories of dozens of life-times, "Its getting late, would you like to have some dinner?" "No thanks, old man, I promised Jake I would make him a fancy home cooked meal. Maybe another night." "Hey, you're the Captain, Captain." As the shifts changed, Captain Sisko retreated to his and Jake's quarters. As he walked in he saw the face of his son who had almost out-grown his father. Jake was a good young man, he was a kind person, but one who had suffered losses. It had been around four or five years since he lost his mother in the bloody battle with the Borg, Wolf 359. That battle saw the end of thirty-nine Federation ships and nearly ten-thousand lives. "Hey Dad, busy day?" Jake said with the usual smile on his face. "Nowhere near. A boring day at the office if anything else. I'm going to go change out of this uniform and then we'll start some home cooking." "Great," Jake said in response. Just as the Captain was walking toward his room, the all-too familiar voice of his first officer, Major Kira Nerys came over the intercom. "Captain, I think you'd better get up here. We have a little problem." "Acknowledged," Said the Captain. "Jake..." before he could finish his son cut him off. "Don't worry Dad, I understand, duty calls." "You're a great kid, Jake. Well, I mean, great MAN." Jake smiled, but Benjamin could see his son was disappointed. "Tomorrow night, I promise," said the captain on his way out the door. As Sisko entered the Control Room he looked at the main viewer. He was shocked to see a huge glowing cloud rolling outside the station. "What the h*** is that?" he said to his officers. "It appears to be an energy cloud of some sort. There's a lot of interference. The sensors are having a hard time penetrating it to get detailed readings." Commander Worf, the stations Strategic Operations Officer decided to speak up. "Captain, I suggest we send out a Level 2A Sensor Probe. Its shielding and neutronic subspace radio will be able to penetrate that much interference." "He's right Benjamin," said Dax. "Good, ready the probe and send it out." The probe was fired from the station and sent into the core of the energy cloud. "We are beginning to receive information from the probe. We're getting audio and video, Benjamin," said Dax. "On screen," ordered the Captain. Then upon the screen appeared serene and beautiful landscapes. They saw two strange looking women. One was clad in leather and armor with weaponry riding a horse. The other, dressed in a skirt wrap carrying a single staff. The audio began coming through. "Xena, I don't understand why you won't let me pamper Argo a bit. She needs a good grooming. Maybe a little soap to that hair and a little bit of brushing," said the smaller woman with the staff. "Gabrielle, this is my horse, I will do what I please," said the Warrior Woman to her friend looking down from the steed. Staring shocked and confused at what he was witnessing Captain Sisko mumbled his officers, "People? People living in an energy cloud in space?" "Benjamin, we're getting more readings from the probe. Amazing. The cloud is a massive temporal disturbance," said the always-ready Dax. "Look," said the Major. Just then, on the screen, they saw a small building of sorts, with columns in front. "Wait a minute," said the Captain," I recognize that, its ancient Greek architecture. But it looks brand-new. If this is a temporal disturbance, we might be looking right into Ancient Greece." "Amazing," said Worf in a low-tone. Sisko, speaking to the computer, "Computer, give all information pertaining to a Xena and Gabrielle from ancient Greece. "Xena and Gabrielle," said the computer "according to scrolls discovered in the twentieth century. Xena was a powerful and agile Warrior Princess. She was one of the greatest warriors in the ancient mythology. She had several legendary exploits. Her traveling companion, Gabrielle of Potadeia, was a hopeful bard who accompanied Xena on all of her adventures." "Fascinating," said Sisko. "Oh no," said Dax. "Benjamin we have a problem." "What is it?" the Captain questioned. "The cloud..its..coming toward us." "What!?" said Sisko. "Captain," said Worf,"its very possible that this energy cloud is also an energy-ABSORBING cloud. The station gives off several forms of energy. It is probably hungry." "He's probably right, Captain," said Kira. The captain thought about what his next move would be. Then, he decided he had no choice. He went over the intercom. "Attention all senior officers. Report to the Defiant immediately. Only senior officers." "Why only senior officers, Benjamin?" said Dax. "If that thing is as powerful as I think, we're in a lot of trouble. No need to kill senior and junior officers." Moments later, the senior staff, Lt. Commander Worf, Lt. Commander Dax, Major Kira, Chief O'Brien, Constable Odo, Dr. Bashir, and, of course, Captain Sisko, all reported ready on board the U.S.S DEFIANT. "Detach locking clamps," ordered the Captain. "This is just what I love doing when I should be eating dinner with my son." "Captain, the energy cloud is dangerously close to the station." said Worf. "Ready the energy bursts." said the Captain. "Ready," said the Chief. "Send out the first bursts." ordered the Captain. The cloud was attracted to the energy bursts. It left its previous prey in search of this new target. The energy bursts were steady from the DEFIANT. But, soon the cloud wanted more. It wanted what was in the DEFIANT. "Captain, it appears to be working. The cloud is being drawn away from DS9, but its coming straight for us," said Worf. Suddenly, the cloud began moving faster toward the DEFIANT. "Captain, its speeding up." said Worf. "Turn us about, full impulse!" said the Captain. "Moving full impulse," said Dax. "Captain, its matching our speed!" said Worf. "Warp one, GO!" cried the Captain. "Engaging at warp one, now." said Dax. "Captain, the cloud is still matching our speed," said Worf. "Sir, I once heard Commander Data, on the Enterprise, say that since energy is free from the limitations of matter, it can travel anywhere at any velocity." "You mean to tell me that that thing can go beyond Warp nine?" asked the Captain. "Far beyond, Sir." responded Worf. "Captain," said the Chief, "maybe we could use the wormhole. If we lead it back to the wormhole, maybe it will become so confused in all that energy that it might devour itself." After a moment of consideration.. "Its worth a shot," said the Captain. "Set a return course to the station, warp 3." Moments later, the DEFIANT returned to the station with the energy cloud hot on its tail. As they headed for the wormhole, the cloud grew weary of this game of cat-and- mouse. It blasted toward them and in a single momentary surge engulfed the DEFIANT. "WHAT'S HAPPENING!?" cried the Captain. "IT HAS ABSORBED US, SIR. BASICALLY, WE'RE IN DEEP TROUBLE!" responded Mr. Worf. "AAAAHHH!!" Those were the painful screams of the crew on board the DEFIANT, as they were ripped out of there own reality and hurdled through space and time into the distant past. Near the station only the drifting empty carcass of the DEFIANT was left. Then in a bright flash of powerful energy, the cloud annihilated the station and its close planet, Bajor. Then, the cloud vanished. (Ancient Greek Woodlands, circa 2000 B.C.) "Xena, how much longer to Epiria?" said the young bard, Gabrielle, while looking about at the beautiful scenery. "Not too long, a day, maybe two," responded Xena the great Warrior Princess. Then, with a surge of monstrous energy and a blinding flash the senior staff of the DEFIANT was deposited on the green grass. Xena drew her sword and leaped down from Argo. "Who are you!? What are you doing here!?" said Xena. "Hey, you're Xena and you're Gabrielle, aren't you?" said Major Kira. "Do we know you?" asked Gabrielle. "No, but we know you," said the Captain. "My name is Captain Benjamin Sisko, these are my senior officers: Major Kira Nerys, Lt. Commander Worf, Lt. Commander Jadzia Dax, Dr. Julian Bashir, Chief Miles O'Brien, and Constable Odo. We are, I suppose, from around four and a half thousand years in the future." "What?" said Xena stunned by what this strange man had just said. "I am the commanding officer of a station far, far away from Earth." said Sisko. "Okay, okay," said Xena, "so basically you are from the distant future. And just how did you manage to get yourselves stuck here?" "An energy cloud that was actually a rip in time absorbed us," said Dax, "that's also how we knew about you two. We saw you in the rip." "Okay...uh..do all people look so different in the future?" asked Gabrielle. "There are many kinds of beings out there that we have met. Worf is a Klingon, Kira is a Bajoran, Odo is a Changeling, or was, I suppose, now he's human. Dax is a Trill. The Doctor, Chief and I are human," said the Captain. "Yeah, whatever," said Gabrielle. "Captain, I hate to bring this up, but what are we going to do now?" asked Odo. "I don't know, Constable." responded the Captain. "I guess you could come with us to Epiria. There's some sort of Festival there. Gabrielle really wanted to stop by," said Xena, "maybe you could even come in handy." "Of course, knowing Xena, there'll be trouble," said Gabrielle. "Hey, I never start trouble, but I always finish it." responded Xena. "Don't worry, ladies, I think we can take care of ourselves," said the Chief. A FEW HOURS LATER... "This is strange, its too quiet," said Xena, "the road to Epirius is almost always filled with bandits and thieves. I was kinda looking forward to doing a little cleaning up." said Xena. "Just out of curiosity," said Gabrielle, "what are those things on your belts?" "Well," said the Doctor pulling out his tricorder, "this is called a tricorder. It records information about something by just aiming it at the object." "And this is a phaser. It's a dangerous weapon and has the ability to stun something, or kill it." said the Major. "Amazing," said Gabrielle. "Okay, now that we've answered your questions, maybe we can get some answers from you. Xena, what is that round metal object hanging from your belt?" asked the Captain. "It's called a chakrum. It's also a dangerous weapon, but comes in very handy in tight situations." said Xena. "What does it do?" asked the Chief. "You throw it. The side is as sharp as a razor." said Xena. THE NEXT DAY... "Well, we're almost there," said Xena. Just then a small group of bandits leaped out of the bushes on the sides of the road. "Well, well, if it isn't Xena. Aren't you going to introduce me to your ugly friends?" said the leader. Xena drew her sword. "Maxius, how have you been, lately? Do you have that little scar from that wound I gave you that made you, oh, how can I word this nicely, less of a man?" All of the men in the group cringed at the thought. Gabrielle chuckled. "Now, you're gonna die!" said Maxius, "ATTACK!!" Maxius's men attacked with their swords and staffs, but the crew of DS9 laughed at them. Each one pulled out their phasers and blasted away. All of Maxius's men were blown away. "What...WHAT ARE YOU!?" Maxius said. "We're Starfleet Officers." They were readying to fire when Xena stopped them. "HE'S MINE." Xena drew her sword. Maxius attacked with an overhead swing. Xena blocked with her blade. She swung to his face. Blocked. And swung low. Blocked. Xena swung around quickly and hook kicked Maxius in the face and then struck him with the handle of her sword. He was out. "So much for Maxius," said Worf. But not yet. While Xena had her back turned, Maxius picked up his sword and came at her with an overhead swing. She sensed him coming and swung her sword around and stabbed him without even turning around. "Umm, so much for Maxius," said Gabrielle. Later, they approached Epiria, and Sisko and the others were amazed at seeing Ancient Greek architecture in perfect condition. "Gabrielle, what kind of festival is this anyway?" asked Kira. "Its not tuned to one thing really, there's a lot of everything." responded Gabrielle. "I've heard some strange things about this place, though," said Xena, "stories about mad sorcerers trying to arise ancient powers in these temples. I don't like it here." "Those are probably all silly stories and rumors." said Gabrielle. Suddenly, a bright flash came from one of the temples. "SILLY STORIES? RUMORS?" said Xena. They ran to the temple gates and they looked in. "I don't believe it," said Bashir, "its the cloud!" They saw an old man in a robe with a group of high priests around an altar. They were chanting. A small energy cloud was forming above their heads. "It started here. It started right here," said the Captain. "But, if the cloud was created here, then why didn't it destroy Earth long ago? Or, I mean, now?" asked Odo. "Maybe the chant they're using put some sort of alarm clock on the cloud. It was brought into existence, but then it put it into stasis. And it won't wake up for four thousand years," said Dax. "We have to stop it here," said the Captain, drawing his phaser, "or we'll never get home. And G** knows what it did after it absorbed us." He aimed for the priest on the altar and fired. Nothing happened. "What the h*** is wrong?" asked Sisko. "The cloud must be interfering with our phasers." said Dax. "Xena, your chakrum," said the Captain, "you have to hit them, quickly." Xena readied the chakrum, pulled back and let it go. It screamed into the temple and struck the first priest in the neck. It ricocheted off the wall and slit the necks of the other four. "YES! You've done it Xena!" cried Worf. They watched as the cloud struggled to survive. Although, without the chant being finished, it was dying and, it vanished. There was a flash. BACK AT THE STATION... "Benjamin," said Jadzia Dax, "it's getting late, would you like to have some dinner? "No thanks, old man, I promised Jake I would make him a fancy home cooked meal. Maybe another night." "Hey, you're the Captain, Captain." Sisko walked back to his quarters. And there he saw his son Jake. "Hey Dad, busy day?" asked Jake. "Nowhere near. A very boring day." responded the Captain. "Okay, lets get cooking." Jake and his father enjoyed a wonderful New Orleans dinner that night. Since the cloud was stopped before it ever happened, the station and all the people on Bajor were safe. The crew remembered nothing of what happened. --- Chris Cosentino (falcon17@ix.netcom.com) --- http://www.scificentral.simplenet.com ========================== STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY ========================== Season 01. Episode 14. "DRG Must Die! Part Two" [Bob: "Okay! We're here at SkyDome in Toronto, along with *fifty* *thousand* fans to watch the season finale of STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY. It's such a nice evening they're opening the roof! It started moving about ten minutes ago . . . " Crazy shot as ENG camera moves around from Bob to the roof. It's partway closed (yes, yes, or partway open) and beyond is a lovely red-tinged sunset sky into which the CN Tower obtrudes. ". . . but you know I don't think it has moved at all in the last couple of minutes. In fact it appe . . . av . . . uck. I ca . . ." By now he's completely drowned out by the capacity crowd's growling chant of "D-R-G! D-R-G! D-R-G!" He keeps talking into his handheld mike as suddenly behind him all the fans in that section rise out of their seats with their arms above their heads and sit down again.] Two minutes ago on Star Trek: Door Repair Guy: Riker turns to the tactical officer. "Fire." And now the exciting conclusion: *mbeep mbeep mbeep* "Photon torpedo launch initiator off line, sir." "Try backup." *mbeep mbeep mbeep* "Same story." "D***n that Door Repair Guy! He must have disconnected more than the door lockout. Hm, maybe if I reroute the command channel through atmospheric control. Try that." Computer console view of the tactical officer. He touches the console at a number of places where there aren't any keys. Riker leans forward and says in a very high voice: *mbeep mbeep mbeep* He sits back. "Still no good, sir." "D**n! So much for the self-sacrificing heroic gesture. We'll have to out think them." "I'm confident we can manage that, Commander." [Commercial: Roberto Alomar for McCain's Fruit Punch.] A corridor in the Enterprise. A panel has been pulled off the wall and is smoking and throwing off sparks. In the middle of the corridor lies Door Repair Guy, also smoking and throwing off sparks. Superimposed ghost image effect as Door Repair Guy sits up and out of his own body, stands, and has a look at himself. "Uh oh." He walks along the corridor. He sees the heel of a white sandalled foot disappear around a corner. He follows it. The side corridor is empty except for the tip of a white wing which disappears around the far corner. "Not a good sign!" He dashes down the side corridor and comes around the far corner, stopping suddenly. Ahead of him stretches a hallway lined with white, waving drapery. A strong white glow emanates from the hallway's far end, within which he can just make out the walking form of a winged biped. "Oh great, the light at the end of the tunnel!" A large yellow dog pads up to him, wagging its tail. "Oh swell, the travelling companion!" Together Door Repair Guy and the dog proceed down the curtained hallway. They come to an ascending staircase. "Hm. This is a good sign, everything considered." He climbs it. The dog lies down at the bottom step. ("So I can break my neck when they kick me out," thinks DRG as he stomps upward.) At the head of the stairs is a landing, and beyond that a set of wrought-iron gates. "The Pearly Gates!" Seated on a stool with his chin in his hand and his elbow on his desk is an old bearded fellow in flowing white robes. "So, like, you'd be Saint Peter?" "I am." "So, you gonna let me in?" "I cannot." "Huh? Why not?" "The computer's down." Peter indicates the terminal next to his elbow. "You'll have to come back another time." "Gee. That's too bad. Well. Bye!" "Wait!" Door Repair Guy climbs back up the eight steps he's already travelled. "Do you know anything about computers?" "Ah . . . no." "Wait!" DRG climbs up again. "How are you with hinges?" "Not bad, I guess. I didn't bring any tools." "Can't you have a look at it?" "Well . . . okay." He hunches down and eyeballs one of the lower hinges, then peers up at the other. He does the same for the other pair. He walks inside and stands between the two gates, swinging them forward and back with his two hands. Peter stands outside, following each part of the examination with a worried look. "They're a bit stiff. Do you have any WD40?" "We have unguent." "That'll do." Peter brings some unguent and Door Repair Guy smears it on the hinges, then stands between the gates and swings them to and fro as before. Peter stands outside, watching and listening attentively. "That's much smoother." "I'll say." He gives both gates a good push and they come together with a satisfying click between him and Saint Peter. "Well. Until next time, I guess." Peter waves, smiling, until he realizes he's on the outside and Door Repair Guy's inside. "Ha! Joke's on you! Now you have to grant me a wish." "I do not! You made that up!" "Maybe I did, and maybe I didn't. I don't see that it changes the situation." "Grrrrr. I've got friends on the inside, you know." Door Repair Guy stands there with his hands on the bars, looking a little nervous now. "Grant me a wish anyway." "An archangel could come along at any moment, you know." "Well, then, he'd see what a fool you are, wouldn't he?" "O-o-o-h! All right. What's your wish?" "Hero of the day." "All right, but I choose the day." "I choose the day." "All right! Granted! Open up!" DRG opens up. "Now scram!" DRG's already halfway down the stairs. "But you trip on the dog." Crash! Yelp! Bark bark! [Commercial: Canadian Airlines, the one with the autographed airplane. When the jet comes in over the roof of the hanger, life-sized on the Jumbotron, everyone goes: "Wa-a-a-a-a-a-a-ah!!!!!"] Back in the corridor in the Enterprise. Door Repair Guy sits up, swaying. "Whoa! This near-death experience stuff is hard on the system. I'm hungry!" He uses his door maintenance override to enter a nearby room and returns again with a quart of vanilla yogurt. He strolls along the corridor, gulping big spoonfuls of it, when who should he meet walking the cat, well, holding it by the tail, but Armus. "RRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!! AT LAST, A HUMAN!!!!!!!!!!!!" DRG jackrabbits. "RRRR!!! YOU CANNOT ESCAPE ME!!!!" DRG hightails it round a corner and into a side- corridor. He runs up to a turbolift door and waits. "Come on. Come on. Come on." Then he notices the red light on the control panel. "Car out of service." He dashes for a nearby door just as Armus rounds the corner. "RRRR!!!! REVENGGGE ISSS MINE!!!! RRRRR!!!" The door begins to close behind DRG but Armus gets an oily limb through it and forces it open. DRG hits a key on his Borg keyboard implant: ESC. *Fzzt* "Not Fragile!" Armus advances. "I WILL SQUEEZE THE LIFE OUT OF YOUR INSSSIGNIFICANT HUMAN FORM!" DRG throws chairs, tables, computer consoles and anything else he can at the advancing creature. At last he is cornered with only one option remaining. He throws the vanilla yogurt. "AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! I'M MELLLLLTTTING!!! Armus melts. Spot drops to the floor and begins to lap up the yogurt. "Oh, that's gross." "Captain, I'm picking up an object in orbit near the Enterprise. It's about two metres in length and constructed primarily of metallic alloy and silicon-based compounds." "Could it be some kind of torpedo casing? On screen." "Holy mackerel! It's Data!" "Lock on and beam him aboard!" Transporter effect as Data is transported onto the floor of the yacht. Geordi leans down and touches Data's shoulder, but pulls his hand quickly back. "Wow! That's cold!" Frost is now forming all over Data. Nevertheless he manages to say: "C-c-c-aptain, L-l-l-ore an-n-n-d Armus h-h-h-ave c-c- ontrol of the sh-ship an-n-nd are p-p-p-planning to at-t-t- ack the g-g- g-g-g-" "The gaggle! Plot an intercept course! If we have to, we'll ram them!" "Aye, Captain." The bridge. Lore is doing a sort of two-step around the ops and helm chairs, inputting commands and singing an original composition about photon torpedoes. On the main viewscreen is an image of the completed lifeboat gaggle afloat against the curve of the planet below. He's building up to the grand finale: "And . . . now . . . they're . . . armed!" Behind his back we see a Borg personal transporter effect. He turns and sees Door Repair Guy. "So-o-o-o-o, come to see the big light show?" "A-a-a-w, you mean I missed the dance number?" "You're pretty smart, you measly goody-two-shoes human. Are you going to lecture me on how wrong it is to be so bad? You humans make me sick with your moral humbug." "I really wanted to see that dance number." Lore gives him a look. "You're as odd as that lubricated cat-lover." "Well, you're no John Travolta." "What do you mean I'm no John Travolta?" He accesses furiously with an annoyed look on his face. He finds the file and his face breaks into a smile. "Oh, you mean, this?" He points with both index fingers, spreads his feet, lays one hand against his hip and extends his other arm above his head, indicating the ceiling. As quick as lightning Door Repair Guy draws a ball-peen hammer from his belt and precision-throws it, bouncing it off Lore's off- switch. Lore looks stricken, teeters, and falls, stiff as a board in the posture of John Travolta on the cover of "Saturday Night Fever". Riker, Ursula and the tactical officer burst out of the turbolift, phasers firing. "Hey!" Door Repair Guy dives and eats rug. Picard comes on the viewscreen, saying: "Surrender at once or face immediately destruction." Riker tugs his uniform and smiles, "We surrender." [Commercial: "New in July: the Klingon Network. Join Krong and Bupokh for `Klingon Flyfishin''. `Yep, that's a big one.'] The Enterprise in orbit. Shuttlecraft can be seen moving between the diminishing gaggle and the saucer section, towing lifeboats back toward several dozen spacesuited figures on the saucer surface who are carefully fitting the vessels back into their berths. Troi and Doctor Crusher walk along a corridor full of busy cleanup crews. They both have their hair in braids, and look a bit like they've just come back from camping out. Dweenie and Clarabelle come skipping along past them, their hair also done up in braids. Dweenie: "Thank you for doing our hair." Clarabelle: "We look very elegant." Troi, laughing: "So you do." Deanna and Beverly continue on their way, followed by Worf and Alexander. "Father, are you going to keep your hair like that?" Worf shakes his head No, the dreadlocks flying. Picard and Riker walk by. Picard is saying: "Of course the court martial will have to proceed; however, in light of recent events, I cannot see any possible alternative to acquittal, for you and for . . . what is his name?" "It slips my mind. But I'm sure he'll be glad to hear the news, whoever he is." Geordi and Data come along next, Data holding up a tricorder and obviously pursuing some reading. He stops and peers down a crowded side-corridor, and exclaims when he finds what he has been looking for. "Here, Spot. Poor pussycat. Your fur is a mess, is it not? What an unhappy cat." Data holds the grimy feline at arms' length. "My only problem now is to decide how best to clean my cat. Have you any suggestions, Geordi?" Geordi frowns and looks at the cat from a number of angles. "Spot remover?" "MREOW!" The oily tail disappears around the corner. [Commercial: That catfood commercial where the cats accelerate into orbiting electrons.] The bridge. Picard is in the command chair, with Riker and Troi on either hand. Worf is at tactical, Data at ops. "Bridge to Engineering. Status report, Mr LaForge." *LaForge here, Captain. All systems back on line. We've run a level one diagnostic. There's nothing wrong with this ship beyond a few stuck doors* "Would you like to stop off at a gaseous moon to top up the deuterium tanks?" *Not necessary, Captain. As long as the wormhole gets us within fifteen thousand light-years of the Federation we'll make it to starbase on present reserves. Besides, too much of that homebrew and we could develop knock and ping* "We can't have that. Stand by to go to warp. Picard out. Mr. Worf, are all the lifeboats stowed and escape hatches secured?" "Yes, Captain. However, it will be some time before the lifeboats are totally reprovisioned. The milk chocolate bars proved particularly popular." Troi screws up her face and makes a fist at him. "Mr Data, have you been able to complete your review of the wormhole records?" "Yes, Captain. When viewed at a rate of ten nanoseconds per second the records reveal an elaborate system of directional indicators." "Can you put that on screen?" "Affirmative." On the viewscreen the planet Petrus is replaced by a stop- action replay of the wormhole passage. As a digital time index counts away in the corner the twisting light- filled wormhole creeps forward step by step. "We are watching the wormhole record of the Borg/Saucer confederation. In eighty nanoseconds recorded time, or eight seconds viewing time, the Borgoprise will exit the wormhole. Please observe the upper right-hand corner of the screen." The wormhole advances segment by segment, veering and turning slightly. As we watch, a large green arrow with the words LAST EXIT appears and passes by. Moments later there is a brilliant flash and the blackness of intergalactic space replaces the wormhole. "It's really quite straightforward, isn't it?" "Yes, Captain. I have programmed the navigational controls to react to directions of this sort and to take the first off- ramp that promises to lead to Federation space." "Helm, take us into the wormhole, warp two." The Enterprise elasticizes and disappears in a burst of light. "Coming up on the wormhole now, Captain. Three, two, one, entering wormhole now." Special effects as wormhole blossoms. The blue and orange entrance gives way to a twisting light-filled tunnel like some sort of cosmic rabbit warren. As the tunnel walls zoom by, lights curve along with the Enterprise. Other travellers? Space-time phenomena? Angels? Intergalactic chipmunks? Data reports: "We are now passing numerous off-ramp indicators. It is reasonable to assume that we have entered some galaxy." Riker and Picard exchange glances. "But which one?" Suddenly the viewscreen whites out. As the light fades, stars come into view, not just two dozen, but millions and millions. "Full stop. Where are we, Mr Data?" "Navigational sensors reporting now. We are within Federation space, three point two six light-years from the Ceci N'est Pas Une Pipe Nebula. Starbase 106 is eight hours two point three five minutes away at warp five." "Helm, lay in a course for Starbase 106. Warp . . . eight. Engage." [Commercial: "Coming in July: the Klingon Network. Laugh with the zany Kruge family in `At Home with the Klingons'. `Sweetheart, I'm home!' Headbutt to the bridge of the nose. `You did not take out the garbage!' Yes it's family violence on `At Home With the Klingons'.] The planet Rhadamanthos III looms red and jasper against the starry sash of the Milky Way. [SkyDome crowd: "Oooo".] As we watch, the blue sparkling space-city called Starbase 106 rolls into the shot. [SkyDome crowd: "Aaaah".] The starbase's mighty space doors rotate into view. The camera moves in on space-dock approach vector. Slowly the space doors move toward the centre of the screen, opening as we approach. We pass through. Starships are docked at intervals within the interior volume of the cavernous `roundhouse'. We see Indomitable, a sister of the famous Excelsior; Fortinbras, one of the comparatively rare Elsinor class; Argo, unmistakable with large intelligent eyes painted on the upper forward face of its saucer; and, as we come around, the Enterprise, NCC- 1701-D. We move up to the Enterprise, approaching the forward edge of the saucer section. Now we're close enough to make out individual people through the windows. Hey, they're having a party in Ten Forward! Indeed they are. Captain Picard stands with a flute of champagne in one hand. He is entertaining a small attentive group with a story he has been saving up for an occasion just like this. "So the Admiral said, `Do you think that time travellers will make another attempt to secure the Tox Uthat?' Well, what could I say, she'd virtually tied my hands. I put the shuttlecraft on autopilot, turned, and said, `Frankly, Admiral, I'd consider that a Vorgon conclusion'". When he has finished laughing and his eyes have uncrinkled he notices there is no one there except a rather skeptical- looking Guinan. "Guinan. I haven't seen you for a while. Where have you been keeping yourself?" "Right here. Serving drinks. You can't imagine how popular Canadian beer is among the Borg." "Really?" They move toward the windows. "The last time we spoke you were considering retirement." "Yes, I suppose I was. That seems quite a while ago now." Picard gazes out the window at the nearby shape of the docked Fortinbras. "So?" "I beg your pardon?" "Are you going to retire?" "Oh, good gracious, no." "So why then and not now?" "Well, look at all we've learned. We find that the galaxy is bound together by wormhole superhighways. We've learned that the Borg can settle down and go to work for a living. And, perhaps most importantly, we've discovered that no matter how far we travel we can never be sure that chipmunks haven't got there ahead of us." Worf and Doctor Selar stroll by, deep in personal conversation. "One simply does not know what new wonder will be added next." "Hm. I guess there have been a few changes." She looks over in the direction of the bar where Riker is holding court. He's saying: "Frankly, Admiral, I'd consider that a Vorgon conclusion." Peals of laughter. Riker stands there smiling and stroking his beard. Picard: "Guinan, do you know, I've been thinking about the events of the last weeks, and I wonder if there isn't a lesson in here somewhere if we only look." "Oh yes, and what might that be?" "Well, as I stand here, observing Commander Riker score social points with my joke, I am experiencing a certain degree of discomfort and, I must confess, jealousy. I really wish I had his ability to control circumstances with humour. But, in the light of recent events I'm forced to admit that it is simply unreasonable to expect to be able to have control at all times. I was planning to take early retirement purely because I was infuriated at the fact that I hadn't been told some petty bureaucratic secret. Imagine giving up all this -- the entire cosmos, if you will -- because of a tiny thing like that." "So . . . you're going to be a little less controlled in future, is that what you mean?" "Yes, precisely. At the end of Shakespeare's comedies there is usually a dance, and even the Duke joins in." "Well, Duke, what are you proposing?" Picard thinks about what he's saying for a moment, and then raises his voice: "Remove the tables! Computer, Russian music!" The crowd forms a wide, curious circle, and as the balalaikas strike up, Picard begins a spirited Cossack dance. Soon everyone has linked arms and is joining in. Word quickly spreads and curiosity seekers start to crowd into the bar. Guinan can be seen craning and counting heads. "Hey, we're exceeding fire regulations!" She grabs Worf as he bobs and kicks past. "What is it, Guinan?" "Worf, we need extra security on the door!" "Very well. I'll send up three extras. Worf to Security." Guinan slumps into one of the abandoned chairs pushed up against the windows, amazed once again at the power of suggestion, and finds herself seated across the table from Counsellor Troi and a large chocolate sundae. "Is that your first?" "Third." "Better get out there," indicating the dance floor. She puts her chin in her hand. "No partner." "Ah." Guinan looks around the room and spots Riker and Security Guard Ursula dancing by, clearly building up to a big date. Over to one side of the room Doctor Selar is running her fingers through Worf's hair and whispering in his ear. Or is that what she's doing? They seem to be of one mind about it, whatever it is. And now Picard is escorting Doctor Crusher out onto the dance floor. "It does seem to be a pairs' finals. Oh well, all's fair in . . . ." "Don't even say it." "Well. There's always that door repair guy." "Please!" "Where is that little rascal, anyway?" "Transferred. Some technical problem at the starbase." Space. The camera pans across the starfield and arrives at the outer surface of the Starbase 106. We see the huge space doors, which have somehow managed to become stuck halfway open. A tiny figure in space suit and magnetic boots trudges across the metal surface of the space station toward them, lugging a toolbox and a twenty pound sledgehammer. Low-level muttering and swearing can be heard on the communications channels. [Music soars. Credits.] [Bob: Wipes away tear. "Oh, jeez, I always get emotional at endings like that. What a great show. I'll remember this for . . ." The SkyDome crowd roars. "Oh! There's more!" On the Jumbotron screen is a huge Cardassian head peering down disdainfully at the assembled. From the Ralph Lauren shirt and Vuarnets it can be only one man: the Executive Producer! "Puny humans, did you imagine that my works were yet complete? To date you have netted my company $90 billion clear profit. But it is not enough! Sales of Door Repair Guy action figures have been sluggish. Today, I announce the release of the next four figures: the Antipodean, Saint Peter, the Green Party fundraiser, and the lascivious Darryl. But they won't ship until current inventories are depleted! Furthermore, the soundtrack album is now out, featuring the music of Level 42, the Average White Band, the Doobie Brothers, and many more. Available at all Sam's outlets! And look! Collector cards too numerous to count! So get out there! What else. Oh yes, the program has been renewed. Executive Producer out." Looting and rioting on Yonge Street.] --Douglas A. McLeod (ai919@freenet.carleton.ca =============== UPCOMING IN RIF =============== CUTTING ROOM FLOOR: TNG: Wesley in Love, Part 5 MORE BORG TAGLINES ST:TNG: "THE UNETHICALS WITHIN" An Original TNG Parody STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY: 15. Point of Departure ============== THE FINE PRINT ============== TRYING TO LOCATE A COPY OF RIF???? WORLD WIDE WEB: http://whoosh.org/rif INTERNET EMAIL: Request free subscription: send "subscribe RIF" to ktaborn@lightspeed.net. LEGAL STUFF Permission to use, copy and distribute Resistance is Futile Newsletter (RIF), or parts thereof, by electronic means for any non-profit purpose is hereby granted, provided that both the above Copyright notice and this permission notice appear in all copies of the newsletter itself, and that proper credit is given for any excerpts. Any other format or purpose for distribution requires permission of the author. Reproducing RIF or parts thereof by any means implies full agreement to the above non-profit-use clause. "Star Trek" and all "Trek" related names and characters are registered trademarks of Paramount Pictures Incorporated. No infringement on that trademark registration is intended, either by RIF or by the contributors it represents. RIF exercises it's right to parody and satirize. RIF is distributed free of charge. Banner graphic by Marian Pappaceno. Resistance is Futile. An All Talk No Action Publication. Copyright (c) 1996 by Kym Masera Taborn. SOLICITATIONS FOR NEXT NEWSLETTER The next Resistance is Futile (#66) will be released soon, I hope. I really, really am trying (yes, my desperate pleas and $1 will get you a cup of coffee). Send submissions to Oxnardus at the addresses notated below for consideration for a future issue. "RIF" is a non-profit fan publication. The editors retain editorial control and reprint privileges over the submitted materials and reserve the right to use the material in whatever way they deem appropriate. Submitted materials will not be returned to the sender. Editor-in-Chief: Oxnardus of Borg Resistance is Futile BBS (805) 588-9349: Oxnardus Internet: ktaborn@lightspeed.net WEB SITE: http://whoosh.org >>>>> Have you heard? RIF has two sister publications called "Xena: The Media Review" (XMR) and WHOOSH! (The Journal of the International Association of Xena Studies). Come and subscribe to XMR and share in the on-going collection and annotation of references to Xena: Warrior Princess (XWP), Lucy Lawless, and Renee O'Connor found in the major media in electronic form. Check out XMR at http://xenafan.com/xmr and WHOOSH at http://whoosh.org