Guess what?  This is a copyright acknowledgment.
Paramount owns Star Trek, and some of the names
used in this story.  The rest is mine.

Author's Note:  This story was written before The 
Powers That Be decided to mess with the Klingon/Federation 
alliance, so let's all pretend that the Klingons are still allies 
with the Federation.  Won't that be fun?  I thought so.  Read on.

Author's Note II (The Sequel):  Are you bothered by senseless profanity?  
Sure, we all are.  That's why we've attached the FedSPCA-approved 
Cus-Be-Gone Model 4447 Profanity Filter (Patent Pending) to 
Commander Scott Baird and some of the other characters in this story.   
Now, enjoy the story in uninterrupted comfort.

STAR TRAKS III:
	Attitude Adjustment
		By Alan Decker

Chapter One

	Admiral Jean-Luc Picard felt a headache coming on.  He tapped 
the switch to open the bottom desk drawer, hoping that he'd 
remembered to recharge the neural reliever Dr. Crusher had given 
him.  His door chime suddenly beeped like a red alert alarm at 
full volume.
	"Come," he said weakly as he pulled the reliever out of the 
drawer.  The power indicator read empty. "Damn," he mumbled.
	"Admiral Picard, I demand that you do something about this 
outrage!" Ambassador Kyyyecht of the Rusai shouted angrily as he 
stormed into the office.  Picard's head throbbed painfully as the 
noise buffeted his eardrums.
	"What can I do for you, Ambassador?" Picard asked as he 
started to massage his temples.
	"I just read the report on the Joegonot incident, Admiral.  
Captain Rydell's actions were outrageous!  The Prime Directive 
specifically prohibits interfering with..."
	"Ambassador," Picard interrupted, "Please calm yourself.  We 
can discuss this rationally... and quietly."  Picard was not 
looking forward to this conversation.  The Rusai were obsessive 
about rules to the point of fanaticism.  Any breach of Federation 
regulations by Starfleet had the Rusai Ambassador in Picard's 
office outraged.  It was times like these that Picard wished that 
he hadn't accepted the promotion to Fleet Admiral.  All of these 
petty complaints ended up in his lap.  "Admiral Wagner reviewed 
Captain Rydell's logs and decided that Rydell did what he had to."
	"The Prime Directive was violated and a valuable scientific 
invention was destroyed all because of Rydell's incompetence.  I 
want action!"  The door chime beeped again.
	"Come," Picard said thankful for the interruption.  The doors 
slid open and Admiral Matthew Dillon charged into the office.
	"Sorry for the interruption, Jean-Luc, but I've got to talk 
to you about my nephew," Matt began.
	"Funny you should bring him up," Picard replied.  "We were 
just discussing his captain."
	"Admiral, I think my complaint is much more important," 
Kyyyecht insisted.  "I have no problem with the Secondprize's 
first officer.  It is it's captain that is the problem."
	"Travis' mother is driving me crazy, Jean-Luc," Matt 
continued.  "Travis wrote her about how he saved Captain Rydell and 
helped prevent the destruction of the universe and now she calls 
me four times a day saying that he should be promoted.  I'm not 
completely sure she's right, but..."
	"Admiral Picard, I want Rydell brought back here for a full 
investigation."
	"We could give him a ship on the Klingon border.  They're our 
allies.  Nothing will happen there."
	"The Prime Directive must not be compromised like this."
	"We'll give him a small ship."
	"Justice must be served!"
	"What could possibly happen?"
	"Rydell is a menace."
	"Travis is really not that bad.  He graduated at the top of his 
class."
	"He deserves a full inquiry."
	"He deserves a promotion."
	"ALL RIGHT!!!!!!!!!" Picard bellowed.  "That's enough!!!!  
Requests granted!  Now get the hell out of my office!"
	"Thank you, Admiral," Kyyyecht said with a nod.  "I am glad 
to see that Starfleet values it's regulations and the laws of the 
Federation."  The insectoid ambassador crawled out of the office 
on his six legs.
	"I'm sure Travis will do fine," Matt commented.
	"I trust your judgment, Matt," Picard replied.  "Just fill 
out the orders, and I'll sign them."
	"Thanks, Jean-Luc."  Admiral Dillon left the office.  Picard 
leaned back in his desk chair with a groan.  His head was killing 
him.  Picard rummaged through the cabinet behind his desk and 
pulled out a bottle of green liquid.  Some Aldeberan Whiskey 
sounded real good right now.





Chapter Two

	Captain Alexander Rydell switched off his viewscreen and 
collapsed back on his bed.  Admiral Picard's communique was not 
exactly the type of news that Rydell liked to receive.  A flash of panic 
went through his body.  This was not a good sign for his career.  
Absently, he got up and wandered out into the hall.

	Commander Travis Dillon switched off his viewer and started 
dancing around his quarters.  His uncle had finally come through 
for him.  He felt like he was going to explode with joy.  Finally, 
he was getting the recognition he deserved.  Happily, he bounded 
out of his quarters and out into the hall.

	Lieutenant Emily Sullivan stood outside of Transporter Room 
Three talking to Transporter Chief Monica Vaughn about Monica's 
favorite topic: men.  More, specifically, Emily was talking about 
her man, Chief Engineer Scott Baird.
	"It's been almost three weeks now."
	"Emily, are you going to keep telling everyone exactly how 
long you and Scott have been together?" Monica asked.  "Come on, 
it's only a relationship.  People have them all the time."
	"Well, it's a big deal to me.  I..."  Emily stopped in mid-
sentence as she saw Captain Rydell approaching.  He was mumbling 
something and bashing his fist against his forehead.  "Is he 
O.K.?"
	"Oh my God.  Oh my God.  Oh my God.  Oh my God." Rydell 
muttered as he passed.
	"He must have gotten somebody pregnant," Monica said.
	"Whatever."
	"Probably some poor, unsuspecting ensign.  Or maybe a lieutenant.  Wait a second!  Maybe it 
was 
you!  You're carrying Captain Rydell's love child."
	"Shut up before I ram a phaser down your throat," Emily said angrily.  
	"What's your problem, bitch?" Monica replied.
	"Slut!"
	"I'm going to kill you!" Monica shouted as she dove at Emily. 
 The two hit the floor in a heap and rolled along fighting, 
knocking down passing crewmen and sucking them into the growing 
brawl.

	Commander Scott Baird was walking down the hall on the 
opposite side of the ship from the Sullivan/Vaughn brawl.  He was 
pissed off at the moment and nursing several scrapes and bruises. 
 A glitch had occurred in one of his bicycling holodeck programs, 
suddenly erasing part of the mountain he'd been riding on.  
Normally, he'd complain to the chief engineer, but since he was 
the chief engineer, he could only storm back to his quarters 
muttering obscenities.
	"F***ing piece of sh**.  Drop my f***ing bike off a f***ing 
mountain.  I'm gonna have to rewrite the whole damn program.  
F***!"
	At the other end of the hall, Commander Dillon was entering 
his seventh rendition of "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning" and 
waltzing along.
	"F***ing cheap technology.  I'll take a f***ing sledgehammer 
to the whole damn system."
	"I've got a beautiful feeling, everything's going my way."
	"I loved that bike." Baird caught a bit of motion out of the 
corner of his eye.  He turned just as Dillon went into a spin 
smacking him across the head and slamming him into the wall.  
"F***ing perfect," he mumbled, then lost consciousness.  Dillon 
switched to "I Feel Pretty" and kept on dancing.
	
	"Oh my God.  Oh my God.  Oh my God," Captain Rydell said as 
he bashed his fist against his head.  He was completely unaware of 
the riot erupting behind him.  He passed two more crewmen.
	"How dare he take the Lord's name in vain," Lieutenant J.G. 
Peter Franks exclaimed in disgust.  "Some people just have no respect for their diety."
	"He has done nothing," Lieutenant Dassa replied.  "There is 
no true deity except the Hyack.  Your Christianity is just a 
fiction."
	"You alien monster!" Franks shouted.  "God is all, and humans 
are His children.  You should be thankful that we don't enslave 
you all in His name."
	"Hyack rules all, infidel."  Dassa said and started to walk 
away.  Franks charged him.  Dassa swung around at the last second 
and caught Franks with a roundhouse kick.  Franks staggered back, 
but regained his senses quickly.
	"You die for that one."
	"We shall see, human."  The two circled each other looking 
for an opening to attack.  They both lunged at each other just as 
the mob swarmed over them.  The brawl got a little bigger.

	Dr. Rebecca Singer found the prostrate form of Commander Baird 
lying in the hallway by accident.  She'd been walking back to 
sickbay from an emergency call when she tripped over him.  
Singer leaned down, opened her med-kit, and pulled out a 
hypospray filled with a painkiller and relaxant.  A small dose 
would keep Baird comfortable and asleep while she had him moved to 
sickbay.  She didn't notice that Dillon had reversed direction and 
was dancing back toward her.
	"What a pretty face!  What a pretty smile!  What a pretty 
me!"  Dillon kicked her causing her to fall on the hypo.  It 
hissed loudly emptying its contents into the doctor.  The 
equivalent of ten doses coursed through her bloodstream.  She 
stood up in a drugged haze and started dancing after Dillon.  She 
hadn't gotten very far when she smacked into a wall and fell to 
the floor unconscious.  Dillon changed direction again and danced 
past Singer and Baird's bodies.

	"Oh my God.  Oh my God.  Oh my God."

	"I'm as corny as Kansas in August.  High as a flag on the 
Fourth of July."

	"Oh my God.  Oh my God.  Oh my God."

	"If you'll excuse an expression I use, I'm..."

	"...my God.  Oh my God."  Rydell rounded the corner and 
smashed into Commander Dillon.
	"Captain..."
	"Commander..."
	"I've got something to tell you," they said in unison.
	"I'm getting investigated by Starfleet Command," Rydell said 
glumly.
	"I'm getting my own ship from Starfleet Command," Dillon 
exclaimed happily.  Captain Alexander Rydell punched out his first 
officer.





Chapter Three

	"Captain's Log, Stardate 49830.6.  As per orders, the 
Secondprize is headed back to Earth.  I can do nothing but watch 
helplessly as life as I know it crumbles around me.  I'm under 
investigation, a riot broke out for no apparent reason, my chief 
engineer and chief medical officer are sleeping together in the  
halls, and somebody made Dillon a captain.  If these aren't signs 
of the apocalypse, I don't know what is."

	Commander Dillon was admiring the fourth pip on his collar 
for the seventh time.  He hadn't officially been promoted yet, but 
he just liked the way the pip signifying the rank of captain 
looked on him.  Captain Travis Michael Dillon had a real nice ring to 
it.  His door chime sounded, breaking his musings and scaring him 
to death.  This was a very odd occurrence.  No one ever came to 
visit him.  Dillon figured that the crew was just so much in awe 
of his rank that they were scared.  The crew was scared all right; 
they were scared of actually having a conversation with him.
	"Come in," Dillon ordered.  The doors whooshed open revealing 
Captain Rydell.  "Captain, what are you doing here?" Dillon asked 
surprised.  Rydell walked over to a chair and collapsed into it.
	"Travis, it's about time I gave you the speech my last captain 
gave me when I was promoted.  You're a captain now.  Do you know 
what that means?" Rydell asked earnestly.
	"Yes," Dillon replied maniacally, "Power within my grasp!"
	"No, you moron, you now have enormous responsibilities that 
you can't even imagine and..."
	"You get lots of babes."
	"Well, there is that, but it's secondary."
	"I want babes!"
	"Travis, you are about to be in control of the fates of several 
hundred people."
	"Yeah, I know," Dillon replied enjoying his power trip.
	"Never mind," Rydell said in disgust as he stood up.  "Just 
be in sickbay in three hours."
	"Sickbay?  Why?"
	"Well, if you would have let me talk, you would have found 
out.  Have a nice wait, Travis," Rydell said menacingly as he left. 
 Dillon sat down on the couch and started worrying.

	Seven Backward was crowded.  With the Secondprize returning 
to spacedock, most of the crew had nothing to do.  There were no 
missions to carry out, and the ship could practically fly itself. 
 In the absence of work, the crew dove into their favorite 
activity: gossip.  Rumors about Rydell's investigation and 
Dillon's promotion were flying fast and furious.  Speculation ran 
from it all being a mistake to Rydell being executed and Dillon 
being given command of the Secondprize.  The consensus among the 
crew was if that happened, they'd transfer or mutiny.
	Lieutenants Lisa Beck and Emily Sullivan were seated at the 
bar talking with Trinian, Seven Backward's hostess when Lieutenant 
Commander Jaroch entered.  He walked straight to a small table in the 
corner and stared out the window.
	"As social as ever," Trinian commented.
	"He likes his privacy," Beck replied.  "I personally don't 
blame him.  I heard Dillon is taking a couple of people with him 
when he gets his new ship.  Jaroch's probably going to be one of them. 
 If I were him, I'd be depressed as hell too.  I wouldn't want to 
be under his command anymore than I already am."
	"Yeah," Emily agreed distractedly.
	"Problem, Emily?" Trinian asked even though she already knew 
the answer.
	"I'm worried about Scott."
	"He just got a minor concussion," Trinian said soothingly.  
"He'll be fine in a few days."
	"Minor concussion!" Sullivan screamed.  "He's got complete 
amnesia.  He doesn't even know who he is, much less me."  As if on 
cue, the Seven Backward doors opened revealing the chief engineer. 
 He stared around the room blankly not recognizing anything.
	"I wonder why he's wandering by himself," Beck said.  
Suddenly, Counselor Claire Webber bounded in behind Scott.  "Oh, 
he's not alone."  Webber led Scott over to the bar.
	"Hi, everyone," Claire said happily.  "Having a good day?"
	"Yee hah," Emily commented unenthusiastically.
	"Look what I taught Scott," Claire continued unfazed by the 
less than thrilled response.  "Hug, Scott!"  Smiling like a child, 
Scott locked the counselor in a huge bear hug.
	"How did you do that?" Emily demanded astonished.  "He never 
does stuff like that."
	"Well, in his current state, his mind is very trainable," 
Claire explained.  "Of course, it will all be erased when he gets 
his memory back, but for now..."
	"He'll do anything you say," Emily finished.
	"Not exactly, but his behavior is easily modifiable," Claire 
said.  Beck and Trinian noticed the evil grin spreading across 
Emily's face.
	"Emily, I think you should stop thinking what you're 
thinking," Trinian said.
	"But it won't last," Emily replied.  "And I'll finally get 
him to act the way I want him to act."
	"This could be funny," Beck said.  "I'm in."
	"Thanks, Lisa.  Claire, do you want to help?"
	"Emily, you can't interfere with his psychological well-
being," Claire insisted.
	"You said it will wear off when he gets his memory back."
	"Yeah, but..."
	"And you did make him hug you," Beck added.
	"O.K.  You got me.  I'll help."
	"Great, let's take him back to my quarters," Emily said 
jumping up from the barstool.  She, Beck, and Webber led an 
unsuspecting Scott Baird out of Seven Backward.  Trinian bowed her 
head in silent prayer for the boy and got back to work.
	Seconds later, Captain Rydell walked into the lounge and sat 
down at the bar.  He was looking a bit out of sorts.  Trinian 
walked over to offer support to her old friend.
	"Dillon's an idiot!" Rydell shouted as she approached.
	"Hello to you too," Trinian replied serenely.  "Did Dillon do 
something wrong?"  Rydell laughed.
	"I'll let you know when he does something right"  Rydell let out an exasperated sigh.  Maybe I'm 
just being too hard on him.  Travis is a competent officer at times.  It's 
just..."
	"He's going to be a captain."
	"Yes, he's not going to have anyone to take over when he 
screws up.  He'll be alone."
	"He'll be out there while you're not," Trinian said knowingly. 
 "Face it, Alex.  You're scared about this investigation and 
jealous that Dillon will have a ship while you don't."
	"Ouch," Rydell replied.  "You could have been a little bit 
nicer about it than that."
	"Why?  I get sick of comforting people all the time.  A dose 
of reality shakes people up, and I get a kick out of watching them 
squirm.  If you want comfort, go to Counselor Webber."
	"Thanks.  I appreciate it.   I can either get hugged to death 
by Claire or insulted by you.  I wonder if the Borg have a 
counseling service.  They'd probably be friendlier."  Suddenly, 
doors opened and Scott Baird ran in.  He charged Captain Rydell and 
slammed him against the bar in a bearhug.  Lieutenant Sullivan and 
Counselor Webber ran in after him and dragged Scott out of the 
room.
	"Bye bye," Scott said as he left.
	"Do I even want to know?" Rydell asked Trinian as he picked 
himself up and caught his breath.
	"Probably not," Trinian replied.  Lieutenant Commander Jaroch got 
up from his table and walked over to the bar.
	"May I speak with you, Captain?" Jaroch asked.
	"Sure.  Have a seat," Rydell said.  Jaroch sat down and gave 
Trinian a look which said "please leave."  Well, it was either that 
or "I'm extremely constipated.  Please help me."  Trinian backed 
away.
	"I've come to offer my services," Jaroch said.
	"What?" Rydell asked confused.
	"I will defend you at your hearing."
	"You have legal experience?" Rydell asked in shock.  A vision 
of Jaroch changing into J'Ter and killing everyone in the courtroom 
flashed through Rydell's mind.  Having a man who is taken over at 
inopportune times by the spirit of a dead warrior for his lawyer 
did not sound like a good idea to Rydell.
	"I was in law school for several years on Yyns before I 
decided to become a scientist.  I was at the top of my class until 
J'Ter interrupted graduation."
	"You realize that my career is on the line here, Jaroch.  Are you 
sure you can do it?"
	"Easily," Jaroch replied.
	"And without a body count?"
	"I'll do my best, sir."
	"O.K.  You're hired," Rydell said.  He had a feeling he was 
going to regret this, but at least if he lost, he'd take a few 
admirals with him.

	Dillon walked into Sickbay cautiously.  He had gone through 
every possible thing that this could be about, so he was ready for 
anything.  Captain Rydell was standing by a bio-bed with Dr. 
Singer.
	"Come here, Dillon," Rydell said smiling.
	"What's this about?" Dillon asked.
	"Well, all Starfleet captains are fitted with this," Singer 
explained as she held up a device about the size of a fingernail.
	"What is it?"
	"The answer to your wish, Travis," Rydell said.  "It's a mate 
magnet."
	"A what?"
	"A mate magnet.  It makes you irresistible to members of the 
opposite sex," Singer said.
	"So this is how you get all those women," Dillon said.
	"No.  I just use my natural charm and good looks, but 
Starfleet issues these to all captains just in case they need a 
little extra help.  Dr. Singer will be installing it in a 
minute.  Just lie down.  She'll be right back."  Rydell dragged 
Singer over to the other side of Sickbay.
	"This should only take a few minutes," Singer said.
	"Good, just make sure you don't use very much anesthetic.
	"Why?"
	"I want Travis to learn the proper respect for that thing.  I 
can't think of a better way."
	"Whatever you say, Captain."  Singer walked off to see to 
her patient.  Rydell left Sickbay smiling.  He would sure hate to 
be Dillon right now.  Operations in those tender areas can be 
quite painful.




Chapter Four

	"Contact spacedock control and tell them were ready for final 
approach," Captain Rydell ordered.  He shifted uncomfortably in 
his command chair.  The moment he'd been dreading for the last two 
days was almost here.
	"Message sent, Captain," Beck said.  The turbolift doors 
whooshed open and Commander Dillon waddled slowly onto the bridge. 
 He sat down gingerly in his chair to the captain's right.  
Captain Rydell suppressed a smirk.  The swelling would go down in 
a few days.  Hopefully, before Dillon took command of his new 
ship.  But in the meantime, those ice packs must be really 
uncomfortable.
	"Take us in, Ensign," Rydell said.  Ensign Larkin 
steered the great starship toward the huge spacedock doors.  The 
doors opened slowly revealing the massive starship docking 
facility.
	"Spacedock control is ready to lock on tractor beams," Beck 
reported.
	"Stop engines."  The ship rocked slightly as multiple tractor 
beams grabbed onto the Secondprize and pulled it into the hangar. 
 They passed several other ships including the Enterprise.  Rydell 
shuddered inside.  That meant Will Riker was here.  This was not 
going to be pretty.
	"Commander Dillon, there's a private communique coming in for 
you," Beck said.
	"Patch it through to my quarters, Lieutenant," Dillon said.  
He slowly stood up and headed shuffled toward the turbolift.
	"There's a message coming in for you too, sir."
	"On screen," Rydell said as he stood up.  Admiral Picard's 
face appeared on the screen.
	"Captain Rydell, welcome back."
	"Excuse me if I'm not too thrilled to be here, sir," Rydell 
replied.
	"Well, hopefully this won't take too long.  Your crew will 
have shore leave for the duration of your stay."  Cheers erupted 
across the bridge.  Rydell glared at them.  He had the strange 
feeling he'd just lost their sympathy.  "Come to my office as soon 
as docking maneuvers are complete."

	"Oh wow!  It's mine, all mine!" Dillon screamed as he hobbled 
happily around his quarters.
	"Travis," Matt Dillon said, "Calm down.  It's not as big as the 
Secondprize."
	"I don't care.  It's mine!"
	"And you're only on patrol and supply duty."
	"Mine!  Mine!  Mine!"
	"I see you don't really care, do you?" Matt's image said.  He 
was starting to wonder if this was a big mistake.
	"It's ALL mine!"
	"I'll take that as a 'no'.  Come over to my office when you 
dock.  We'll discuss the details then."
	"Mine!" Dillon shouted as he turned off the viewscreen.

	"Docking maneuvers complete, sir.  Moorings have been 
secured," Larkin said.
	"Spacedock control says we can commence disembarking 
immediately," Beck reported from the communications console.
	"All right, folks.  This is it," Rydell said as he looked 
around the bridge.  "I don't know if I'll be back, but if I'm not, 
I just want all of you to know that this has been the most... 
interesting command a captain could ask for.  Have a good shore 
leave.  Dismissed."  In a three second flurry of motion and 
cheers, the bridge cleared.  Rydell took a last look at his bridge 
and walked to the turbolift.
	The lift stopped at deck seven and Commander Dillon got in.  
The two men stood in an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds as 
the turbolift resumed it's course.
	"I guess this is it, Number One," Rydell said finally.
	"Yes, sir.  I guess so," Dillon replied.  He searched 
desperately for something else to say.  "Looking forward to the 
trial?"  That wasn't it.  Rydell looked at him strangely.
	"Please tell me you're kidding."
	"Uh... yeah.  It was a joke.  Good luck, Captain.  I'm sure 
Jaroch will do a good job."
	"I hope so."  The turbolift opened and Rydell and Dillon 
walked down the hall toward the docking hatch.  "Good luck with 
your first command.  It will be an experience that will stick with 
you all of your life."
	"I guess so if that operation is any indication.  I don't 
ever want to have to go through anything like that again.  It felt 
like Dr. Singer didn't use any anesthetic at all.  Ramming 
something that big up a hole that small really hurts."
	"I imagine so."
	"What do you mean?  You had the operation too," Dillon said 
confused.
	"Right," Rydell replied barely controlling his laughter.  
They had reached the hall to Admiral Picard's office.  "Goodbye, 
Dillon."  He ran off down the hall just in case Dillon figured 
things out.  The mate magnet was real Starfleet issue, but the 
installation wasn't exactly up to regulations.

	Down in sickbay, Dr. Singer collapsed to the floor.  The 
full effects of that overdose of pain killer she'd gotten were 
just starting to kick in.  The drugs had lain dormant in her 
system for a while, but now they hit stronger than ever.  The last 
nurse to leave didn't notice the doctor on the floor.  She turned 
off the lights and left.  On the other side of the room, Dr. 
Singer was having an attitude adjustment.

	"What are we going to do with him now?" Claire asked.  She, 
Emily, Lisa, and Scott were seated in the spacedock lounge.  
Scott was staring out the window at the docked starships and 
babbling something about toys.  "I don't even live on Earth, and 
Rigel is a bit far away."
	"I don't think that my apartment would be such a good idea 
either," Emily added.  The idea of Scott accidentally getting 
loose in San Francisco wasn't very appealing.
	"My family has a beach house on a small island off the coast 
of North Carolina," Lisa said.  "There's only the house and some 
woods, but at least Scott couldn't go far."  She glanced at the 
chief engineer.  He wasn't there.  "Where's Scott?" she demanded 
in a panic.  They saw him climbing on top of a table across the 
room.
	"A B C D E F G," Scott sang at the top of his lungs.  "H I J 
K L M N O P."
	"Well, at least he remembers the alphabet," Claire said.  
"That makes the chances of him recovering fully pretty high."
	"Q R S T U V W X Y and Z.  Now I know my ABC's.  Next time 
won't you sing with me."  Scott took a bow.  A table of Dinnaxins 
in the corner started applauding wildly.  They were astounded that 
this earthling knew the words to the classic Dinnaxinian opera Ses 
a me Stre et.
	"Let's get him out of here before somebody figures out 
something's wrong," Emily said.  They retrieved Scott and headed 
to the spacedock transporter room.

	Trinian straightened the last of the tables in Seven Backward 
and sat down in a chair to relax.  The view of the interior of 
spacedock was quite impressive.  The Secondprize was eerily quiet. 
 No engine noise, no footsteps, and no voices.  She thought that 
she must be the last person left on the ship.  It was a strange 
feeling.  Trinian yawned and stretched.  A little shore leave would 
be good.  She hadn't been to Europe in decades.  Gradually, she 
drifted off to sleep.
	
	"You do understand why we're doing this investigation, 
Captain Rydell?" Admiral Picard asked from behind his desk.  
Rydell was seated uncomfortably across from him.
	"Not really, sir.  My report was reviewed by Admiral Wagner, 
and I assumed that everything was all right," Rydell replied.
	"To tell you the truth, Rydell, I agree with Admiral Wagner's 
assessment, but the Rusai Ambassador doesn't see it our way.  He 
demanded this investigation."
	"Oh great."  Rydell knew the Rusai's reputation for following 
rules.  They were even more uptight than Dillon at his worst.  
This was not going to be pleasant.
	"The hearing will be presided over by Admiral Thomas Wagner, Admiral 
Karen Richards, and myself."
	"Richards!" Rydell shouted.  "You might as well just kill me 
now before Richards does it for you."  This was just great.  The 
last time he saw Karen Richards, she said she would like nothing 
better than to see him dead.  The two had dated for almost six 
months while Rydell was lieutenant stationed at Starfleet 
Headquarters, but things had ended badly.  Rydell wanted to see 
other people; Karen didn't.  She wasn't pleased, and Rydell got 
himself assigned to the first available starship.
	"I'm sure that Admiral Richards will be perfectly objective 
in her treatment of this case.  You have nothing to worry about.  
Oh yes, the Rusai have selected the prosecuting attorney."
	"What?  Did they find a way to bring Hitler back and give him 
a law degree?"
	"Rydell, you're overreacting."
	"I'm sorry, sir," Rydell replied.  "I just don't enjoy having 
my career on the line like this."
	"Understandable.  The Rusai have selected an officer I have 
complete faith in: Captain William Riker."  Rydell slammed his 
head down on Picard's desk.  He was dead meat.

	"So how are you doing, Travis," Admiral Matt Dillon asked.
	"Fine.  Which ship's mine?" Travis replied.  So much for small 
talk.  Maybe a different approach.
	"What do you think of Captain Rydell?"
	"He's a great guy.  When do I get my ship?"  Travis said.  
Evidently he had a one track mind at the moment.
	"We've given you the Edsel," Matt explained.  "She's been 
undergoing a major refit for the last year.  You can take her out 
in two days.  We'll have the official ceremony then.  Oh, you need 
to get a first officer and a security chief.  I've talked to 
Admiral Picard, and he said you can have your choice of anyone on 
the Secondprize."
	"Thanks, Uncle Matt," Travis said happily as he got up to 
leave.  "I'll see you in a couple of days."  Travis half-walked, 
half-waddled out of the office.
	Travis danced down the spacedock halls elated.  He finally knew 
which ship was his.  He'd seen the paperwork.  It was official.  
In two days, he would be Captain Travis Michael Dillon of the Starship 
Edsel.  Travis rounded and ran into a cart pushed by an ensign.  The 
corner of the cart rammed right into where he'd just been operated 
on.  Dillon's scream shook the spacedock.




Chapter Five

	"Wow!  This place is huge," Emily Sullivan exclaimed as she 
walked around the outside of the Becks' beach house.  The house 
was bordered on three sides by forest with the beach out the back.
	"Trees!" Scott shouted gleefully and darted off toward the 
woods.  Claire and Emily ran after him while Lisa entered her 
access code to get into the house.
	"Come on, Scott," Claire said.  "We've got lots of toys 
inside."
	"Cool."  He ran into the house knocking Lisa to the ground in 
the process.
	"I'm starting to really wish he'd get his memory back," Lisa 
muttered as she picked herself up.
	"But we haven't done anything with him yet," Emily 
protested.  "I don't want the old Scott back until I can at least 
get a glimpse of the new, improved Scott.
	"If he breaks anything, he's going to lose a lot more than 
his memory."
	"Don't worry about it, Lisa.  We'll keep him in line."  The 
three women walked into the house to start the retraining process.

	Dr. Rebecca Singer awoke with a start.  She quickly jumped up 
and surveyed her surroundings.  She was still in Sickbay, good.  
She knew what she had to do.  It was time to begin the process of 
claiming what was rightfully hers.  Singer walked out into the 
hall and touched a computer access panel.
	"Computer, how many Starfleet personnel are left on the 
Secondprize," she said.  Her voice was deeper and more distant.
	"No Starfleet personnel are on board except for you, Dr. 
Singer," the computer replied unemotionally.  Singer was 
overcome with a flash of rage.
	"I am not Dr. Singer!  I am JAMES T. KIRK!" Singer 
screamed.
	"Whatever you say, Dr. Singer," the computer said.  It's 
logic circuits were having a hard time with this one.  Singer 
slammed her fists against the panel over and over.
	"I am James T. Kirk!  I am James T. Kirk!  I am James T. 
Kirk!"
	"O.K.  O.K." the computer said.  It didn't know why Dr. 
Singer was acting this way, but it did understand that she was 
about to break some of its circuitry.  "You can be James T. Kirk 
if you want."
	"That's Captain Kirk to you," Singer demanded.
	"Fine, Captain Kirk."
	"That's better.  Now page the two people nearest the 
Secondprize and have them come on board.  I'll meet them at the 
docking hatch."  Singer headed back to Sickbay.  The computer 
did as it was told.  It definitely didn't want this psycho mad at 
it.  In Sickbay, Singer filled two hyposprays and left for the 
docking hatch.  She was about to get her first two followers.

	"I'm dead.  I'm dead.  I'm dead," Captain Rydell repeated 
over and over as he banged his head down on his desk.  He and 
Lieutenant Commander Jaroch had been given quarters in spacedock for 
the duration of the hearing.  That was just one more little 
annoyance.  Rydell would have preferred that the trial take place 
at Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco, but that was not to 
be.  He was stuck on the spacedock without even the comfort of 
actually being on Earth.
	"It is not that bad, sir," Jaroch said.  Rydell stopped his head 
banging and looked up at the Secondprize science officer.
	"What's not so bad about it, Jaroch?" Rydell demanded.
	"Well, at least the Federation doesn't have the death 
penalty."
	"You're a big help, Jaroch."
	"I try.  Now, we have to plan your defense.  O.K.  You are 
charged with violating the Prime Directive because you transformed 
every Joegonot on Ugilious into a human."
	"Well, that is what happened."
	"Then what is the problem?  Just plead guilty," Jaroch suggested.
	"Jaroch, the idea is not to get me sent to a rehabilitation 
colony for the rest of my life," Rydell replied trying to control 
his temper.  "The idea is to save my career."
	"Oh.  Of course.  Then we'll say that you... did a service to 
humanity."
	"How are you going to do that?  Sure, no one liked the 
Joegonots, but that doesn't excuse wiping them out of existence.  
I'm screwed."
	"I find your negative attitude very annoying, sir.  I'm 
trying to save you."
	"Good luck."
	"I have one more idea."
	"What?" Rydell asked hopefully.
	"Kill Captain Riker and destroy all the evidence," Jaroch 
replied.
	"Nice thought, but I don't think so."
	"I had to try, sir."
	"I know."

	"Now, Scott, there are some words that you cannot say," 
Emily explained to Scott as they sat in the living room of the 
beach house.
	"Why?" he asked innocently.
	"Because they're bad words, and we wouldn't like it if you 
said them."
	"Why?"
	"Because they offend us."
	"Why?"
	"Because they do, all right!" Lisa shouted.  She was really 
getting fed up with this.  Scott looked at her sheepishly.
	"Why?" he asked.
	"That's it!" Lisa screamed as she dove at Scott.  "I'm going 
to kill him!"  Claire and Emily jumped up and dragged Lisa out of 
the room.
	"Look," Emily said.  "We have to put up with this until we 
get him trained, O.K.?"
	"O.K." Lisa mumbled grudgingly.
	"Good, now let's do the flash cards with him."  Emily, Lisa, 
and Claire went back into the living room.  
	"As we said, Scott, there are some words that you had better 
not say or I'll rip out your liver and stuff it back down your 
throat," Lisa said in her best elementary school teacher voice.  
"Now pay attention!"  Lisa held up a set of cards with words on 
them.
	"The first word is 'damn,'" Lisa said.  She held up the next 
card.  "The second word is 'sh**.'"
	"Do you think this will work?" Emily asked Claire.
	"It should.  His mind is not in a condition to refuse what 
it's told," the counselor replied.
	"Great!  A Scott that doesn't cuss.  Unbelievable!"
	"The fifth word is 'f***,'" Lisa continued.

	"Do you have any idea what this is about," Ensign Tim 
Olsen asked as he and Ensign Kathy Parker approached the 
Secondprize.
	"Not a clue," Parker replied.  "I was just told to report to 
the Secondprize.  They walked down the service hall attaching the 
starship to spacedock and entered the ship.  Suddenly, they were 
each jabbed with a hypospray.  It's contents spilled into their 
bloodstreams and they collapsed to the deck.  Dr. Singer laughed 
maniacally.  Everything was going according to plan.  The first of 
her flock had arrived.  She pulled the bodies into the closest 
room and ran back to Sickbay to refill her hypos.

	Commander 'Soon to be Captain' Travis Dillon rubbed his eyes 
tiredly.  He'd been going over the Secondprize's personnel files 
for the last three hours, but he'd found his people.  Dillon stood 
up and walked over to the computer access terminal in his 
spacedock quarters.
	"Computer, where are Lieutenants Patricia Hawkins and Sean 
Russell?"
	"Lieutenant Hawkins is in Holodeck Seventeen.  Lieutenant 
Russell has left spacedock."
	"Where the hell is he?"
	"Malibu, Commander," the computer replied.  Dillon would just 
have to go get him, but first, he'd go get Hawkins.

	Trinian slowly drifted awake and realized that she was sitting 
up.  She looked around Seven Backward.  The place was still 
deserted, and the ship had switched to night lighting.
	"Computer, what time is it?" she asked groggily.
	"It is 21:30 hours."
	"I was asleep for six hours."
	"I guess so.  I can only keep track of so much.  You were not 
exactly foremost on my mind," the computer replied.
	"Why not?"
	"You aren't official Starfleet personnel.  They are my 
primary concern."
	"Thanks a lot."  Trinian stood up and walked over to the 
replicator.  She made herself a drink and sat back down at the 
table.  The quiet was very relaxing.  There was nowhere for her 
to go so she'd just hang out on the ship for a while.

	Commander Travis Dillon stood outside of Holodeck Seventeen and 
looked at the computer monitor.  The holodeck was running a 
special program that Patricia had designed.  Beyond that, he couldn't 
tell anything.  Oh well, he'd just have to go in.  Dillon stepped 
up to the holodeck door which slowly opened revealing a steamy 
jungle.  He walked inside and wiped away the sweat that was 
already forming on his brow.  Suddenly, Hawkins, dressed all in 
camouflage and carrying an M-16, ran past him.  She was being 
chased by a tribe of natives.  They all wore loincloths, but their 
faces were painted like clowns and they were carrying pies.
	"What the hell is this?" Dillon shouted.
	"Aversion therapy!" Hawkins replied as she kept running.  
"You'd better get out of the way!"
	"Why?"  The natives let out a war cry that sounded like the 
horn on a Model-T.  A pie smacked Dillon in the side of the head. 
 He started running.  Hawkins was scrambling up a tree.  Dillon 
followed her up.
	"You okay, sir?" Hawkins asked.  She blasted a few clowns 
with her machine guns.
	"Yeah, I'm fine."  The absurdity of the whole situation 
suddenly struck him.  "Why are you fighting clowns?"
	"I had a bad experience with them during the Joegonot 
incident.  When Larkin sabotaged the ship, I was trapped in the 
holodeck with a bunch of them that kept attacking me with pies.  
I've been scared to death of them ever since.  I'm using this to 
try and get over it."  She killed a few more.  The clowns 
surrounded the tree and let out another cry.  From out of nowhere, 
a small car drove up to the tree.  Fifty more clowns climbed out 
of it.  "They've got reinforcements!"
	"I need to talk to you."
	"Not now!  Can't you see we're in trouble?"
	"I want you to be my first officer."
	"What?"
	"I want you to come with me to the Edsel.  You'll be promoted 
to commander," Dillon explained.  Hawkins emptied another clip of 
bullets into the clown tribe.
	"You're kidding, right?" Hawkins asked as she reloaded.  A 
promotion would be great, but she wasn't sure that she wanted to 
deal with Dillon that much.
	"Computer, give me two uzis and twenty clips," Dillon 
ordered.  He was getting sick of these clowns.  The computer 
complied.  He loaded his guns and started shooting.  The clowns 
were soon either dead or retreating back into the jungle.
	"I need your decision, Lieutenant," Travis said.
	"How'd you know how to do that?"
	"What?"
	"The guns.  Not many people can use guns that fire bullets 
anymore.  They can only use phasers."
	"Oh, I watch a lot of old movies," Dillon said confused at 
Hawkins's reaction.
	"I'll take the position, sir," Hawkins said.  The promotion 
would be really good for her career.  Dillon wouldn't be that bad. 
 If anything, they could go shooting together.  That might at 
least make him tolerable.

	Dr. Rebecca Singer stood in front of her twenty loyal followers 
prepared to lead them on their great quest.  They would obey her 
every command.  The drugs had helped, but no one could resist the 
will of James T. Kirk.
	"The Secondprize is ours," Singer shouted.
	"Yea, Captain Kirk!  Yea, Captain Kirk!" the crowd chanted.
	"This is only the first step.  Soon, all of the galaxy will 
be under my command."
	"Yea, Captain Kirk!  Yea, Captain Kirk!"
	"And James T. Kirk will be the most powerful person in the 
universe!"  Singer raised her fists into the air and laughed.  
She was Starfleet's greatest captain, and no one could stand in 
her way.





Chapter Six

	Lieutenant Sean Russell was having the vacation of his life. 
 Everything was going right.  The weather was perfect, the waves 
were great, and there were girls everywhere.  Sean was in 
paradise.
	"Do you want another drink, Sean," Darla asked from beside 
him.
	"That'd be great, gorgeous," Sean replied.  He'd only met 
Darla three hours ago, but they'd gotten along fantastically.  She 
was a perfect as the day.  Sean was content to stay there for the 
rest of his life.  Suddenly, he heard a familiar hum and a muffled 
shout.  He turned around and saw a pair of black boots sticking 
out of a sand dune about fifty yards behind him.  The sand 
shifted, and Commander Travis Dillon crawled out.  Dillon slapped 
his commbadge angrily.
	"Dillon to spacedock transporter control.  That wasn't very 
damn funny!  Your career is history, pal!  I'm a captain!  You 
can't do that to me and get away with it!"  Peals of laughter were 
the only response Dillon got.  He brushed himself off as much as 
possible and walked over to Russell.
	"Hello, Commander," Russell said warily.  He wanted to know 
why the hell Dillon was here.  What was so important that Dillon 
came here personally instead of contacting him on his 
communicator.
	"Lieutenant Russell, pack your things.  We're leaving."
	"What?  I'm on shore leave!" Russell insisted angrily.
	"Consider it canceled.  I'm making you my security chief," 
Dillon said.
	"What?"  This was getting really weird.
	"Listen carefully.  Me captain.  You security chief.  We go 
to ship.  Understand."
	"Yeah, yeah.  All right."  Russell stood up and put his gear 
together.  This day had abruptly stopped being perfect.  He saw 
Darla walking back with his drink.
	"What's going on?" she asked.
	"I've got to go, dear.  My ship's waiting."  Suddenly, an 
idea struck him.  "Do you want to go?" he asked hopefully.  Darla 
pushed her bleach blond hair back and contorted her face in deep 
thought.
	"O.K.," she said two seconds later.
	"Fine," Dillon said.  He slapped his commbadge.  "Dillon to 
spacedock.  Three to beam up."
	"Where are we going again?" Darla asked just as they 
dematerialized.
	
	"Now, Scott, cooking is a very important skill to learn.  If 
you can cook, you will make all of us very happy," Claire said as 
she tied the apron around Scott's waist.  "You want to make us 
happy, don't you?"
	"Yeah!  Yeah!" Scott exclaimed.
	"Good boy.  I knew you would.  The first lesson is the 
stove."  Claire leaned down and switched on the appliance.  Nothing 
happened.  "Lisa, your stove's broken," she yelled.
	"Great," Lisa replied from the next room.
	"I fix!  I fix!" Scott said.  Somewhere down in his mind, a 
memory stirred.  Nothing much, but Scott Baird was on the road back 
to his normal self.

	Captain Rydell sat in the spacedock lounge nursing a drink 
and gazing at his ship.  He couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever 
get her back.  Rydell scolded himself for being so pessimistic.  
He hadn't lost the Secondprize yet.  Jaroch would find a way out of 
this.  He may have to kill the entire admiralty, but he would find 
a way.  	
"Mind if I sit down," a voice said from behind him.  
Rydell turned to face the newcomer.
	"I guess I can't stop you," Rydell replied dejectedly as he 
turned back to the window.  Captain William Riker sat down and 
followed Rydell's gaze to the Secondprize.
	"You're going to miss her, aren't you?" Riker asked.  Rydell 
detected a bit of smugness in his voice.  Actually, he detected a 
lot of it.
	"I haven't lost yet.  I will get my ship back."
	"Right, Alex.  Not many people manage to salvage their 
careers after being accused of violating the prime directive."
	"Will, did you just come here to gloat, or do you have 
something to talk to me about?" Rydell demanded irritatedly.
	"I mainly wanted to gloat, but I did want to discuss a deal."
	"A deal?  What kind of deal?"
	"If you plead guilty, I'll see to it that you're only bumped 
down to ensign.  I'll even try to get you posted on the 
Enterprise," Riker replied.  Rydell saw the twinkle in Riker's 
eyes.  He wished he had a fork so he could put it out.
	"You'd love that, wouldn't you, Will?  Having me under your 
command.  I don't think so.  I'd rather be thrown to the 
Cardassians."
	"I'll see what I can do.  We're out that way quite a bit."
	"You're trying to get me to punch you out, aren't you?" 
Rydell asked through gritted teeth.
	"It would make my case a lot easier to prove.  Assaulting an 
officer is good sign of disrespect for rules and authority."
	"You're even more of an asshole than you were at the academy, 
Will.  I didn't think that was possible."
	"I always try to be the best."
	"You still sore about that little joke I pulled on you?" 
Rydell asked smiling.  It was time to let Riker feel uncomfortable 
for a change.  Riker laughed weakly.
	"No, it was a joke.  We were young and stupid."  He wasn't 
very convincing.
	"The fact is that you hated me then, and you still hate me to 
this day.  You were a pompous jerk, and it really pissed you off 
that I not only beat you in every class but made you look like an 
idiot around the other cadets.  You were jealous, Riker," Rydell 
said.  Riker slammed his fist on the table angrily.
	"I'm going to destroy you, Rydell!  This isn't about stupid 
pranks at the academy!  This is about you spending the rest of 
your life in a rehabilitation colony!  It's going to happen, 
Alex.  You don't have a chance."  He stood up and stormed off.
	"We'll see," Rydell said softly.  He heard more footsteps 
behind him.  Before he could turn around, a hand grabbed him by 
the hair and slammed his head into the table twenty times.
	"That's for dumping me," Karen Richards shouted as she 
slammed Rydell's head down one last time and charged out of the 
lounge.
	"Check please," Rydell muttered before he lost consciousness.

	On the Secondprize, Dr. Singer and her followers had just 
gotten into the armory.  They grabbed every phaser and phaser 
rifle they could get their hands on.
	"Spread out around the ship," Singer ordered.  "Once the 
Secondprize has been secured, we'll begin the next phase."
	"Yea, Captain Kirk!  Yea, Captain Kirk!"

	Trinian was enjoying her solitude in Seven Backward.  She had 
replicated herself a huge meal and was sitting back to enjoy it 
and the view.  Every once in a while, people just need to be 
someplace alone with no worries or problems.  Unfortunately, 
Trinian was not in one of those places.






Chapter Seven

	Dr. Reginald Smythe stood up and brushed the dirt off of his 
knees.  He pushed his hat back from his forehead with a smile of 
satisfaction.  His deductions had turned out to be correct.  The 
Firzuk had once been here.
	"Dr. Smythe, come here!" his assistant shouted excitedly.  
Smythe took a look at his discovery to make sure it was secure and 
then went over to Mr. Kellam.
	"What have you discovered, Chris?" Smythe asked.  Chris 
Kellam held up a small rectangular object covered in dirt.
	"It looks like a computer padd," Kellam replied handing the 
object to his professor.
	"Good," Smythe said as he examined the padd.  "I found a 
larger system a few yards away.  We must have found a Firzuk 
research station.  The logic is irrefutable."  Kellam groaned 
inwardly.  Smythe was about to start again.  "We first have the 
premise that the Firzuk were scientists.  As auxiliary premises we 
have the knowledge that the Firzuk lived in this sector, this 
technology is undeniable Firzuk, and there are too few structures 
here for this to be a home world.  Therefore, we may draw the 
conclusion that this is a Firzuk research station.  Do you follow 
my logic?"
	"Yes, Dr. Smythe," Kellam replied unenthusiastically.
	"Good.  It is vitally important as both scientists and 
philosophers of science that we understand the process leading to 
the discovery," Smythe continued.  Kellam really wished that this 
man wasn't in control of his grade.  When he signed up for the 
archaeology expedition to Gulax IV, he hadn't bargained on getting 
stuck with Dr. Smythe.  The man could spout pointless, 
unintelligible philosophical babble for hours.
	"I'll go check on the others," Kellam said making an excuse 
to get away.  He made a hasty retreat.  Dr. Smythe glanced around 
the area where Kellam had made his discovery.  Something was not 
quite right.  He crouched down and used his laser digger to clear 
away the dirt.  There was a hatch buried there.  Smythe pulled on 
it.  It wouldn't budge.  He took the next logical step.  Smythe 
stood up and jumped up and down on the hatch.  It gave and Smythe 
fell ten feet to the metal floor below.  By the light coming 
through from the hole above, Smythe could just make out what was in 
the chamber.
	"Mr. Kellam!" he shouted anxiously a minute later.  "Get over 
here!"
	"Are you O.K., Dr. Smythe?" Kellam asked as he peered down 
into the hole.
	"Don't worry about me.  Get back to camp and contact 
Starfleet.  We need a ship here now!"

	"Now this scene of the film demonstrates Verhoeven's ability 
to handle emotional scenes with sensitivity and caring.  Notice 
how Robocop saves the young human's life by obliterating the testicles 
of the criminal.  This symbolizes the struggle against infertility 
faced by many Earth males in the late twentieth century."
	"Captain Donask, we are intercepting a message to Starfleet," 
the voice of Commander Konoth announced over the ship's intercom 
system.  Donask threw down her laser pointer in disgust.  In an 
effort to teach Klingons about their Federation allies, Captain 
Donask had taken it upon herself to instruct her crew on the finer 
points of Federation entertainment.  Her film class had so far 
analyzed all of the Friday the Thirteenth films, every Rambo film, 
and she was starting on the Robocop series.
	"I do not care about Starfleet messages, Commander!" Donask 
shouted back angrily.  "We do not spy on our allies!"
	"This one is different, Captain," Konoth insisted.  Donask 
crushed the film projector violently and stormed toward the door.
	"I want a three thousand word paper analyzing the love 
imagery in Friday the Thirteenth Part Eight by tomorrow," she 
growled back to her class.  As she charged out of the room, 
several shouts of anger erupted behind her.  She smiled satisfied 
that she had succeeded in torturing her pupils for another day.  
"What is it?" Donask roared as she entered the bridge of the 
patrol cruiser Ko'jak.
	"Put the message on screen," Konoth ordered.  The 
communications officer complied rapidly.  The face of a young 
human appeared on the viewscreen.
	"Starfleet command, we need assistance immediately.  My name 
is Chris Kellam.  I'm a student on an archaeology expedition to 
Gulax Four with Dr. Reginald Smythe.  Dr. Smythe has found something 
incredible.  Send a starship immediately."  The message ended.
	"So what?" Donask demanded as she reached for her disrupter. 
 Konoth started to get nervous.
	"Captain, why would an archaeology expedition need Starfleet? 
 Do you not see that they must have found something extremely 
powerful?"
	"Are you implying that I am stupid, Konoth?" Donask bellowed.
	"No, Captain."
	"How fortunate for you," Donask repled.  She turned toward 
the navigator.  In one fluid motion, Donask whirled back around, 
drew her disrupter, and disintegrated Konoth.  "Too bad I do not 
believe you.  Gornok, where is Gulax Four?"
	"It is about three light years across the Federation border, 
Captain," the navigation officer replied.  Donask considered the 
situation.  Taking off at maximum warp would cause suspicion.  
Stealth was required.
	"Lay in a course.  Warp three," she ordered.  It would take 
longer to get there at only warp three, but she knew the 
Federation.  A request like that would get buried in bureaucracy. 
 She and her crew would arrive at Gulax IV days before the message 
was even noticed by a Starfleet admiral.  Then, if she found a 
weapon, Donask could claim it for the Klingon empire.  She would 
be a hero, and the empire could regain it's former glory.

	Unfortunately for Captain Donask, she did not know the 
Federation quite as well as she thought.  Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc 
Picard had a passion for archaeology and insisted that any find 
related to that field be directed immediately to him.
	"Admiral, Starfleet communications just sent over a message 
from Gulax IV," Picard's secretary announced over the intercom.  
Picard dropped the Earl Grey tea he was drinking on himself in 
surprise.
	"Arrrrgh!"
	"Could you repeat that, Admiral?"
	"I'm sorry," Picard gasped as the pain subsided.  "Patch it 
through to my viewer.  Picard watched Kellam's message with 
interest then alarm.  If they had found a Firzuk weapon, the 
results could be disastrous.  Picard had to do something, but he 
couldn't just divert a starship to Gulax IV.  With the Edsel in 
spacedock, the Klingon/Federation border was undermanned.  The 
Edsel!  That was the answer.  He could just send it to Gulax IV as 
its first assignment.  "Get me Admiral Wagner," Picard ordered.

	Trinian had finally had enough of sitting around alone.  
Solitude was nice for a while, but it was getting old real fast.  
Anyway, Captain Rydell was about to go through a Starfleet 
investigation.  She should be with him for support.  Trinian stood 
up and headed for the doors of Seven Backward.  She saw something 
moving outside just before she got to the point where the doors 
would open automatically.  As they came closer, Trinian saw two 
people carrying phaser rifles.  They had on Starfleet uniforms, 
but they were eighty years out of date.
	"Computer," she demanded.  "Who else is on the Secondprize?"
	"Captain James T. Kirk, Ensign Kathy Parker, Lieutenant..."
	"That's enough," Trinian snapped.  Captain Kirk?  This was 
weird.  She saw the two outside heading toward the doors of Seven 
Backward.  Trinian ducked behind the bar.  She didn't care if they 
were in Starfleet uniforms, something was not right about them.  
They had very blank expressions on their faces and they were 
carrying phaser rifles.  Hiding seemed like the best course of 
action to her.  The two men entered the lounge.
	"If she's Captain Kirk, can I be Mr. Spock," one asked the 
other.
	"I guess so.  I want to be Chekov then."
	"Chekov!  Why?  All he does is get hurt and scream."
	"But I scream really well."  He let out a blood-curdling 
screech.
	"Wow!  That was great!"
	"Thanks, Spock."
	"This is so cool."
	Trinian leaned back against the bar and tried to make sense of 
what she'd just heard.  She failed miserably.  These guys were 
completely out of their mind which probably meant that their 
leader was even worse.  This was not good.
 
	"The hearing starts tomorrow, Captain.  We have to go through 
this," Jaroch insisted.
	"Jaroch, we've been through it a hundred times already.  I know 
what happened.  I know what I did.  I know what I said.  I know 
what everyone else said.  I know the color of the Joegonot's 
carpet.  What the hell to you want from me?!" Rydell shouted.  He 
was exhausted.  If the hearing was a grueling as Jaroch's preparation 
sessions, Rydell didn't think he was going to make it.
	"Fine, we'll take a break."  Jaroch sat down and tried to relax. 
 He shifted in his chair.  Then again.
	"What is it, Jaroch?" Rydell asked finally.
	"I'm sorry, sir, but there's something I want to know."
	"What?"
	"What did you do to Captain Riker?"
	"It's a long story, Jaroch," Rydell replied as he leaned back on 
the sofa to make himself more comfortable.  This could take a 
while.





Chapter Eight

	"Rydell!  Rydell!  Rydell!" the crowd chanted as Cadet Alexander 
Rydell prepared for the next round of targets.  He was about to 
beat the class record on the Academy phaser range.
	"You call that shooting?" a voice asked.  Rydell ignored it 
for the moment and finished off the next round of targets.  The 
crowd cheered wildly as the last target exploded.  Rydell turned 
to face the crowd.
	"Yes, I call that shooting," Rydell said.
	"My weekend pass says you can't beat me," a voice said from 
the crowd.  A tall man walked up to the front and stepped onto the 
range.
	"You're a bit cocky, aren't you, pal?"
	"I can't be beat.  That's not cockiness; that's a fact." the 
cadet replied with a twinkle in his eye.  "William T. Riker."
	"Alexander Rydell," Rydell replied as he extended his hand.  Riker 
didn't take it.
	"I'm here to beat you, not make friends.  Let's go."  Riker 
grabbed a phaser off of the rack.  "Computer, set range to 
competition mode."  He stepped into position and aimed his phaser. 
 Rydell glanced at the crowd and shrugged.  This Riker guy was a 
real jerk.  The first volley of targets flew into the air.  Rydell 
blasted them all with ease.  Riker missed one and growled angrily.
	"Maybe you should have tried the Klingon academy," Rydell 
said.  "You've got the growl and the looks for it."  Riker glared 
at him.  The second volley flew up.  Again Rydell hit them all.  
Riker missed the last one by millimeters.  The crowd started to 
chant again.
	"Rydell!  Rydell!  Rydell!"
	"Shut up, you idiots!" Riker shouted.  In the third volley, 
both cadets hit all of the targets.  The fourth volley again ended 
in a tie.  The fifth and final volley was about to start.
	"Only one more to go, Riker," Rydell commented.
	"Yes," Riker said almost too happily.  He was up to 
something.  Rydell set himself for the final volley.  Riker made a 
sudden sideways jump knocking Rydell to the ground.  The volley 
flew up.  Rydell leveled his phaser and picked off the targets 
from the ground.  He shot Cadet Riker just for good measure.  The 
setting wasn't even high enough to stun him, but Riker would get a 
shock out of it.  Riker let out a cry and fell to the floor.  
Rydell picked himself up and glanced at the writhing Riker.
	"Best two out of three?" Rydell suggested smugly.  Riker 
kicked at him.  Rydell jumped back and walked off the platform.  
"Maybe some other time then."  Riker slowly stood up and limped 
away.  Rydell was met by the cheers and congratulations of his 
classmates.  Across the room, Riker was leaning against the wall 
glaring at him angrily.  His ego wouldn't take a defeat like this 
lightly.  Rydell had a feeling that he'd just made an enemy.  He 
sighed inwardly.  He'd been at the academy for five months already 
and had avoided pissing off anyone else thus far.  It was bound to 
happen at some point.

	"Cadet Rydell, report to the mess hall.  Cadet Rydell, report 
to the mess hall," the intercom blared.  Rydell opened his eyes 
and looked at the chronometer.  It was two-thirty in the morning. 
 Riker must be getting desperate.  He'd spoiled three of Riker's 
practical joke attempts in the last week.  That made seventeen in 
the month since he'd embarrassed Riker at the phaser range.  
Rydell jumped down out of the top bunk, threw on his uniform, and 
grabbed his tricorder.  He really wanted to know how Riker got 
access to the intercom system.  Rydell wandered out into the hall 
and toward the mess hall.  The building was silent.  As he 
approached the doors to the mess hall, Rydell scanned the room's 
interior.  Two people were just beyond the door and two more were 
across the room crouched behind tables.  Not a problem.  He ducked 
down the hall to the entrance to the small kitchen adjoining the 
mess hall.  Not many cadets used the kitchen since they could get 
almost anything they wanted from replicators, but it was there 
just in case someone had the urge to cook.  Rydell used it more 
than just about anyone.  He enjoyed making food for himself.  This 
time he'd would be making something just a bit different.
	"Where is he?" Will Riker demanded from his position behind 
the table.  "It's been fifteen minutes already."  Suddenly, the 
kitchen door opened and a cart rolled into the room.  A slightly 
steaming pot was on top of it.  "He's in the kitchen!  Let's get 
him."  Riker and the others jumped up and started moving toward 
the door.  The pot exploded violently sending scalding hot blue 
liquid spraying over all of them.  Rydell walked back to his 
quarters and went back to sleep.
	In class the next day, Rydell watched the door eagerly 
awaiting Riker's arrival.  Riker and his roommate entered a couple 
of minutes later.  Their faces and hands were an interesting 
mixing of red burns and blue stains.  Rydell smiled contentedly.  To 
make the day perfect, Rydell beat Riker by fourteen points on 
their tactics exam, and Riker was given an official rebuke for 
being out of his room after curfew and messing up the mess hall.
	After that, Will Riker stayed away from Rydell as much as 
possible.  This suited Rydell just fine.  Riker's persistence was 
admirable, but it was becoming tedious real quick.  Will Riker 
decided that the best course of action was to pull back for now.  
There would be another time to settle this.  Over the intervening years, 
he gradually lost his overwhelming ego and became a nice guy.  Despite 
this, his desire for revenge against Alexander Rydell remained.  When the 
opportunity presented itself, he swore that he'd take it.  Alexander Rydell 
would pay.





Chapter Nine

	"You turned him blue?" Jaroch asked as Rydell finished his story. 
 He was the closest to laughing that Rydell had ever seen.
	"Yea.  It took almost a month to wear completely off.  He was 
called 'Little Boy Blue' for the rest of our freshman year and 
half of the next," Rydell replied laughing.  "They ended up having 
to repaint the entire mess hall because the stuff just would not 
come off.   I eventually made friends with the other three guys 
that helped Riker with the ambush, but I never could get close to 
Will.  He avoided me like the plague."
	"Well, sir.  You did humiliate him time and time again.  Even 
he must have finally learned to stay away from you."
	"That was his choice.  I was perfectly willing to forget 
about the whole thing and start over.  Evidently Riker isn't so 
forgiving."
	"Well, he has his chance to even the score now, sir," Jaroch 
said.
	"Hopefully, it won't turn out that way, but if it does, I 
still remember how to make the blue stuff."

	"He's asleep," Emily announced exhausted as she trudged into 
the living room.  Lisa handed her a drink.
	"Regretting this yet?" she asked.
	"No.  The training is finally done.  Starting tomorrow, I'll 
have the boyfriend I always wanted."
	"I've been hesitant to bring this up until now, but, Emily, 
this is not exactly a good sign for your relationship," Claire 
said.
	"What do you mean?"
	"You can't go changing the people you date.  They are who 
they are."
	"I'm only changing him temporarily.  It's an experiment more 
than anything."
	"I'm just glad it's done," Lisa said leaning back in her 
chair.  "Scott was about to drive me crazy."
	"Trust me.  Tomorrow it will all be worth it," Emily said 
happily.  
	Back in his bedroom, Commander Scott Baird dreamt of a 
starship and fixing that starship.  He smiled contentedly and rolled 
over.  Abruptly, the dream turned in to a nightmare.  He was being 
chased by three horrible demons who were trying to take his tools 
from him and turn him into one of them.  He awoke in a cold sweat. 
 He was safe at Miss Lisa's house.  Scott sighed with relief, but 
something was nagging at the back of his mind.  Somehow, he knew 
that this was not right.  He didn't know why, but he knew he was 
in trouble.

	"Hey, I just thought of something."
	"What is it, Chekov?"
	"You can't be Spock.  He's still alive."
	"Oh yeah.  O.K.  I'll be Scotty then."
	"He's still alive too."
	"McCoy?"
	"Same problem."
	"This isn't fun anymore."
	Trinian was getting really tired of listening to those two 
idiots.  She had to do something to stop these guys from taking 
over the ship.  She had a phaser rifle that she kept behind the 
bar, but she wasn't sure she could take out both of them before 
they got her.  Perhaps it was time to try the easy approach.  She 
stood up.
	"Would you like a drink?" she asked hoping that they wouldn't 
blast her into oblivion.  The two men whirled around ready to 
fire.
	"How'd you get in here?" 'Chekov' demanded.  Trinian hoped 
these guys were as drugged as they looked.
	"I am the serving android.  I am always here.  I reside in a 
service panel behind the bar."  She tried to imitate Larkin's 
stiff movements.
	"Oh, all right," the other replied.  "I'll have a whiskey 
please."
	"Same here," his companion added.  Trinian turned to the 
replicator and programmed it.  Two glasses of liquid materialized. 
 She placed them in front of her customers and put her hand on the 
phaser rifle.  The two men drank eagerly.  Their faces switched to 
pure agony.  They clutched their throats and started screaming 
hoarsely.
	"Oops, I must have made jalapeno pepper juice by mistake.  
Silly me."  She quickly raised the phaser rifle and stunned the 
two men before they could even get their hands to their weapons.  
She had secured Seven Backward.  That was the easy part.  There 
were more of these psychos all over the ship.  "Computer, show me 
a schematic of the locations of all non-Secondprize personnel on 
the ship."  A diagram of the Secondprize appeared on the monitor 
behind the bar.  There were twenty people indicated.  This was not 
going to be easy.  She decided to work from the top down.  That 
meant she had to take out the three on the bridge first.  Trinian 
cautiously exited Seven Backward and headed toward the nearest 
turbolift.
	
	"And now ladies and gentlemen I'd like to introduce the new 
captain of the Starship Edsel.  A man who has become a legend on 
the Secondprize and throughout the Federation.  This officer has 
excelled at everything he has attempted.  His abilities are second 
to none, and his devotion to Starfleet regulations is 
extraordinary.  I'm sure you all know who I am referring to, but 
I'm going to introduce him anyway because his name sounds so 
impressive.  He here is, Starfleet's finest officer: Travis Michael 
Dillon!"  Travis Dillon strutted in front of the mirror after giving 
himself such a glowing introduction.  "Thank you.  Thank you.  The 
half hour standing ovation was unnecessary, but I appreciate it 
all the same.  I consider it a great honor to be chosen to command 
this fine starship.  I have no doubt that the crew will live up to 
my standards and learn much from observing me in action.  Many of 
you are probably wondering how I became the legend I am today.  
Well, it all started with my parents in the small town of..."  The 
doorbell chimed.  "Come in," Dillon snapped, irritated that his 
acceptance speech had been interrupted.  Lieutenant Patricia Hawkins 
entered Dillon's quarters.
	"I've got to talk to you for second, Commander," Hawkins 
said.  Her voice was filled with concern.
	"Can you give me an hour?" Dillon asked obliviously.
	"I don't think so, sir," Hawkins replied.
	"All right.  Have a seat, Lieutenant."  He walked over to the 
mock-up captain's chair he'd had replicated and sat down.  She 
took the sofa.
	"I think you might want to consider someone else for your 
first officer," she began.
	"Why?" Dillon asked alarmed.  He didn't want to have to go 
searching for a replacement with only three hours remaining until 
the promotion ceremony.
	"Do you really want a first officer who's going to run scared 
whenever a clown shows up?" Hawkins asked somberly.  Dillon 
considered this for a moment.  In all of his years on starships, 
he'd never run into a race of killer clowns.  Of course, you never 
knew what was out there, but he was willing to take a chance.  It 
was time to try Captain Rydell's sensitivity training.
	"Patricia."  Good.  Always use the first name.  It makes you 
seem more personal and caring.  "I need your experience and 
abilities on the Edsel."  Make them feel wanted.  You're doing 
great, Travis.  "The clown thing is not important.  The odds of us 
running into a bunch of clowns are infinitesimal."
	"That's true."
	"I'll help you get over this," Dillon said comfortingly.  
Hawkins thought about this.  Dillon was the biggest clown she 
knew, and she wasn't scared of him.  If she could handle him, she 
could handle anything.
	"You're right, sir," Hawkins said.  "Sorry to bother you.  
I'll see you at the ceremony, Commander."  She left Dillon's 
quarters.  Dillon let out a sigh of relief.  One disaster averted. 
 Luckily, that didn't take long, so he still had time to practice his 
speech again.

	Dr. Reginald Smythe had moved most of his things into the 
underground room he'd discovered.  He wanted to be with his 
discovery as much as possible.  He and Kellam were working day and 
night examining and cataloging the equipment and seeing about the 
possibility of restoring power.
	"Dr. Smythe, what is this stuff for?" Kellam asked finally 
giving into his curiosity.
	"I believe it's best if you don't know," Smythe replied.  "The 
importance of this equipment is such that the fewer who know what 
it is, the better."
	"Whatever you say, Professor."
	"Good.  Now where did I put that data padd?"  Kellam looked 
around frantically.  He had to find it before Smythe dove into the 
deductive process of locating it.  He started digging through the 
equipment.  "Starting with the premise that I last had it in this 
room," Smythe began.  Kellam looked faster.  "And acknowledging the 
auxiliary premises that it is still where I left it and..."
	"I found it!" Kellam shouted relieved.
	"Ah good.  Now let us continue."  Smythe went back to his 
cataloging.  Kellam collapsed against the wall.  That one was 
close, too close.  He really wished that the starship would get 
here so someone else would have to listen to Smythe's ramblings.  He 
didn't think he could take much more.

	With the hearing starting in only a couple of hours, Captain 
Alexander Rydell was unable to sleep.  Jaroch was working silently in the 
corner coming up with his strategy.  Rydell could do nothing but 
sit and wait.  Images of Will Riker and Karen Richards laughing 
and having a drink in the spacedock lounge flickered through his 
mind.  He pushed them away.  Now was not the time to have paranoid 
delusions of persecution... even though he knew that they were out 
to get him.





Chapter Ten

	"And now ladies and gentleman, I'd like to introduce the new 
captain of the Starship Edsel," Admiral Thomas Wagner stated after 
he'd finished his opening remarks.  Travis Dillon sat behind him 
relieved that everything was going according to plan.	 "Captain 
Travis Michael Dillon," Wagner finished.  Dillon jumped up startled at 
the abruptness of the introduction.  He would just have to make up 
for it in his acceptance speech.  "Captain Dillon, you and your 
crew have a mission to get started on, so we won't waste anymore 
time with this ceremony," Wagner said before Dillon could open his 
mouth.  "As of Stardate 49835.2, Travis Michael Dillon is promoted to 
captain and Lieutenant Patricia Hawkins is promoted to commander.  
Dismissed."  The crowd of Starfleet officials and the crew of the 
Edsel dispersed quickly leaving Dillon standing alone at the 
podium in shock.
	"But..." Dillon stammered.  There was no one there to hear 
it.  "I want to do my speech!" he whined.  The sound echoed in the 
empty room.  The door whooshed open again and Commander Hawkins 
entered.
	"Come on, Captain.  We've got to get going," she insisted.  
"The orders are straight from Admiral Picard."
	"O.K.," Dillon mumbled.  The excitement of command had been 
diminished slightly.  He wanted to do his speech.  Oh well, he 
could always just use the Edsel's intercom system.

	"How long until we cross into Federation space?" Donask 
demanded as she entered the bridge of the Ko'jak.
	"Three hours and then it will be another day from there to 
the Gulax system," Gornok replied.
	"This had better be worth it," Donask grumbled.

	Captain Travis Michael Dillon walked onto the bridge of the Edsel 
with his head held high.  The bridge was smaller than that of the 
Secondprize, but it was his bridge.  He sat down in the command 
chair and struck a commanding pose.
	"Tell spacedock control that we are ready for departure," he 
ordered.  "Clear all moorings.  Ahead full thrusters."  The 
starship slowly started to move.
	"Spacedock reports that we're clear for departure," 
Lieutenant Russell announced.  Despite its smaller size, the Edsel 
had a more modern bridge than the Secondprize.  The positions of 
security chief and communications officer had been combined into 
one.  Instead of a navigation and helm, the Edsel had conn and 
ops.  It was different, but Dillon was sure he'd get used to it.  
Every new starship since the Enterprise had been done this way 
except for the Secondprize.  He wasn't sure why, but he had heard 
rumors about a major screw up at the shipyards.
	"Ahead one quarter impulse," Dillon ordered.
	"But, sir, we haven't cleared spacedock," Ensign Cesnell 
protested.  Dillon smiled.
	"Trust me.  Just do it."  She complied.  The Edsel shot 
forward and got caught between the huge spacedock doors that 
hadn't opened all the way.  The entire crew was shaken out of 
their seats.  Dillon peeled his face off of the viewscreen and 
walked back to his chair.  "So I made a minor miscalculation?  So 
what?"  The doors finally opened far enough that the Edsel could 
move.  The ship shot forward like a car suddenly switched from 
neutral to drive.  Dillon flipped backwards over his command 
chair, hit the wall, and fell into the turbolift.  The rest of the 
bridge crew slowly resumed their positions.
	"Set a course for Gulax Four," Hawkins ordered rubbing the 
shoulder she'd slammed into the wall.  "Warp six."
	The turbolift stopped violently and the doors whooshed open. 
 Dillon crawled out battered and bruised.  He was in a corridor on 
a deck of living quarters.
	"Horsey!" a child's voice screamed excitedly.  Dillon felt a 
weight slam down on his back.  The air was knocked out of him.  
"Go, horsey!  Go!"  The child kicked Dillon's sides.  Dillon 
collapsed to the deck.  The child crawled off and looked down at 
Dillon angrily.  "Bad horsey!"  Dillon lost consciousness as a 
small foot smashed into his forehead.

	"This inquest is called to order," Admiral Jean-Luc Picard 
said as he slammed down his gavel.  "Today's session will just be 
the presentation of charges and opening statements.  Admiral 
Richards will read the charges."
	"The slime sucking defendant, Captain Alexander demon from Hell 
Rydell is hereby charged with violating the Prime Directive in his 
mission to Ugilious on Stardate 49804.7.  The bastard interfered 
with the natural development of the Joegonot society by 
transforming the entire race into human beings.  I would also like 
to add that he's an all-around a**hole."
	"Thank you, Admiral," Picard said.  Maybe she was a little 
biased.  "In the future, please refrain from expressing your 
personal views of the defendant."
	"I'll leave the heartless bastard alone," Richards said grudgingly.
	"Captain Riker, please present your opening statement," 
Picard said.  Riker stood up slowly, gave Rydell a glance which 
clearly read 'I'm going to bury you', and walked to the center of 
the courtroom.
	"Admirals, I am going to show beyond a shadow of a doubt that 
the bastard in question took it upon himself to interpret the 
Prime Directive and in the process showed his complete disrespect 
for Starfleet regulations."
	"We may have a problem," Jaroch whispered.
	"No kidding!" Rydell hissed.  Riker continued his tirade against 
Rydell.  Finally, it was Jaroch's turn.
	"The defense may make its opening statement," Picard said.  
Jaroch stood up and started to pace.
	"Since the beginning of the universe, planets have grown and 
evolved," Jaroch began.  Rydell buried his head in his hands.  This 
was awful.  "Most of this development has been unhindered by 
outside forces, but every once in a while something comes along 
which affects that development.  It may be an asteroid, a 
supernova, a freak orbital shift, or a Starfleet officer."  Jaroch was 
comparing him to a natural disaster.  This was just great.  Rydell 
glanced at Riker.  Riker was smiling gleefully.  Rydell didn't 
blame him.  Jaroch was doing half of his work for him.  "The Ugilious 
incident was just the next step in Joegonot evolution.  Captain 
Rydell did what he thought was necessary to save his ship and 
crew.  Nothing more.  He didn't destroy a society.  He just was 
the impetus of change nature used.  Also, he saved the entire 
Federation from one of the most powerful weapons in history.  If 
the Joegonots had not been altered, they would have used the 
transference ray to conquer the entire galaxy.  Thank you."  Jaroch 
sat back down.
	"Thank you, gentlemen," Admiral Picard said.  "We will 
reconvene tomorrow morning at nine hundred hours for testimony.  
This court is adjourned."  Admiral Richards glared at Rydell and 
left the room.  Riker walked over and talked to Picard jovially.  
Admiral Wagner approached Rydell and Jaroch.
	"I don't know what to say, Alex.  It doesn't look good."
	"I know, Admiral," Rydell replied.  "But I'm sure that Jaroch 
will think of something."  Jaroch was mumbling softly.  "Jaroch?  Jaroch?!"  
Jaroch was startled out his ramblings.
	"What?" he asked
	"I said that you'll think of something." 
	"Yeah, sure," Jaroch replied unconvincingly.  He went back to his 
mumbling.
	"What are you doing, Lieutenant Commander?" Admiral Wagner 
asked annoyed.
	"A ritual Yynsian prayer, sir," Jaroch replied.  "It asks for 
divine guidance or the gruesome death of your opponents.  Either 
would be appreciated right now."  Jaroch walked away.  Wagner patted 
Rydell on the shoulder reassuringly and followed Jaroch out the door.
	"Feeling a little pressure, Alex?" Riker asked smugly as he 
walked over.  Rydell laughed humorlessly.  "That offer for a plea 
bargain is still open."
	"Will, you pompous bastard.  I am going to win this, not to 
save my career, but because I want to be able to throw all of this 
back into your face.  Speaking of that, you might want to cut back 
on the food consumption a bit.  Your beard isn't hiding that 
double chin very well anymore."  Riker stormed off.  Rydell 
glanced around the courtroom.  It was so gray and sterile.  A very 
depressing, yet fitting place to have his career destroyed.  He 
just hoped that wouldn't happen.

	"I told you it would work out great," Emily said 
triumphantly after Scott had walked back into the kitchen.  
"Dinner was great, and we didn't have to lift a finger."
	"Don't get too used to this, Emily," Claire said.  "He's 
going to get his memory back eventually."
	"Can't we hit him over the head again or something?" Emily 
whined.  "I don't want him to get his memory back.  I like him the 
way he is now."
	"This is not Scott Baird," Claire insisted.
	"It is now!" Emily shouted.  "He doesn't cuss, he doesn't 
spend all of his free time on the holodeck riding his bike, he 
cooks for me..."
	"And he isn't Scott.  If you want someone who's going to do 
everything you say, you should be the one hanging out on the 
holodeck.  Scott is an individual.  He is who he is and not who 
you want him to be."
	"And he's taking to long with dessert," Lisa interrupted.
	"You're right," Emily said.  "Scott!"  There was no 
response.  "Scott!"  Still no answer.  Lisa, Claire, and Emily 
jumped up and ran into the kitchen.  Scott was no where to be 
seen.  They threw open the back door and looked out onto the 
beach.  Scott was gone.







Chapter Eleven

	"Captain's Log, Stardate 49836.3.  The Edsel got underway 
without incident.  I have spent the travel time to Gulax Four 
getting to know some of the children on board.  I must say that I 
am relieved that Starfleet has realized the value of my abilities. 
 I would have been disappointed with a dull patrol duty.  Now, we 
are taking on a mission of vital importance to the Federation.  I 
think.  The truth is that I have no idea what's on Gulax Four.  I 
can only assume that it's important since they sent a whole 
starship.  I would just like to say that this captain's log stuff is 
great.  I get to sit here and speak my mind without interruptions. 
   I really think that it took Starfleet far too long to realize 
my talents.  I should have been promoted to captain long ago.  To 
be honest, I should have been made captain straight out of the 
academy.  I'm a natural.  At least now, I can start making up for 
lost time.  I will have made a name for myself before the end of 
this mission."  The door chime beeped softly.  Dillon switched off 
the captain's log recorder and swiveled to face the door.
	"Come in."  Commander Hawkins entered the ready room.
	"We'll be arriving at Gulax in five hours, sir," Hawkins 
reported.
 	"Thank you, Number One," Dillon replied.  It was great being 
able to call someone else that.
	"How's your head?"
	"Much better, thanks," Dillon replied as he put his hand on 
the large red bump on his right temple.
	"How about your arm?"
	"It's O.K."
	"What about your back?"
	"Fine."
	"Just checking.  Let me know if you need me to take command 
for a while or something."
	"I will," Dillon replied irritated.  Hawkins had been 
encouraging him to let her handle this mission ever since the 
problem in spacedock.  Dillon had to admire her desire for 
command, but this was his ship.  He was the captain, and he 
wouldn't be giving command to anyone for a long time.
	"O.K.  I'll be on the bridge."
	"I'm sure you will," Dillon said.  
	"You've completely forgotten, haven't you?"
	"What?"
	"This is your ship so..."
	"Oh yeah, the opening credits!" Dillon exclaimed.  "I'll take 
care of them right away."  Hawkins left the ready room shaking her 
head.  This was going to be a long mission.
	Dillon stood up and cleared his throat.  This had to be good. 
 No screw ups.  Just say the lines like he always dreamed they 
should be.  The lights dimmed.  Dillon began to speak.
	"Space, it's real cold out here.  These are the great voyages 
of the starship fill in starship here."  Crap!  He forgot to put 
in the name.  Oh well, he couldn't go back now.  "Its continuing 
mission: to find me a new girl every week, to make me famous 
throughout the galaxy, to absolutely show that I'm the greatest 
man who ever lived.

STAR TRAKS:
	THE TRAVIS DILLON SHOW

	That was better.  The ship really felt more like it was his 
now.  He had his own credits.  This was great!


	Things had not gone exactly as Trinian had hoped.  The 
turbolifts had been shut down leaving her stuck on deck seven.  
She wandered back to the lounge and rethought her plan.  The only 
way left to the bridge was the jefferies tubes.  Unfortunately, 
the tube ended right under the bridge floor.  She would have to 
flip open the panel and stun the three people there before they 
got her.  The odds didn't seem too good of that idea succeeding.  
She decided to wait until ship's night before she tried anything. 
 For the time being she would wait in Seven Backward.  The two 
guys in Seven Backward were still fast asleep.  She stunned them 
again just for good measure.  Finally, the time arrived for 
action.  Trinian climbed slowly up the jefferies tube pulling her 
phaser rifle behind her.  She knocked on the panel at the bridge 
floor.
	On the bridge of the Secondprize, Ensign Tim Olsen was the 
only one awake.  He'd been assigned the night watch by Captain 
Kirk.  The knock from the floor scared the hell out of him.  He 
followed the sound to a small hatch in the floor.  Curiosity got 
the better of him.  Olsen cautiously opened the hatch and peered 
into it.  A small woman was there.
	"Do you have a cup of sugar up here?" she asked innocently. 
	"Hold on a second," Olsen replied.  "I'll check."
	"Can I come up and wait?"
	"Sure."  Trinian climbed onto the bridge as Olsen walked down 
to the captain's ready room.  She pulled up her phaser rifle and 
stunned the two sleeping guards while Olsen was searching.
	"I don't see any," Olsen announced as he reemerged from the 
ready room.
	"That's O.K."
	"What are you doing with that phaser?" Olsen asked 
suspiciously.
	"This," Trinian replied as she blasted Olsen.  He fell to the 
deck with a thud.  Five down, fifteen to go.  She walked back to 
the rear bridge consoles.  "Computer, reactivate all turbolifts."
	"What is your command clearance?" the computer asked.
	"I don't have one."
	"Access denied."
	"Look, this ship is being taken over.  I demand that you 
release the turbolifts so I can do something!"
	"I know, but it is against my programming to allow 
unauthorized personnel access to the computer system.  If you know 
the code, I will let you in."
	"But I don't know the code."
	"I can only give requested information."
	"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
	"I can only tell you what you ask me.  Hint!  Hint!"
	"Tell me the code!!!!!" Trinian screamed finally 
realizing what the computer was saying.
	"I thought you would never ask.  The code is Alpha Alpha 
Alpha Alpha Alpha Beta."
	"Thank you.  Computer, release the turbolifts.  Access code 
Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha Beta."
	"Turbolifts restored to normal operations."
	"About time."  Trinian stormed into the turbolift.  
"Engineering," she snapped.  There were four people down there, 
but she didn't care.  She had the element of surprise on her side, 
and she was pissed.  The turbolift slowed then stopped.  Trinian 
was ready.  The doors opened.  Trinian fired four quick blasts.  
Four bodies hit the floor.  The turbolift doors closed.  Nine 
down, eleven to go.

	"We have to go after him.  He doesn't have the knowledge to 
handle the forest," Claire said anxiously.  One of her patients had 
escaped.  This would not look good on her record.
	"It's night!" Lisa protested.  I'm not going out into the 
woods in the dark!  He'll still be there tomorrow."
	"Yes, but will he still be alive tomorrow?" Claire replied.
	"Claire is right, Lisa.  We better go find him," Emily said.
	"Fine," Lisa relented.  She opened one of the kitchen drawers 
and grabbed a flashlight.  The three women headed out into the 
dark.
	Two hours later, there was still no sign of Scott.  They had 
circled the entire island and searched most of the forest.  Emily 
and Claire had gone hoarse shouting Scott's name.  Lisa just mumbled 
how she was going to kill him the second she got her hands on him. 
 She'd finally had enough.
	"Look, let's just go back to the house and try again in the 
morning.  It's dark, and we're all exhausted."
	"Lisa's right," Emily said.  "We aren't getting anywhere 
like this."
	"I don't like the idea of leaving him out here," Claire 
insisted.  "He's not abl..."  A gloved hand reached around her 
mouth, dragged her backwards, and hit her with a stun blast.  
Emily managed to scream once before she was stunned into 
unconsciousness.  Lisa whirled around ready to fight.  A phaser 
blast ended her resistance quickly.
	"Looks like we have guests," a deep female voice said.




Chapter Twelve

	"We're approaching Gulax Four," Ensign Cesnell reported.
	"Standard orbit," Commander Hawkins ordered.  Maybe she'd 
just not tell Dillon that they had arrived, so he wouldn't have a 
chance to screw things up.  Of course, he'd probably have her court-
martialed for it.  "Hawkins to Dillon."
	"What is it, Number One?" Dillon's voice replied.
	"We're in orbit, sir."
	"Good.  Hail the surface.  I'll be right there."  Two seconds 
later Dillon ran out of his ready room.  "Did I miss anything?"
	"No, sir.  Russell hasn't even had time to hail the planet 
yet," Hawkins replied.
	"Oh.  Well, hurry up and hail them, Russell!"
	"Yes, sir," Russell replied gnashing his teeth.  Maybe coming 
along wasn't such a good idea.  Darla ran off with the science 
officer within five minutes after beaming on board, and Dillon was 
being more officious than ever.  Of course, Dillon hadn't given 
him a choice.  They were a few hundred million miles from Earth 
before Hawkins told him that he could have turned Dillon down.  Oh 
well, too late now.  "They're responding, Captain."
	"On screen," Dillon and Hawkins ordered in unison.  Dillon 
glared at his first officer.  This overzealousness was really 
getting annoying.  The face of a middle aged man with a thin black 
beard and mustache appeared on the screen.  "I am Captain Travis 
Michael Dillon of the Federation starship Edsel.  What can we do for 
you?"
	"I am Dr. Reginald Smythe.  Beam down immediately.  The logical 
implications of my discovery are too numerous to name now.  I'll 
will be waiting for you."  The transmission abruptly ended.
	"Well, that was rude," Dillon said insulted.  He was a 
Federation captain.  No one could talk to him that way.  He headed 
back toward the turbolift.  "You have the bridge, Number One.  
Russell, Dransein, you're with me.  The Edsel's security chief and 
science officer followed Dillon into the turbolift.  Hawkins sat 
down in the command chair and let out a sigh of relief.  At least 
she would be up here while Dillon went down to the surface.  She 
could leave if she had to; he couldn't.  In any case, there might 
be clowns down there.  She tried not to let the crew see the 
involuntary shudder that ran through her body.
	In the turbolift, Russell shot Lieutenant Kantura Dransein a 
dirty look.  The bastard had stolen his girlfriend, and now he had 
to go on an away mission with him.  Actually, that could turn out 
well.  Lots of accidents happen on away missions.  One stray 
phaser shot and the problem would be solved.  Dransein wasn't much 
happier than Russell about the situation.  The last thing he 
really wanted to do was spend time with Darla's ex-boyfriend.  
Situations like this could be very uncomfortable.  Dillon was 
completely oblivious to the hostility flying through the turbolift 
car.  He was too busy practicing his speech for this Smythe guy.  
He was the captain here.  No two-bit college professor was going 
to show him up.
	Dillon started coughing the second he materialized on Gulax 
IV.  That planet was a dry, desolate dustball.  Reddish brown dirt 
clouds swirled across the surface.  Dillon could just make out a 
thin figure approaching.  He appeared to be unfazed by Gulax IV's 
inhospitable environment.
	"Captain Dillon, come with me.  We have much to discuss."  
The man turned and walked back the way he came.
	"Dr. Smythe!" Dillon called.  The man didn't respond.  Dillon 
ran and caught up with him,  "Dr. Smythe, you dragged a starship 
halfway across the quadrant to this out of the way hell hole.  Now 
you had better tell me what the hell you brought me out here for, 
or I am going to get VERY upset!"
	"I find your manner to be extremely unprofessional, Captain. 
 You will find out what I brought you here for very shortly," 
Smythe replied.  He walked a little farther ahead.  Dransein and 
Russell jogged up beside Dillon.
	"This place is blasting the hell out of the tricorder," 
Dransein said.  "The readings I'm getting are really screwed up."
	"I'm not surprised considering who's operating it," Russell 
snarled.
	"You got a problem with the way I do things, Russell!" Dransein shouted.
	"That's enough!" Dillon snapped.  "Just try and see what you 
can find out, Dransein.  Russell, come with me."  He stormed off 
after Smythe dragging Russell behind him.  Smythe was almost to a 
small temporary structure when Dillon and Russell caught up with 
him.  "Now, Dr. Smythe, my time is far too valuable to be wasted.  
I'm not here too... oh my god!"  The most beautiful woman Travis 
Michael Dillon had ever seen in his life stepped out of the 
building.  She was about four inches shorter than his six feet.  
She had long brown hair and wore glasses.  The glasses enhanced 
her beauty more than anything.  It was actually the first time 
Dillon had ever seen anyone with them.  Just about all eye 
problems could be cured with surgery or medicine.  No one wore 
glasses anymore except her, and she looked great in them.
	Dillon walked right past Smythe up to the woman.  He decided 
now was the time to try the mate magnet.  Rydell said that all he 
had to do was concentrate in order to make the thing work.  Dillon 
focused his thoughts.  "I want her.  I want her."
	"Hello," she said.  Dillon collapsed in a dead faint.
	"Hmm... must be the dust," Smythe commented.

	The next three guards stationed around the Secondprize were 
easy for Trinian to take out.  They obviously weren't expecting any 
trouble.  Two of the three didn't even bother to ask her why she 
was pointing a phaser rifle at them.  Her next step was to move 
the twelve people she had incapacitated to the brig.  The easiest 
way to do that would be the transporter.  Then she could beam 
everyone except herself into the brig whether they were conscious 
or not.  Unfortunately, she had no idea how to work a transporter, 
so that plan was shot.  She ended up piling the bodies onto an 
anti-grav unit and pushing them into a convenient cell.  Captain 
Rydell was going to owe her big after this one.  She was saving 
his ship.  That was assuming, of course, that the Secondprize was 
still his when his trial was over.

	"The prosecution may call its first witness," Admiral Picard 
announced as the second day of the trial began.
	"Thank you, sir," Riker replied as he stood up.  "For my 
first witness I call the Grand Leech of the Joegonots!"  Captain 
Rydell buried his head in his hands.  This was going to be a long 
day.
	The rear doors of the courtroom burst open as a large human 
charged through them.  He was about six feet tall and four feet 
wide.  The only sign that he was once a Joegonot was a lone zit on 
the end of his nose.  The transference ray had removed the rest 
when it changed the Grand Leech into a human.
	"Hey, Cap, how's it goin'?" the Grand Leech asked loudly as 
he patted Rydell on the back.  The force of the slap knocked the 
wind out of Rydell, and he collapsed to the table gasping for 
breath.
	"Please take the witness stand, your leechiness," Picard said 
using the Joegonot leader's preferred form of address.
	"You got it, pal," the Grand Leech replied.  He hopped into 
the chair next to Picard sending a shock-wave through the entire 
room.  "What can I do for you guys?"
	"Your leechiness, would you please tell us about your 
encounter with the defendant?" Riker asked smiling.  Riker seemed 
to be enjoying the Grand Leech's behavior.  Of course, he should. 
 This made Rydell look even worse.
	"The who?  I don't know nobody named da' defendant," the 
Grand Leech replied with a laugh.  He was treating this whole 
thing as a joke.
	"Tell the court what happened when you met Captain Rydell," 
Riker clarified.
	"All right, but I'd have thought that it'd make more sense to 
tell you all."  He started laughing hysterically.
	"Just tell me what the hell happened!!!" Picard shouted 
angrily.  Rydell had never seen Picard driven to shout like that.
	"Whatever you say, Admiral Skinhead," the Grand Leech said.  
"Well, my people and I were a bunch of fat, disgusting bastards, 
and we didn't have any friends, so we decided to get some by 
force.  We kidnapped some physicist and made him build us a 
machine that would make everybody just like us.  Then, Captain 
Rydell showed up and used it on us instead.  Let me tell ya, that 
was the best thing he could have done.  I don't give a crap 
whether the whole galaxy likes me now.  They can all go f*** 
themselves for all I care.  My whole planet's like that now.  
We're all human just like you, and believe me, we're a lot 
happier."
	"Do you think that Captain Rydell interfered with the normal 
evolution of your species?" Riker asked.
	"Hell yes!  And I'm glad he did.  You ought to give that man 
a medal.  We've been erecting statues to him all over Ugilious, 
and next year we're going to have the first annual Rydell Day!  
It's going to be the biggest celebration in the galaxy with 
parades and parties.  I tell you, the whole planet will be so 
smashed we'll have to have a designated driver just to stay in 
orbit of our sun!  Oh, Captain Rydell, you're invited as the guest 
of honor, of course.  I know that my daughter would love to see 
ya."
	"Thanks." Rydell replied weakly.  Frankly, the idea of seeing 
Anemia again didn't appeal to him that much.  He didn't care that 
she was human now.  She was probably still disgusting.
	"That is all, your leechiness," Riker said.  He turned to Jaroch. 
 "You may cross-examine the witness."  Jaroch stood up slowly and 
approached the Grand Leech.
	"Your leechiness, do you feel that the Joegonots were a 
menace to the galaxy before Captain Rydell's intervention?"
	"You got that right.  We were gonna take over everything."
	"Do you regret being transformed into humans?"
	"No way!  Like I said, it's the best thing that could have 
happened."
	"No further questions."
	"The witness is excused," Picard announced.
 	"Thank you very much," Riker said.  "Your testimony has been 
most helpful."
	"Anytime.  Next time you're in our sector beam on down.  I've 
got a whole horde of daughters that would just love you."  The 
Grand Leech picked himself up out of the chair and headed out of 
the courtroom.
	"Can't we just pass sentence now?" Admiral Richards demanded. 
 "It's obvious that he's guilty as hell!  I recommend life in 
prison!"
	"That's enough, Richards!" Wagner shouted.  "The people of 
Ugilious are happy with..."
	"You can discuss this later," Picard interrupted.  He turned 
back to Riker.  "You may call your next witness."
	"The prosecution rests, sir.  I feel that the testimony of 
the Grand Leech is more than enough to find the defendant guilty," 
Riker replied smugly.
	"I agree!" Richards shouted.
	"Shut up, Karen!" Picard said angrily.  "The defense will 
present it's case tomorrow.  Court is adjourned."  Picard banged 
his gavel loudly.  This case was going to give him hypertension.
	"Do not worry, sir," Jaroch said as he and Captain Rydell left 
the court.  "We will get them tomorrow."
	"That's good to hear, Jaroch," Rydell replied.
	"I just have to think of how I am going to do it," Jaroch 
mumbled.

	Captain Travis Dillon woke up in bed.  He groggily looked 
around at where he was.  There was a small window looking out onto 
the landscape of Gulax IV and across the room was a desk.  Someone 
was sitting at it.  The someone turned around to face Dillon.  It 
was HER!
	"You're awake," she said in that wonderful voice of hers.
	"Yes," Dillon replied.  He struggled to think of a way to 
start a conversation.  "You are the most incredible thing I have 
ever seen in my life," he blurted.  It wasn't the most subtle way 
of doing things, but it was too late.
	"Thank you," she said blushing.  She was genuinely flattered 
at the compliment.
	"I am Cap...  My name's Travis," Dillon said as he sat up.
	"I'm Dr. Elizabeth Jennings... Beth," she replied smiling.  
"Nice to meet you, Captain Dillon."
	"Please just call me Travis."
	"All right, Travis.  How are you feeling?"
	"I'm much better now, thank you."  The mate magnet must be 
working.  She actually seemed to like him.
	"That's good."  She looked like she wanted to ask him 
something else, but she quickly turned back to her desk.
	"What is it?" Travis asked as he stood up and straightened his 
uniform.  She turned back to him shyly.
	"Did you really mean what you said about me the most 
incredible thing you've ever seen?"
	"Yes, every word of it," Dillon replied.  "Why do you ask?"
	"Well, it's just that I don't have dashing starship captain's 
coming on to me everyday."
	"It's their loss, Elizabeth.  You are truly gorgeous."  Come 
on, mate magnet.  Please don't fail me now.  Elizabeth stood up to 
face him.
	"The funny thing is I actually believe you mean it."
	"I do," Dillon replied.  "You're perfect.  Beautiful, 
charming, and obviously extremely intelligent."  He leaned down to 
kiss her.  She reached up, grabbed his head, and pulled his lips 
the rest of the way to hers.

	"We will be in orbit in four hours," Gornok reported.
	"Contact me when we have arrived," Donask ordered.  "I'll be 
in my quarters."

	As Emily Sullivan regained consciousness, she quickly wished 
that she hadn't.  Her neck was killing her, and she was tied 
uncomfortably to a tree.  She could see Lisa and Claire similarly 
attached to trees next to her.  Emily rolled her head around and 
groaned as the jabs of pain hit her.
	"Comfy, darling," a woman asked as she walked over.  The 
woman had long black hair which blended into her jet-black 
jumpsuit.
	"I'm just great," Emily replied.  Her neck disagreed with 
her as it sent another stabbing pain down her spinal cord.
	"I'm afraid Jack was rather rough with you, but we had to 
take precautions.  I mean, we wouldn't want anyone to find us now, 
would we?"
	"I guess not.  Who are you?" Emily asked.  She could make 
out three more people seated around a fire at the edge of the 
clearing.  The woman looked at her aghast.
	"You have been out of touch with the world, haven't you my 
dear?  Mike, bring the holovision over here."  One of the men at 
the campfire got up and brought a small device to the woman.  She 
switched it on.  A holographic image blipped into existence right 
in front of Emily.  "Now let's see if we can find the news."  The 
woman flipped through the stations.  "Ah, here we go and just in 
time too."
	"In other news, the group responsible for the assassination 
of European Alliance Representative Dietrich Hummgard is still on 
the loose.  A spokesman for the Earth Security Force has said that 
they believe that the culprits have fled to the American 
Coalition, but refuses to give any more details."  The woman cut 
off the holovision.
	"They're getting closer, guys," the woman shouted to her 
comrades.  "We may have to move out soon."
	"We'll be ready, Gretch," Mike replied.
	"So, you killed him, Gretch," Emily said contemptuously.
	"That's Ms. Koppra to you, dear.  Yes, we killed him, so 
we'll have no problem killing you too.  Remember that."  She 
pulled a knife out of its sheath around her waist and slashed at 
Emily.  The blow missed her by millimeters.  "Disobey me, and I 
won't miss the next time."  She laughed.  "Now, darling, how about 
making some supper for my men and I.  I'm sure you won't mind 
since we're so graciously letting you live."  Koppra leaned down 
and untied Emily.  "Go wake up one of your friends to help you.  
The other one stays there as insurance that you'll take me 
seriously."
	Emily stood up and stretched.  This was not looking good.  
She was on shore leave.  The dangerous stuff was supposed to 
happen while she was on a mission, not on vacation.  On the bright 
side, they evidently hadn't found Scott yet.  Hopefully, he would 
get his memory back and come save them.  Of course, Koppra and her 
people could kill him if he tried to rescue her.  They may have 
already killed him.  A feeling of panic started to well up in 
Emily's stomach.

	Trinian sat down against the wall outside of the brig 
exhausted.  The anti-grav unit had made moving the bodies easy, 
but taking out the last eight guards had worn her out.  She'd 
forgotten what a big ship the Secondprize was.  Trinian felt like 
she had walked every inch of corridor on the whole ship.  Finally, 
she was done though.  All non-Secondprize personnel on board had 
been incapacitated.  She slowly picked herself up and trudged back 
to the turbolift.  She was going to go to bed.  The turbolift 
stopped on deck eight where Trinian exited to head to her quarters. 
 Rounding a corner, she almost ran headlong into Dr. Singer.
	"Hello, Trinian," Dr. Singer gasped in surprise.  "I thought 
everyone was off the ship."
	"So did I.  Did you just come back?"
	"Uh... yes.  I left a couple of things in my quarters."
	"Well, you missed all of the excitement here," Trinian said as 
she walked off down the hall.  "Have a good shore leave, Dr. 
Singer."
	"I'm not Dr. Singer, and I'm not going anywhere," Singer 
replied sinisterly.  Trinian stopped in her tracks and slowly 
turned around.  "And neither are you," Singer added as she 
raised her phaser.



Chapter Thirteen

	"That's it!  I'm going down there," Commander Patricia Hawkins 
stated angrily as she jumped out of the command chair of the 
Edsel.  It had been two hours since Dillon contacted the ship, and 
his responses to her hails were strained to say the least.  He 
seemed to be really busy with something.  "Cesnell, you have the 
bridge."  Hawkins charged into the turbolift and ordered it to 
take her to the transporter room.  Ensign Danielle Cesnell giggled 
gleefully and moved to the command chair.  Wow!  She'd only been 
an officer for a week and already she had control of a whole 
starship.  Cool!  She bounced up and down in the command chair 
with an incredibly huge smile on her face.  It was enough to make 
the lieutenant at ops want to puke... which he did.
	Hawkins materialized right in the middle of a dust storm.  
She started coughing uncontrollably as she fell to the ground from 
the force of the winds.  Crawling and gasping she made her way out 
of the storm.  She finally arrived at the edge of the dust cloud. 
 The end was very distinct.  On one side of the line was the 
swirling mass of choking dust.  On the other was complete calm.  
Lieutenant Kantura Dransein was standing on the calm side taking 
readings of the storm when Hawkins crawled out right in front of 
him.  He looked down at her puzzled.
	"Am I in Oz yet, Toto?" Hawkins mumbled dazed.
	"Woof woof," Dransein replied unamused and then resumed taking 
readings.
	Seeing his commanding officer lying on the ground coughing 
and wheezing brought Lieutenant Russell running.  He helped 
Hawkins to her feet and smacked her on the back a couple of times 
to help get the dust out of her system.
	"Thanks...Russell," she gasped.  "I thought I was going to 
die in there."
	"And Kanturd over there wasn't much help either," Russell 
said making sure it was loud enough for Dransein to hear.  Dransein 
slammed his tricorder shut and stormed toward Russell.
	"Hey, who's the one who's going to be sleeping with Darla 
when we get back to the ship?" he demanded smugly.  "She feels so 
great..."
	"I'm going to talk to Dr. Smythe now," Hawkins said as she 
slipped out from between the two angry lieutenants.  Behind her, 
Dransein and Russell lunged at each other and fell to the ground 
sending up an huge dust cloud.  From inside it, the sounds of 
fists smacking against flesh and various oaths and curses could be 
heard.
	Dr. Smythe was emerging from a hole in the ground when Hawkins 
approached.  He looked her up and down disdainfully.  These 
Starfleet people just could not handle Gulax Four's environment.
	"What can I do for you?" Smythe asked finally.
	"I am Commander Patricia Hawkins, First Officer of the Edsel.  I 
demand to know where my captain is!"  Smythe shrugged and headed 
back down into the hole.  Hawkins got pissed.  "Now wait just a 
minute, pal!  Where the hell do you think you're going?"  He 
stopped his descent and looked back up the ladder.
	"I am going back to work.  Your captain is in our camp.  He, 
however, is not your primary concern.  If you will come down here, 
I will show you what is."  Hawkins looked at the building and then 
down the hole in a moment of indecision.  Dillon's safety was her 
responsibility, but he didn't seem to be in any danger.  Smythe's 
discovery, however, was their overall reason for being here.  She 
climbed down the ladder.  If Dillon was in trouble, he could 
handle it himself.
	At that moment, Dillon was not in trouble at all.
	Hawkins jumped off of the ladder and looked around the 
chamber.  Several portable lamps had been brought down as well as 
a small replicator.  The room itself was nothing spectacular.  A 
few desks and some strangely shaped chairs were scattered along 
three of the walls.  The fourth was dominated by a huge computer 
console.  She stared at it for a long while trying to comprehend 
what it was.  She had no clue.  Smythe was pleased by the confusion 
on her face.
	"That is why you're here, Lieutenant."
	"What is it?" she asked.
	"It is quite simply the most incredible thing I have ever 
seen in my life."

	"Captain Kirk, I presume," Trinian said as she faced Dr. 
Singer.
	"Very good," Singer replied.  "I'm so sorry I neglected 
your presence here for so long.  I didn't think to ask the computer 
if there were any non-Starfleet personnel on board.  Oh well, I'll 
know better next time."
	"Next time?!"
	"Oh yes, you can't take over the galaxy with just one ship.  
Soon, I will have all of Starfleet under my control, just as it 
was meant to be.  I am their greatest hero.  They will obey me!"
	"I hate to break this to you, but Captain Kirk was a man."
	"Silence!!!" Singer bellowed.  "Never question the form I 
have chosen in my second coming!  I am James T. Kirk!!!"
	"Listen to me.  You are Dr. Rebecca Singer.  Captain Kirk is 
gone.  He go bye bye, got it?"
	"How dare you treat me like a child!"
	"Well, under the circumstances, it seems appropriate," Trinian 
remarked.  Shaking with rage, Singer lowered the phaser a little 
bit.  In a flash, Trinian ripped off her platter shaped hat and 
threw it at the mad doctor.  The hat flew like a Frisbee and hit 
Singer right in the mouth.  She screamed and bit right through 
it.  Blood was seeping from the sides of her lips where the hat 
impacted.
	"You will DIE for this insolence!!!"
	"Captain Kirk had a better temper," Trinian shouted back as 
she took off running.  Singer let out another scream of rage and 
ran after the hostess.  "Computer, what is wrong with Dr. 
Singer?" Trinian said as she turned another corner.
	"Your guess is as good as mine," the computer replied.  
"She's really screwed up though."
	"No kidding.  Give me a quick run-down of everything she has 
done in the last week."  Trinian threw a quick glance over her 
shoulder.  Singer was gaining on her.
	"On the morning of Stardate..."
	"Just tell me the important stuff!" Trinian shouted.
	"Some people consider their morning shower very important."
	"I DON'T!!!" she screamed.  "Did she hit her head on 
anything or something like that?"
	"Sort of."
	"What do you mean sort of?!!  I haven't got a lot of time 
here."  Dr. Singer had much longer legs than Trinian making her 
run a lot faster.  Of course, Trinian had the fear of death pushing 
her on.
	"On Stardate 49829.4, she accidentally injected herself with 
an entire hypospray of pain killers and muscle relaxants and then 
danced into a wall.  Does that count?"
	"YES!" Trinian shouted.  O.K.  Singer was probably in some 
drug induced hallucination.  That explained why she was Captain 
Kirk.  Now all Trinian had to do was figure out how to get Rebecca back 
to normal quickly.  She didn't think she could run until the drugs 
wore off by themselves.  Trinian was really starting to wish that 
she hadn't left her phaser rifle in the brig.  This was 
ridiculous.  Somewhere in that raging, slobbering monster was Dr. 
Singer.  Trinian would just have to talk to her until she came 
out.  She stopped and turned to face her pursuer.  Singer was 
charging up the corridor.  Her fingernails looked like claws.  Her 
mouth was open with her teeth bared and blood running down her 
chin.  Her eyes showed pure hatred.  Trinian decided that talking 
to Rebecca was the stupidest thing she could try and started running 
again.

	"We're going to lose, aren't we?" Rydell asked as Jaroch bashed 
his head into the desk for the tenth time in the last hour.  Jaroch 
looked up at him weakly.
	"The odds are not exactly in our favor, sir," he replied.  "I 
cannot find one legal precedent which supports our case.  People 
brought up on these type charges always lose.  There seems to be 
no excuse for violating the Prime Directive."
	"Maybe we can find one," Rydell suggested hopefully.
	"I doubt it, sir, but I'll try.  Computer, access all reports 
on the Secondprize's visit to Ugilious."
	"Please give your name and security clearance."
	"This is Lieutenant Commander Jaroch.  My clearance is Level 
Two," Jaroch replied.
	"Voice print verified.  Access to requested files denied.  
These files are restricted to Level One clearance or higher."
	"You will have to do it, sir.  Only Starfleet captains and 
admirals can get to the information we need."
	"All right," Rydell said.  "Computer, access Ugilious logs.  
This is Captain Alexander Rydell.  Level One clearance."
	"Voice print verified," the computer said.  "You may access 
the information."  Jaroch quickly brought the data up on the viewer on 
his desk and started reading.  Five minutes later, he hit his head 
on the desk again.
	"No luck?" Rydell asked.
	"I am the biggest fool in the galaxy," Jaroch said happily.
	"You found something!" Rydell exclaimed as he jumped off the 
sofa.  Jaroch looked up at him and smiled broadly, one of the few 
times Rydell had ever seen him smile.
	"You could say that," Jaroch replied.

	"Did they say anything about Scott?" Claire whispered as she 
and Emily prepared their captor's dinner.  Lisa had refused to 
help saying she'd prefer to stay tied to the tree than cook for 
psychos.  Unfortunately, she didn't stay tied up long.  Koppra and 
Mike escorted Lisa off into the forest to gather firewood under 
their supervision.
	"No," Emily replied.  Claire could see the concern all over 
her face.  In fact, she seemed more worried about Scott than she 
did about herself.  "I just hope he's still alive."
	"As long as Koppra doesn't find him, he will be," Claire said. 
 "She doesn't seem like the type who'd tolerate his current state 
for very long.  Lisa was about to kill him as it was."
	"You aren't helping."
	"Sorry."  They worked in silence for a few more minutes.  
Finally, Lisa stumbled back into the clearing covered with dirt 
and loaded down with a pile of sticks.
	"I'm going to have to kill her," Lisa murmured as she dropped 
the pile at Emily's feet.  "She made me crawl on the ground to 
find these damn sticks."
	"You want to cook instead?" Emily asked.
	"Shut up," Lisa snapped.
	"It's time to eat, boys," Koppra announced.  She and her 
companions gathered at the stump they used for a table.  "Dinner 
had better be ready, my dears."  Emily and Claire carried the food 
over to the stump and served them.  "It looks delicious.  Let's 
hope it tastes good as well."  Koppra started laughing evilly.
	After supper, Emily and Claire were told to take care of the 
dishes while Lisa was sent out with Mike for more firewood.  
Emily performed her task distractedly.  She couldn't stop worrying 
about Scott.  At least they were alive.  She didn't know about 
him.
	"Hey, there's a light on in that house!" Jack exclaimed 
suddenly.  Emily looked toward Lisa's house and saw a light 
glowing faintly through the trees.  Hope welled up in her.  Scott 
had gone home.
	"Let's go, Jack," Koppra ordered angrily.  "Bring one of them 
with us.  Stay here and guard the other one, Dirk!"  Jack grabbed 
Claire and followed Koppra out into the forest.  Dirk sat against a 
tree silently keeping watch.  He had his weapon trained on Emily. 
 She didn't feel like risking getting shot in an attempt to jump 
him.  Frustration finally got the better of her.
	"I hate this!" she shouted to the sky.
	"I don't blame you," Dirk said.  "I wouldn't be enjoying 
myself if I were you either."
	"Koppra's going to kill us, isn't she?"
	"Probably.  There's no reason to let you live.  You know who 
we are and what we did."
	"Well, she didn't have to brag about it to us," Emily 
insisted.
	"We kidnapped you, though.  That in itself could get us a 
long time in a penal colony," Dirk replied rationally.
	"I guess you're right," Emily looked at the ground.  Guilt 
washed over her.  "This is all my fault," she said softly.
	"What do you mean?  You didn't ask us to come capture you."
	"I know.  We wouldn't even be here though if I hadn't decided 
to try to reprogram my boyfriend."  She busied herself with the 
dishes to keep from getting too upset.  "It was a stupid idea.  I 
tried to change Scott, and it might end up getting him killed.  I 
never should have done it."
	"I'm glad to hear you say so," a very familiar voice said 
from behind her.  She whirled around.  Instead of Dirk, Scott Baird 
was standing against the tree.
	"Scott!" she shouted in disbelief.  "How the hell did you 
find me?"
	"Find you?"  He started laughing.  "I f***ing captured you in 
the first place.  This is a holographic projection belt," he said 
pointing to the object around his waist.  "And this is a voice 
disguiser," he added holding up a small black necklace."  She 
heard footsteps approaching.  Claire and Lisa entered the clearing 
followed by Koppra, Mike, and Jack.  Claire and Lisa gawked at 
Scott in surprise.  Their captors touched a small button on their 
waists.  The forms of Mike, Jack, and Koppra blurred and then 
vanished.  Standing in their places were Lieutenant Craig Porter, 
Ensign Charlie Preston, and Lieutenant Monica Vaughn.  They started 
laughing hysterically.  Scott soon joined them.
	"Gotcha," he gasped between laughs.  Emily, Lisa, and Claire 
just looked at each other in disbelief.

	Captain Travis Dillon emerged from the camp building hand in 
hand with Dr. Jennings.  About that same time, Hawkins climbed out 
of the underground room.  She was still a little confused as to 
what it was that Smythe had actually found, but she couldn't deny 
that it was important.  She spotted Dillon and ran toward him.  It 
took her a full fifty meters to realize that Dillon was actually 
with someone, a female who actually looked like she liked Dillon. 
 They seemed disgustingly happy and content.  She tried to ignore 
it and just report to her captain.
	"I recommend that we get Smythe's discovery off of this planet 
and back to Starfleet Command as soon as possible, sir," Hawkins 
said.
	"Not even a hello, Patty?" Dillon asked nonchalantly.  
Hawkins almost fainted.  She turned on Dr. Jennings angrily.
	"What have you done to him?" she demanded.
	"Not a thing," Dr. Jennings replied confused at the 
accusation.
	"Don't give me that!  He's never this mellow."
	"I'm fine, Commander," Dillon said.  "I'll contact the ship 
and have the thing beamed up."  Suddenly, a disrupter blast flew 
past his head and disintegrated part of the building behind him.
	"That won't be necessary," Captain Donask announced as she 
reholstered her disrupter.  The four Klingons with her began to 
move toward Dillon and the others.




Chapter Fourteen

	Ensign Larkin was bored.  Technically, androids 
were not supposed to feel emotions such as boredom, but Larkin 
was definitely suffering from a lack of anything to do.  Shore 
leave was just not a thrilling experience for the ensign.  She 
didn't have a family to visit, and all of her friends had gone off 
to do other things.  She spent most of her time wandering 
aimlessly around spacedock looking for someone to talk to or 
something to occupy her mind.  Considering her brain could handle 
over a thousand different jobs at any one time, finding something 
to occupy it was almost impossible.  She had already read every 
entry in the spacedock's library computer, measured the amount of 
carpet in the station, and counted every bolt used to hold the 
place together.  Finally, she just couldn't take anymore.  She 
decided to go back to the Secondprize and shut down for a while in 
her quarters.  At least that way she couldn't get bored.
	As Larkin walked across the access tunnel to the 
Secondprize, she thought she heard the faint sound of footsteps.  
This puzzled her since the Secondprize was supposed to be 
deserted.  She had just reached the main hallway when Trinian ran 
by.
	"What are you doing?" Larkin asked innocently.  "There are 
other recreational facilities available on the spacedock for 
running."
	"Shut up and run!" Trinian shouted back.  Suddenly, Dr. 
Singer ran around the corner.
	"Are you a part of this new fitness program too, Dr. 
Singer?"  Dr. Singer let out an angry scream at the sound of 
her name and charged Larkin.  The impact knocked the doctor to 
the floor and sent Larkin's limbs flying in every direction.  
Singer quickly picked herself up and ran off after Trinian.  
Larkin's hair had gotten caught around the doctor's leg sending 
her head dragging and bouncing along after Dr. Singer.  Singer 
finally noticed the extra weight on her leg and kicked forward.  
Larkin's head flew ahead toward Trinian.  Quickly accessing her 
studies of human behavior, Larkin decided that this would be a 
good time to start screaming.  Trinian quickly turned around and 
saw the ensign's head flying at her.  She jumped up, caught it, 
and kept running.
	"I'm glad you could drop by," Trinian remarked.
	"I find your use of humor in this situation most 
inappropriate," Larkin replied.  "Dr. Singer appears to be 
very upset."
	"We'll make a detective out of you yet."
	"May I ask why the doctor has turned into a rampaging 
maniac."
	"She thinks she's Captain James T. Kirk."
	"Oh."  Larkin though about this for a second.  "I fail to 
see why this would make her angry."
	"You try being the galaxy's greatest womanizer while trapped 
in a woman's body!" Trinian snapped.
	"I see."
	"Actually, she overdosed on pain killers, and it messed up 
her head...  Head!  Thank you, Larkin, you just got me out of 
this."
	"How?" Larkin asked.  Her powerful brain was slowly turning 
to jello trying to figure out what was going on.
	"Have you ever played football?"
	"No, but I've studied the sport."
	"Close enough.  You're going out for a pass."
	"I don't understand what..."  Larkin didn't get to finish 
her sentence.  Trinian turned around and hurled Larkin's head at 
Dr. Singer hitting her right in the stomach.  Dr. Singer 
doubled over and fell to the floor.
	"BITE HER!!!" Trinian shouted.  Larkin decided just to do as 
she was told and bit down on the only bit of Dr. Singer she 
could reach.  Singer screamed and frantically tried to pull 
Larkin off of her nose.  Larkin bit down harder.  Trinian ran 
by the doctor and back to where Larkin's limbs had landed.  She 
picked up a leg and headed back toward Singer.  The doctor had 
gotten up, but still could get Larkin off of her nose.  Trinian 
ran up and clubbed Singer with Larkin's leg.  Singer fell 
down again unconscious.  Trinian sat down and let out a huge sigh 
of relief.
	"That was a good idea, Trinian," Larkin commented.
	"Thank you."

	Commander Patricia Hawkins let her security chief instincts take 
over.  She quickly drew her phaser, aimed at one of the 
approaching Klingons, and fired.  A small pile of dust fell out of 
her weapon, but otherwise nothing happened.  Donask laughed evilly 
as the Klingons kept coming.
	"Captain, we're in trouble," Hawkins said as she started 
backing up.
	"Any suggestions?" Dillon asked nervously.
	"Our phasers are useless and theirs aren't, and even if we 
did fight them hand to hand, they out number us.  Sorry, sir, I'm 
stumped."
	"I was afraid of that."  Suddenly, a swirling dust cloud 
swept across the four approaching Klingons.  A flurry of shouts and 
hits were heard.  When the cloud moved on, the four Klingons lay 
unconscious on the ground.  Donask stood in silent shock for a 
minute and then let out an angry battle cry.  She drew her 
disrupter and charged forward.  The cloud dissipated revealing 
Lieutenants Russell and Dransein.  They were battered, but still 
glaring at each other with intense hatred.  They both noticed 
Captain Donask at the same time.  She was running at them with her 
disrupter.  They quickly decided their fight could wait and ran 
toward Dillon, Smythe, Jennings, and Hawkins.
	"What are you doing standing around?" Russell demanded.  
"She's trying to kill us!"
	"If we take as a premise that my discovery is the most 
important thing on this planet..." Smythe began.
	"Look, pal," Hawkins interrupted angrily.  "The premise is 
that there's a pissed off Klingon coming after us with a 
disrupter!  The auxiliary premises are that she wants to kill us 
and that a disrupter could do the job easily.  The conclusion 
is that we run for our lives, got it?!"  Smythe 
looked at her confused.  He was trying to follow her logic in his 
mind.  Suddenly, a disrupter blast exploded right beside him.  He 
understood perfectly and took off running.
	Captain Dillon pounded frantically on his commbadge as he 
ran.  "Dillon to Edsel!  Dillon to Edsel!"
	"Uh... what do you need?" Ensign Cesnell asked softly.
	"Beam us up NOW!!!"
	"But, Captain, what about the device?" Russell protested.
	"It's not worth getting killed over."
	"But, Travis, it's an important discovery," Elizabeth said.
	"You're right," Dillon replied sweetly.  "Beam up everyone 
except me and Lieutenant Russell."
	"Make sure they save my students!" Smythe demanded.
	"Did you get that Edsel?"
	"My name's Danielle," Cesnell said confused.
	"Just make sure that everyone except me, Russell, and the 
Klingons gets beamed up to the ship!" Dillon shouted.
	"O.K." Cesnell replied hurt.  "You don't have to be so mean 
about it."
	"But what about you, Captain?!" Hawkins demanded.  "You could 
be killed."
	"Don't worry," Dillon smiled confidently.  "I've got a plan."
	"I'll be waiting for you," Elizabeth said.  Seconds later, 
the group disappeared in the twinkle of transporter beams.  Dillon 
heard Donask let out a scream as she saw most of her would-be 
victims vanish.  She charged ahead even faster.
	"So what's the plan, sir?" Russell asked nervously.
	"Not a clue."
	"Please tell me you're kidding."
	"Actually I am," Dillon said glumly.
	"Then why do you sound so upset?"
	"Because it's a really stupid plan," Dillon replied.

	"Send a distress call to Starfleet Command immediately 
apprising them of the situation," Hawkins ordered as she ran out 
of the turbolift onto the bridge.  The image of a Klingon Bird of 
Prey filled the viewscreen,  "Why the hell didn't you contact us 
when the Klingons entered orbit?!"
	"Well... they're our allies," Cesnell stammered.
	"Look, I don't care if your mother, Santa Claus, and the 
Easter Bunny are out there, you tell us about it!"
	"I'll remember next time."
	"Good... if there is a next time."

	Three hours after Scott's reappearance, he and the others were 
seated in the spacedock lounge having a real dinner.  Emily, 
Lisa, and Claire had been almost completely silent the entire time. 
 They were angry and confused.  Scott had gotten them all right, 
and he'd gotten them good.
	"... and the look on Lisa's face when we made her crawl into 
that bush looking for twigs... it was great!" Monica laughed.
	"How did you do it?" Emily mumbled softly.  Everyone stopped 
talking.  It was most she'd said all evening.
	"How'd we get Lisa to crawl?" Craig Porter asked bewildered.
	"How did you do it?" Emily repeated.
	"Ahh," Scott said.  "She wants to know how I did it.  Well 
now, normally a true master would keep his techniques a secret, 
but in this case, I think I'll make an exception."
	"Just tell the story!" Lisa shouted.  The lounge went 
silent and every head turned toward them.  "What are you looking 
at?!" she screamed.  People quickly went back to what they were 
doing.
	"O.K.," Scott began.  "Something had been pulling at the back 
of my brain from the first day we were at Lisa's house.  I 
didn't realize what was going