Star Traks, Waystation, and REM's Document belong to Alan Decker. The Explorer, her fated crew, and all the mistakes and uncomfortable situations that come about because of her are gladly owned by Anthony Butler, Copyright 1998. Paramount owns everything else, including my eternal soul. If you're offended by mildly disturbing language, situations, and the utter disregard of some of Star Trek's greatest premises, better hit the "Back" button on your browser right now. If not, welcome aboard! STAR TRAKS: THE VEXED GENERATION W O R L D S A P A R T A-PART ONE 0 0 \__/ By Anthony Butler HISTORIAN'S NOTE: This book takes place shortly after the re-construction of Waystation. "Smile--it's free!" Some Hippy Idiot :) PROLOGUE UNITED FEDERATION OF FUN THE FUNSHIP SECONDPRIZE "The Multek vessels are closing on us fast," Andrea Sulli-fun called out from the helm console. "They'll finish off our shields in less than a minute." "Damn," Happymaster Travvy Dillon cursed to himself, gripping the helm console as another burst from the Multek vessel pounded the Secondprize's shields. "And where, pray tell, are our reinforcements?" "Emperor Webber has sent the Enterprise to assist," Patty Hawkins said happily from the tactical console. "Picard will help us." "You ditz!" Travvy shrieked in panic. "That insufferable, effiminate, sherrry-drinking bastard has wanted my job from day one!" "Happymaster, surely you're not saying that another Federation Funship would--" "I'm not saying anything. What's the ETA of the Enterprise?" "Just under a minute," Sulli-fun ticked off. "Put their approach on the viewscreen and get me an open frequency as soon as they're in range." Suddenly the doors to the aft turbolift swished open and the irritating squeak of rubber brushing against rubber poured onto the bridge. Travvy didn't have to turn around to see who was breathing heavily behind him. "Lisa-love. I thought I told you to remain belowdecks." "It's awful lonely down there," Lisa-love said, running a finger through Travvy's hair. Travvy whirled around. "I'm kind of busy now, darling. I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!" Lisa-love had become more and more annoying ever since she had given up her command status to act as Travvy's faithful love servant. Such had been the price of her loss of Playstation to the rebels. Without that loss, thought Travvy wryly, he probably wouldn't be in the predicament he was in right now. "Shields have failed!" Patty called out, glaring jealously at Lisa-love. "Our hull is compromised on three decks!" "What about the Enterprise?" Travvy called back, ignoring Lisa-love for the moment. Commander Zackie Ford looked up from his panel. "Coming in on a vector of three two one mark zero at full impulse. They're fending off the Multeks, Happymaster!" Travvy smiled fiendishly. "Maybe Picard has a trace of honor left in him. Get him on-screen." The view of scattering Multek ships suddenly gave way to a view of the Enterprise's sassy and bright bridge, decorated with a satisfactory splash of color over sensible wood-paneled walls and oriental rugs. Captain Jean-jean Picard stepped into view, causing Travvy to immediately scrub a hand down his bearded face. Picard was still wearing that silly sailor's outfit, along with its outlandish tassled Captain's hat. Something about the Enterprise's original lineage inspired the warped man to wear the outfit, and he had once told Travvy that the pants made him feel powerful. The Happymaster shivered as Picard addressed him. "Hello, Travvy. How nice it is to see you again. I see I caught you in a spot of trouble." "Yes, um, thanks for the help," Travvy replied tiredly. Picard nodded. "We can negotiate my...payment later, sweetheart. What I need from you is a deal. It seems your ship is damaged and you are almost defenseless. It would be a shame if it was...beyond repair." "What are you talking about, Jean-jean?" Travvy asked angrily. He didn't like the sound of this. "Aside from some hull fractures, the Secondprize is fine." "Is it?" Patty suddenly looked up from her panel in horror. "Happymaster! Incoming!" An array of panels exploded behind her, throwing her over her station and to the ground. Zackie jumped over the tactical railing and assessed the situation. "They just knocked out our first and third command processors, your Happyness!" On the viewscreen, Picard twirled a hand in the air happily. "Frere Travvy, Frere Travvy, dormez-vous, dormez vous? Sonner la matina, Sonner la matina..." "He's going to destroy us just so he can take over your job?" Lisa-love asked angrily from behind Travvy. "It would certainly seem that way," Travvy said, annoyed. "Damn ladderclimber." Picard turned again to face Travvy. "Morning bells are ringing for you, brother Travvy. Will you wake up, or shall I put you to sleep...permanently?" With a wave of the Frenchman's hand, another spread of torpedoes crashed into the Secondprize. "Breaches all over the secondary hull. Massive casualties coming in, Happyness!" Ford called out from tactical. "Well, this is a pickle," Travvy said thoughtfully. "This is a pickle?" Lisa-love said frantically. "A PICKLE? Is that all you can say?" "What would you like me to say? That I know a way to get us out of this in one piece? Ha. I wish I did." Suddenly Ford looked up from his panel in amazement. "Happyness, a vessel just decloaked off our bow. It's the Defiant!" "As if we didn't have enough problems," Lisa-love muttered. "Sir, they're--" Five beams suddenly coalesced on the bridge of the Secondprize. Before anyone on the ruined bridge could react, they were felled with phaser blasts, until Travvy and Lisa-love were the only crewmembers left standing. One of the members of the party stepped forward, looking Lisa-love and Travvy up and down incredulously. "Fancy meeting you two here," Dr. Singer said ironically. "Call me sentimental, but I wanted to see my old ship one last time before it's destroyed." "You're nuts, Becky," Travvy said. "What do you hope to accomplish by being here?" "If I'm lucky," Singer shrugged, clamping a hand down on Travvy and Lisa-love's wrists. "A sweet ransom for you two pretties. Singer to Defiant. Pull us out." Before Travvy or Lisa-love could protest, they were gone in an electric shimmer. "Merde! Where did they come from!" Picard cried from the command chair, batting its armrests like a child having a tantrum. Commander Data turned from his position at ops. "Presumably, they decloaked, Captain." "Well, destroy them!" "That is easier said than done, sir," Data said. "They have recloaked, on an apparent course back to Playstation." Picard turned back to regard Lt. Woofie at tactical. "Then transport the Yynsian aboard so we can interrogate him and destroy the Secondprize. I've grown tired of looking at it." "The pleasure is all mine," the towering Klingon said in a cartoony voice. Picard felt that Woofie had way too much hostility ever since he had forced him to divide his ponytail into two cute, girlish pigtails. Picard watched in satisfaction as beams lashed out at the Secondprize, burning through its engineering hull and incinerating the warp core shielding, until the whole thing exploded in a bright dance of light. The Captain took his hat off and turned to face his bridge crew, a solemn expression on his face. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Secondprize is a loss. As is the former Happymaster." He sniffed and wiped a tear from his eye. "Contact the Emperor with the bad news. Then submit my application, along with my resume and a few good references. And try to get the spelling right this time, Woofie." Woofie nodded as he carried out the orders. "Shall I contact our allies in case something should go wrong?" Picard giggled jovially. "Yes, yes, Mr. Woofie. At any rate, they will make charming companions at the party I shall throw once we retake Playstation." "Goodie," Woofie said giddily. Data turned a gaze up to Picard. "If I may ask, sir, how can we be sure that Happymaster Dillon is dead? Perhaps he was beamed away by the team from the Defiant." "I'm sure he was, Data," Picard said, leaning down and putting a hand on Data's shoulder. "That's why we're going to chase them all to Playstation and put an end to this be- damned rebel menace once and for all. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" "Yes, sir," Data nodded. Picard gave him a little nudge on the chin. "I knew you would. Now prepare my bath and my ducky. I feel like splashing around a bit before we reach Playstation." DELTA QUADRANT If you're happy and you know it clap your hands. If you're happy and you know it clap your hands. Waves of joy spread throughout the billowing pink plasma eternity that was the Crebius cluster. Inside, a giant eyeball spastically bounced back and forth like a tennisball. The eyeball represented a link between the higher, transcendent functions of the beings known to many in the Delta Quadrant as "The Directors" and the corporeal beings they liked to call "The Audience." The Directors thought they had everything planned up until and including the moment when the Starship from the Other Side ripped through their dwelling and seared it with a weapon that they had not expected. A weapon that pushed their evolved, transcendent brains past the point of sanity and well into an unbearable, but happy, oblivion. The year and a half that passed since that unfortunate moment saw no ease to the madness that afflicted these peaceful creatures. Months ago they had reconciled themselves to the fact that it simply would never end. Then, finally, the Starship that had afflicted them pushed into them again, causing their innermost being to be warped even more. They didn't know what to do; they'd never confronted emotions like the ones that surged through them. Happy-sappy-happy emotions. So they did the only thing they could as they caressed the hull of that Nebul-class vessel. They pushed and pulled and tore at the purple clouds around them...turning the very make-up of the cluster and its corresponding link with the Bermuda Expanse in the Alpha Quadrant inside-out. If you're happy and you know it and you really want to show it, If you're happy and you know it clap your hands. And the Starship responded by plunging right through them toward whatever lie on the other side. :) CHAPTER ONE USS EXPLORER Captain's Log, Stardate 52605.5. We're currently docked at Waystation while the Explorer is resupplied for another trip into the fringes of Beta Quadrant. It's been an interesting few months, but I'm glad to see some familiar sights again. Space can be a pretty darn lonely place if you let it get to you. That's why I'm glad to know that we can return to a friendly little port of call like Waystation. "Well?" Lt. Hartley asked, trying to get a glimpse of Lt. J'hana behind the menu she was reading. "What do you recommend?" "Silence," J'hana barked, returning her eyes to the menu. She had been looking forward to trying out the Andorian restaurant on Waystation for quite some time, since she hadn't had the time to try it the previous times she had been in the area. Unfortunately, J'hana had run into Lt. Hartley en route to the restaurant, and the transporter chief seemed intent on going along with J'hana to sample the cuisine. "I don't know about you, J'hana, but I'm getting really worried about that stench coming from the kitchen. It smells like burning rubber." "That smell, Lieutenant, is bashtak, and it only gives off that odor when it is very fresh," J'hana said briskly. "Maybe I'll just have a hamburger." J'hana slammed the menu down so hard it shook the table. "You are at an Andorian restaurant. You WILL NOT have a hamburger. There is a Sandwhich Star stand just on the other side of the food court if that is what you wish to eat. Otherwise, you will eat what I order and you will not complain." "I can only hope the food is half as good as the conversation," Hartley muttered, picking up her own menu and trying to make sense of it. "Why couldn't you get us Federation Standard menus anyway?" J'hana made an irritated noise. "I read Federation Standard every single day. I speak Federation Standard every day. I hear Federation Standard every day. If I have the opportunity to speak and read my native tongue, I will do so." "Gotcha," Hartley replied, going back to her menu. Her latest attempt to be nice to the only person on the Explorer crew that was grumpier than she was not going as well as planned. "Hello, ladies," a man in a well-tailored suit said excitedly, approaching behind J'hana and Hartley and pulling up a chair. "Here from the Explorer?" "Go away," J'hana said, without looking up from her menu. The man turned to Lt. Hartley withoug missing a beat. "Could I take a moment to talk to you about being prepared?" "You heard my friend. Scram," Hartley said. "Allow me to introduce myself," the man replied, pulling a card out of his jacket and handing it to Hartley. "The name's Bradley Dillon, and I am the CEO of Dillon Enterprises. We are dedicated to advancing exploration, much like you. You two enjoy discovering new cultures and planets, right?" "It's a living," J'hana muttered, not looking up from her menu. "Well, what if I said I could offer you two the chance to explore the galaxy without the constraints of Federation law? We would have a powerful ship, all the equipment we'd ever need--and adventure beyond your wildest dreams." "We get plenty of adventure without your help, Mr. Dillon," Hartley said. "That may be. But you know what you don't have? Risk! Sure, it's all well and good to visit the far reaches of space in a Galaxy-class starship. Anyone could do that. Hell, they're even sending families out there. But we could go places that even your fancy ship doesn't dare venture. What would you say to a trip to the Galactic Core? We could meet God, have a nice catered lunch, then catch a holonovel. It would be so much fun!" "I would say the Galactic Core is off-limits to...adventurers," J'hana said, turning a dark grimace on Bradley. "Sure it is. That's why they call it risk! How can you take an authorized risk?" he turned back to Hartley. "I'm prepared to offer you this trip for a very reasonable price. I'd even offer my services as guide absolutely free." Bradley turned back to J'hana. "And you both could come. The more the merrier." J'hana considered what Bradley said thoughtfully. "So, Mr. Dillon. You say you are an expert in making preparations?" "Yes, ma'am!" "Then I have something for you to prepare for. Prepare to have your scrotum ripped off and crammed into your ears!" J'hana lunged across the table at Bradley and knocked him back to the floor. "Help!" Bradley cried, as J'hana pushed him into a dirt- filled circle at the center of the restaurant. It appeared to be a sandbox or a rock garden of some sort. "Mishtak!" one of the Andorian waiters cried out. "Gather everyone, and place your bets. Mishtak has begun!" Hartley squeezed past the gathering crowd and looked to the waiter. His nametag read "Baughb." "What's Mishtak?" "A traditional Andorian restaurant brawl. I told the manager that it would be useless to put in the Mishtak circle--that we didn't get many Andorians in here. But now I'm glad he didn't listen to me." Hartley watched in dismay as J'hana rammed sand into Bradley's mouth. "And what exactly is the point of this?" "The winner recieves a free meal," Baughb explained. "How nice." "Mercy! Mercy!" Bradley cried, scrambling out of the circle and darting off through the crowd. He slammed right into Lt. Commander Walter Morales, who had been attracted by all the noise. "What's the problem here?" Morales asked, looking down at Bradley and then over to J'hana, who dusted her uniform off with satisfaction. "That woman attacked me!" Bradley cried. "I was just trying to make conversation and she nearly killed me!" "Is that right, Lieutenant?" Morales asked, turning to J'hana. "According to Andorian by-laws, I responded to his challenge within the constraints of custom. And since the challenge was made in a restaurant, I am entitled to a free meal." "Right away," Baughb said, disappearing into the kitchen. "Well, I don't know much about Andorian law, but I know we don't condone brawls in any part of this station," Morales said. "This will be reported to your commanding officer." "I will try to recover from that, Commander," J'hana said, picking her seat up and sitting back down. "Now, Lieutenant Hartley, prepare to have an excellent meal." Morales raised a hand to say something else, but then decided to leave well enough alone. He turned on a heel and left the restaurant. "You haven't heard the last from me," Bradley said, as he scuttled back towards his store. "I plan on filing an official protest with the Federation council!" "Be gone, cretin!" J'hana shouted. "So, do you feel better now that that's out of your system, J'hana?" Hartley asked, watching Bradley scramble off with satisfaction. "Much better," J'hana said. She watched as the waiter lowered two dishes in front of them. Hartley looked down at the squirming, furry lump on her plate. It was drenched in some kind of milky yellow fluid. "What is this?" "Smothered Naardit," J'hana explained as she withdrew her ceremonial blade and cut into the furry lump, causing air to seep out of it with a puff. Hartley sniffed as the steam escaped and immediately thought she would be sick. "For Pete's sake, J'hana, it smells like raw sewage!" "Only when very fresh." J'hana picked up a fork and dug in. For her part, Hartley pushed the plate away and hurried over to the Sandwich Star. Captain Andy Baxter stepped out of the turbolift and gave a cursory look around Ops. "Can I help you?" a man in a blue-collared uniform asked from the science station. "I was looking for Commander Beck," Baxter said, looking the man over a moment. "Hey, I know you. Craig Porter!" Porter looked Baxter over a moment, perplexed. His eye caught on Baxter's captain's pips. "Can't say I remember you, Captain." "Baxter, Andy Baxter!" Porter looked down. "Not familiar." "We served on the same ship together for more than two years! And we came through here a few months ago and saved this system from Flarn annihilation. Doesn't any of that ring a bell?" "Well, I don't really have that great a memory." "Sure you do. I remember when we were on the Secondprize you used to memorize shield prefix codes as a hobby. It was amazing." "Yeah," Porter grunted, clearing his throat and adjusting his collar. "Well, that's numbers." "I'll take it from here, Craig," Commander Lisa Beck's calm voice said from behind Porter. The Lieutenant let out a long, relieved breath. "What do you want, Captain?" Beck asked, eying Baxter suspiciously. Baxter held up his hands in surrender. "Just to talk. Listen, I know when the Aerostar left here and got tossed to the Delta Quadrant we weren't on the best of terms, and I don't like being on anyone's bad side." Beck looked at Baxter thoughtfully and sighed, turning on a heel, gesturing toward her office. "Fine. C'mon." Lieutenant Sean Russell crossed over to the science console, watching as Baxter and Beck disappeared behind the doors of Beck's office. "What's he doing here?" "The Explorer's in for resupply and I guess Captain Baxter wants to make amends with the Commander." "Poor woman," Russell said, lowering his head in sadness. "What about me? I had to talk to him too." "Listen, their Chief Surgeon pulled skewers right out of my chest and walked away!" Porter examined his panel and then looked back up. "The whole crew is full of crackpots. Why do you think they were sent to the Delta Quadrant in the first place? Starfleet wanted to get rid of them." Russell nodded. "Yeah, well, I wonder what the chances are that they'll get lost again." "Don't hold your breath." "The usual, Commander?" Mirk asked, putting down the glass he was polishing as Commander Conway slumped into a seat at the bar. "Um, no. Uh, why don't you just make it a Yynsian herbal tea with a sprinkle of umgee root." Mirk staggered back, as if he was just hit with a phaser. "Excuse me? Herbal tea? Are you kidding? Commander, you've ordered the same thing for a year and a half. Why change now?" Conway shot Mirk a very serious look. "Man cannot live by coffee alone. Anyway, it's important to be open about your tastes. That's part of what exploration is all about." "Uh-huh. Commander, could you turn around real quick?" Conway dutifully slid off his barstool and turned around, then resumed his seat. "What was that for?" Mirk shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't have an alien neural parasite attached to your neck." "Enough funny stuff Mirk, just get the damn drink," Conway grumbled, pounding the bar in frustration. The Maloxian ducked down and called up the drink on the replicator. "There we go, that's the Commander Conway I know." Mirk pushed the steaming drink across the bar to Conway and moved down the length of the bar to help another customer, idly wondering what it was that possessed Conway to change his drink order. Whatever it was, it was serious business indeed. At that moment, Dr. Lana Shar, the Explorer's colony specialist, seated herself in front of Mirk, just a few stools down from Conway. "Hi, Mirk. I'll have a Yynsian herbal tea with a sprinkle of--" "--umgee root," Mirk finished. Suddenly it all seemed to make sense. "Yeah, how did you know?" Lana asked with interest. "Well, it was just--" Suddenly Mirk heard a loud, gutteral noise from the general vicinity of Commander Conway. "Over here, Mirk!" "--a hunch," Mirk finished, quickly handing Lana her drink and scuttling over to Commander Conway. The First Officer immediately grabbed Mirk by his wide collars and pulled him close. "Listen, I guess you know now why I ordered the herbal tea. Now I suggest you keep your little Maloxian mouth shut about it or I'll punt you out the nearest airlock. You get it?" Mirk pulled back, straightening his collar. "You're a deeply loving person, Commander." "Tell me about it," Conway said, picking up his drink quickly and scurrying over to where Lana was sitting. There was already a crewperson sitting in the left seat, so Conway darted for the right one, just as a young female yeoman slid into place on the stool. "Ahem," Conway said, burning a gaze down at the yeoman. "Yeoman Huffmann, I believe Lt. Tilleran requested your prescence in Science Lab Two to repair the analytic converter." "I just did that," Huffmann protested. "Well, go do it again!" Conway said, in the loudest whisper he could manage. Huffmann was about to object, but then she looked up and saw the burning anger in Conway's eyes. Without another word she slid out of the chair and made for the Cafe's exit. "Commander?" Lana said, turning. "I thought I heard your voice." Conway quickly dove into his seat and crossed his legs, trying to look as comfortable as possible. "Lana! I didn't know you were even sitting there. And how are you?" "Fine. You know, no complaints." "Refill anyone?" Mirk suddenly asked, appearing behind the bar near Lana and Commander Conway. "I know Commander Conway loves that herbal tea. He orders it all the time!" Conway cleared his throat again. "Mirk!" Lana just laughed. Mirk was about to reply, when suddenly he jerked backwards spasmodically into a row of bottles, then flailed forward toward Commander Conway and his mug. The Commander watched Mirk tumble toward him with concern. "Conway to Sickbay, Medical Emerg-ARRRRRRGGGGH!" Mirk slammed into Conway's mug, causing it to flip and dump its entire payload of herbal tea onto his crotch. Lana shook her head worriedly as Conway hit the ground. "That had to hurt." "Listen, Commander, I know our procedures might seem a little odd, but we're really very much the same," Baxter said, eying the model of the Secondprize on Beck's sparse desk as he talked. "How do you figure?" Beck asked dully, sliding a cup of coffee in front of Baxter and collapsing into her chair. "We're both Starfleet commanders...dedicated to duty, goodness, and the freedom of all God's little creatures!" Beck shook her head. Baxter sounded like a Public Service Announcement. "Spare me, Captain. I've read some of your Starfleet reports. They scare me. Why, the Beldana Two incident alone--" "Hey, why do people keep bringing that up? Men have needs! And that government official threw herself on me!" "--coupled with your complete disregard for the Prime Directive, and any other Starfleet rule you come across." Beck scrolled through a data padd which presumably carried some of the reports. "You murdered the leader of a tribe of penguin people!" "Now that wasn't my fault. The runabout was out of control!" "You lost your first officer in the Nexus Ribbon!" "But we got him back! And had a nice breakfast on top of that!" Beck kept scrolling. "Your ship was embedded in a planet?" "It was a dimensional kind of thing!" "Your whole crew was driven insane by some kind of cloud?" "I wasn't even there for that. You'll have to talk to Commander Conway about--" "You created an assistant--in a laboratory?" "Don't even get me started," Baxter said with a shake of his head. "Listen, I've been over all of this before with Starfleet Admirals and fellow officers. If you take a good look at the records of both the Explorer and the Aerostar, you'll see we really did accomplish a lot of good. We stabilized an entire quadrant for God's sake." "By calling in the Borg?" "That wasn't my idea, trust me." "The fact that a man like you can be put in command of a starship--one that's crewed by people who clearly have no business aboard a starship in the first place--scares me, Captain." "Hey, the Secondprize wasn't exactly the most competent ship in the fleet," Baxter countered. "I never said it was. But at least over there...well, there was some kind of order. Some kind of sense." "We have sense and order. I think you're just getting the wrong idea--" "Browning to Baxter," Baxter's comm badge chirped. Beck rolled her eyes at this. Her experience with Browning in the Food Court a year and a half ago was not pleasant. "Baxter here. What do you want, Doctor?" "I just thought you might want to know that Mirk is in some kind of coma over here, and Commander Conway has second-and third-degree burns all over his crotch." "I see," Baxter said, looking to Beck, who shot him an "I told you so" look. "Well, can you figure out what's wrong with Mirk?" "Not yet, only that there's a great amount of activity in his cerebral cortex. I'm not sure, but it may have to do with his powers." "Powers?" Beck asked. "Our bartender has certain...special abilities," Baxter said, returning to his conversation with Browning. "Put an ice pack on the Commander and keep me informed on Mirk's condition." "Aye, sir. Browning out." "You were saying?" Beck asked. Baxter raised a finger to speak, when another comm badge bleeped. This time it was Beck's. "Morales to Beck. Commander, there's something I think you should be made aware of." "Go ahead," Beck said with a sigh. "One of Captain Baxter's officers, a Lieutenant J'hana, was just involved in a disturbance at the Andorian restaurant in the food court." "Mishtak, huh?" "Uh, yes, Ma'am. How did you-" "I had an Andorian roomate at the Academy. Who was the unlucky Mishtakee?" "Bradley Dillon. He says he's going to file a complaint with the Federation Council." "Tell Mr. Dillon to take a close look at the sign in front of the Andorian restaurant. It clearly warns all customers about the Mishtak custom. Tell him to chalk it up to a...cultural misunderstanding." "Yes, ma'am. Morales out." "Commander, I'm very sorry about--" "Save it, Captain," Beck said, standing up. "Listen, I'll be frank. I don't like you. And I don't care much for your command style. But I do understand that it takes all kinds to make up this Fleet. Including agressive Andorians and Doctors with voracious appetites." "Does that mean we can be friends?" "No," Beck said flatly. "It means I won't press charges against your officer. And just be thankful for that." "Porter to Beck. Commander, I think you and Captain Baxter better get out here quick..." "What is it, Lieutenant?" Beck asked. "I think you'd better see this one for yourself, Commander." "Sheesh, it's one thing after another around here," Baxter said casually. The look Beck shot him stopped him from saying anything more. "At first I thought the sensors had just malfunctioned," Porter explained, as Baxter and Beck examined the swirling melange on the main screen in Ops. "But it's no malfunction, Commander. The Bermuda Expanse has reappeared." "How is this possible?" Beck asked, without looking back at Porter. "I don't know. It shouldn't be. The entire sector underwent a gravitic inversion seconds after the Aerostar came back through it six months ago. The Expanse was, for all intents and purposes, destroyed." "Maybe someone from the other side reactivated it," Baxter offered. "Someone like the Flarn," Beck said, her eyes becoming wide with anger as she turned to Baxter. "Russell, open an emergency channel to Starfleet Command and fill them in immediately." "Hey, don't look at me like this is my fault," Baxter said. Before Beck could reply, another alarm sounded at Walker's station. "Commander, something's coming out of the Bermuda Expanse!" "Damn it," Beck cursed under her breath. "Go to Red Alert and put up the shields." "Aye, sir," Russell replied. "Russel, activate all weapons arrays." "Done, Commander." Baxter squinted at the silvery object that began to emerge from the Bermuda Expanse. "That's no Flarn ship, Commander. Can we magnify that image?" Beck gave a nod back to Porter. "Do it." "Magnifying and enchancing..." Porter repoted. "Sweet fancy Moses!" Baxter cried, staggering back against the deck railing. "Porter, confirm I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing!" Beck said, looking back to the science station. Porter looked up from his panel. "Sensors confirmed. Federation Starship, Nebula class. NCC-83835. It's the Aerostar." "Deja vu..." Russell said quietly. :) CHAPTER TWO Beep-eep. Dr. Shar looked up from her reports. She had just arrived from the Constellation Cafe, and hadn't had five minutes to work before being interrupted. "Enter." A portly man in a dapper suit came through the doors to the Trill's office, clumsily knocking into her statue of the Breen Tiki God. To Lana, he looked well-dressed but a bit disheveled, as if he'd recently been in some kind of accident or something. "Whoops, sorry," the man said, righting the statue and touching it lightly. His eyes grew wide as he evaluated it. "This is an excellent piece, Dr. Shar." "Do I know you?" Lana asked, looking the stranger up and down. "You do now." He offered a hand. "Dillon. Bradley Dillon. President and CEO of Dillon Enterprises...a multipurpose organization." "Is that so?" Lana asked, shaking Bradley's hand limply. "Well, Mr. Dillon, if I'm not mistaken, they just called for an alert on the station, and on this ship. How on Earth did you get in here?" "I have my ways. Listen, that's not important. What is important is that I happen to know that you're the Federation colony specialist assigned to the Explorer. And as such, I bet you have access to all kinds of great information. Valuable information." "What do you mean?" This man was talking like a Ferengi. "I have access to some interesting artifacts, and some planetary scans. That's all." "Well, that's exactly what I'm looking for. Ameteur explorers come through the station every day, wanting a piece of the 'real thing.' And how much closer to the real thing can you get than what's aboard this ship? I think you and I can be of great use to one another." Bradley narrowed his eyes at Lana and shot her a sly smile. "Now let's have a look at some of those artifacts." Lana considered the human with great interest. At least showing him her collection would be a way to bide time until they got back out to the Galactic Rim. "Ship...coming through...Bermuda Expanse...Directors!" Mirk mumbled, as the sensors on his biobed kept track of his vitals. "What are you trying to tell us, Mirk?" Browning asked, hunching over the Maloxian and examining his brain with a handheld scanner. "Is the ship in trouble?" "Directors..." Mirk continued to mutter as he twisted and turned on the biobed. "Are the Directors in trouble, boy? What's wrong with them?" Browning asked again. "Come on, spit it out, Mirk!" "Inside-out...twisted...wrong universe." Mirk continued to writhe. "Anything?" Nurse Holly Carter asked, observing Mirk from the other side of the biobed. "Gibberish, as far as I can tell," Browning said, checking the biobed readings. "His brain looks like it's been through a cuisinart." "Hmmm," Holly said, examining the readings. "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands! If you're happy and you know it and you really want to show it, if you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!" Mirk sang. "He's bonkers," Holly concluded. Browning rubbed her chin thoughtfully as she looked Mirk over. "There's only one more thing I can try to bring him out of it, but it's risky." "What is it, Doctor?" Browning didn't reply, she just hauled back and slapped Mirk in the face as hard as she could. "Wake up, numbnut!" Mirk suddenly shot up, looking around as if he just notcied Browning and Holly were in the room. "Doctor, the Aerostar has returned. I have to get to the bridge." With that, the Maloxian slid off the bed and bolted for the door to Sickbay. "Glad I could help," Browning waved as Mirk shot out the doors. Commander Conway emerged from the turbolift and waddled as fast as he could to the command chair. "Are you okay, Commander?" Larkin asked, as she vacated the command chair and headed for ops. "No," Conway huffed, sitting down as gently as he could in the command chair. "I spilled some hot herbal tea on my crotch." This sent Lt. Ford into a bout of uncontrollable laughter. "As you were, Lieutenant!" Conway shouted. "Larkin, put that ship on the screen." "Aye, sir," Larkin said, pressing some controls at her station. "A blast from the past," Ford said brightly, watching as the Aerostar loomed closer. Conway turned gingerly towards Tilleran. "What do we know about that ship, Tilleran?" "Based on what the combined sensors of Waystation and the Explorer can determine, that is the USS Aerostar..." "But the Aerostar was destroyed..." Conway interrupted. "I wasn't finished. That is the USS Aerostar, but not of our Federation or our Starfleet." "Then what the hell Federation is it from?" Conway asked. "According to my interpretation of its ID code, the Federation of Fun," Tilleran said. Conway slapped a hand against his forehead. "I should have known. The happy universe." "Yes, sir. The frequency of the trace from their warp engines tends to suggest that as well." "They are approaching the station at a speed of one- quarter impulse," Larkin reported, looking up from her scans. "They should arrive within twenty minutes." "Contact Waystation and ask Commander Beck how she wants to proceed. And find the Captain," Conway said, "because I sure as hell don't want to deal with these nutcases." "Something wrong, Captain?" Beck asked wryly. "It looks like you've just seen a ghost." "I think I have," Baxter said slowly. "The Explorer's science officer agrees with my hypothesis," Porter said. "We are definitely looking at a vessel from the alternate happy universe we encountered last year." "We also encountered an alternate happy Aerostar last year," Baxter said thoughtfully. "One of my officers was exchanged for the alternate one by a transporter accident." "So we've established that we know where this ship is from." Beck folded her arms. "But why is it here?" Lt. Hartley and Lt. J'hana had just returned from Waystation when they recieved the call from Commander Conway. Hartley and J'hana quickly left the transporter room in order to find out what was going on. As soon as they were out the door, however, they were slammed into by a running Maloxian. "Need I remind you that there is no running allowed in the Explorer's corridors?" J'hana asked angrily, as Mirk helped her and Hartley up. "Sorry about that," Mirk said sheepishly. "Where are you going in such a hurry?" Hartley asked, dusting off her rear end as she and J'hana followed Mirk into a turbolift. "Bridge," Mirk said, prompting the turbolift to swish quickly upward. "What a coincidence," Hartley said. "Commander Conway just called me and J'hana up there. Do you know what this is all about?" "Unfortunately," Mirk sighed. "Mind telling us?" "Oh, you'll find out soon enough." J'hana grimaced. "I do not like the sound of that." "They're hailing us," Lt. Russell announced from tactical. Beck glanced over at Baxter. "Do you want to do the honors, or should I?" "It's your station," Baxter replied. "It's your ship. Kind of." "You're in command here." "You outrank me." Baxter straightened and pulled the bottom of his uniform down a bit. "Okay, fine. I'll talk to them, for what it's worth. Put 'em on screen, Mr. Russell." The viewscreen in ops crackled to life as a picture of the approaching vessel was replaced with a very familiar face. "Commander Conway?" Baxter asked, noticing how strange Conway's uniform looked. It was black, with a scattering of pink--only vaguely similar to that of Baxter's universe. "Captain Conway. But you can call me Davey-wavey," the man on the screen corrected. "What in Happyness' name are you doing over there, Lieutenant Baxter?" "Captain Baxter," Baxter corrected. "Listen, Captain, I think we have a bit of a mix-up here." "You can say that again. Playstation doesn't look anything like we remember it." "That's because this isn't...Playstation," Baxter said with exasperation. "Captain, you've somehow wound up in an alternate universe." "Damn. That would explain the ugly uniforms you're wearing. Maybe it would be best if I could meet with you. We have a lot to talk about." "Well, I...uh," Baxter stammered, looking over to Beck. Beck threw her hands up. "Don't look at me." "Sure," Baxter said. "You're cleared to dock at this station. We'll send you coordinates where you can beam aboard and we can discuss this whole alternate universe thing." "Thank you Captain." Davey-wavey's eyes wandered over to Beck. "And keep that oversexed lunatic clear of us, if you please." Baxter glanced over at Beck with a raised eyebrow. "Seems you've made quite a name for yourself in that alternate universe." "Don't remind me. Cut the channel, Russell," Beck grumbled. Lt. Hartley stopped short as soon as she saw the ship on the viewscreen. She stopped so quickly that Mirk and J'hana slammed right into her. "That's not the...no, it can't be." Mirk weaved his way around Hartley as she took up a place at the engineering station, while J'hana relieved the ensign at tactical. "It is. It's the Aerostar." "How?" Hartley asked, staring at it with wonder. "You should know," Conway said, glaring up at Hartley. "You were there." "Oh no, oh no, oh no," Hartley said softly. "Oh yes," Conway said. "And some of their crew is going to meet with Captain Baxter and Commander Beck. And the Captain has asked that you beam over and talk to them, since you're the only one of our crew that's actually had contact with them." "I want to go too," Mirk said. "I need to talk to them." "Well, I don't know--" Suddenly a padd flew across the bridge and smacked into the back of Conway's head. "Sorry about that," Mirk said sheepishly. Conway grumbled angrily, rubbing his head. "Fine, Mirk. Get out of here. And stop using your powers to throw stuff at people." "No promises. C'mon, Megan," Mirk said, dragging Hartley back into the turbolift. "His aim's really improving," Tilleran noted from the science station. "Muzzle it," Conway grunted. Captain Baxter watched the group coalesce at the other end of the conference room with a growing sense of dread. He'd heard reports of other Starfleet officers who'd dealt with alternate universes, and it was always a big mess. He wasn't looking forward to whatever he'd find himself sucked into. Captain Conway stepped forward as soon as he materialized. "Captain Baxter. Nice to make your acquaintance." Baxter walked over, Beck and Russell at his side. He wasn't looking at Davey-wavey at all. The officer next to him was what had caught his attention. "This is my Chief of Operations, Lt. Andy Baxter." "Hello," the other Baxter said with a grin. "You must be Andy Baxter." "Nice hair," Beck said, covering the grin that was rapidly spreading across her face. Andy-wandy patted his perm with love. "I thought it was time for a change, and this seemed to be the way to go." Davey-wavey indicated the android next to him. "And this is my second in command, Lt. Commander Larky." Captain Baxter eyed the android skeptically. She didn't have quite the same stoic intelligence that his Larky had. "Pleasure to meet you," Larky said. A compartment in the top of her head opened and a robotic hand emerged, intent on shaking Baxter's hand. Baxter shook the robotic appendage, which promptly disappeared back into Larky's head. "Likewise." "If you'll have a seat, we can get to matters at hand," Beck said, ushering Davey-wavey, Larky, and Andy-wandy to their seats. She cast a glance back at Captain Baxter. "If that's okay with his Captainness?" "Quiet, Beck," Baxter muttered under his breath, moving around to the other side of the table. She was enjoying this way too much. "Grant to Russell. There are two people out here claiming to be from Captain Baxter's ship. They say it's urgent that they get through." Russell looked to Baxter. "Captain?" "Let 'em in," Baxter said. He knew Hartley was coming, but he was wondering who the other person was. Moments later, Ensign Grant ushered Lt. Hartley and Mr. Mirk into the room. "Watch where you put that hand, big guy!" Hartley grunted, wrenching herself free of Mumford's grip. "Meggy," Davey-wavey said happily, looking up at Hartley. "Here we go again," Hartley sighed. "What are you doing here, Mr. Mirk? Shouldn't you be in Sickbay or something?" Baxter asked, directing Hartley to a seat at his left. Mirk approached Baxter's seat urgently. "Sir, I had a powerful vision just before they--" he pointed to Davey- wavey and his officers, "--came through. Sir, there's something very wrong with the Directors." "The Directors?" Captain Conway asked with interest. "The beings who control the Bermuda Expanse," Mirk said, turning to Davey-wavey. "What did you do to them?" Davey-wavey sighed heavily. "If you mean the strange occupants of that cloud, I regret that we had to expose them to the Happyness beam." "The Joegonotizing ray?" Baxter asked. "What effect did that have?" "The normal effects," Andy-wandy said with a smile. "It made them happy." "It didn't make them happy at all!" Mirk shouted. "It drove them insane! And it's the exact reason you all ended up here instead of in your own universe!" "Calm yourself, Mr. Mirk," Baxter said. "Why don't you just have a seat and we can sort this whole thing out." "Captain, allow me to explain," Davey-wavey said calmly. "When your Lt. Hartley crossed over to our world a year ago, she enacted a series of events that changed our vessel forever. She was able to adjust the polarity of Counselor Kelly-bell's 'mood stabilizer' to shift everyone's brain patterns to those of Maloxians--" "By the Directors," Mirk said quietly. "--thereby nullifying the effects of the Happyness beam," Davey-wavey continued. "Unfortunately, some officers were so far gone they could not be saved. I was able to stir up a revolt among the crew, overthrow Captain Riker, and take command." "Wow. I succeeded," Hartley said in awe. Davey-wavey smiled. "Yes, you did. And you made some marvelous things happen for my crew and me." "Marvelous things?" Baxter raised an eyebrow. "Watch this," Davey-wavey said, concentrating on the vase of flowers at the center of the table. The vase lifted off the table and glided toward Baxter, coming to a soft landing right in front of him. "You have my powers!" Mirk's eyes went wide. "We believe that the beam has refined them, and brought them into focus," Davey-wavey said. "In short, they've made some of my crew more than a match for the psychological powers of Happymaster Dillon and the Counselors." "That could be a huge gain for the rebellion," Beck said, from her place next to Baxter. "That's why we had to return," Davey-wavey said. "So we could help out the resistance in whatever way possible." "Why did it take you so long?" Hartley asked. "We had to undo the damage we did in the Delta Quadrant first," Davey-wavey explained. "We put the Sulani and Maloxians back to normal and enlisted their support." "You didn't put the Flarn back to normal, did you?" Baxter asked frightfully. "Do I look that stupid?" Davey-wavey asked. "We left them happy, for eveyone's sake. Anyway, we have a fleet waiting near the Crebius Cluster in the Delta Quadrant. All we have to do is contact them and tell them we made it here safely." "You may find that easier said than done," Mirk said. "If I'm right, the only place the Bermuda Expanse will take you right now is your universe. You guys seriously screwed up the portal." "That would be unfortunate," Lt. Commander Larky said. "Captain, you must help us restore the portal to normal and get us back to our universe. If we can overthrow Emperor Webber, we can finally turn our quadrant in the right direction." Baxter looked to Beck, then to Hartley and Mirk. "We'll certainly do all we can to help you, Captain Conway. Our science officers are at your disposal." "One thing troubles me," Beck said. "What happened to the people you couldn't convert?" "Oh, them," Davey-wavey said quietly, looking to Andy- wandy. Baxter's double shrugged. "They're pretty much taken care of." "This is ludicrous!" Counselor Kelly-bell Peterman shrieked, pounding against the electronic field around the brig angrily. "I must be set free." "If you don't shut up," Lt. B'nana said, turning to face Kelly-bell on the other side of the field. "I'll come in there and kill you." "In your dreams," Kelly-bell scoffed. B'nana growled in Kelly-bell's face, causing the field to spark disturbingly. "Since I was freed of your mind- control device, I have grown quite angry at what you and the other Counselors have done to Starfleet. I would be more than happy to take out my anger on you." "You and what army, you blue bitch?" "That is it!" B'nana shouted, throwing down the field and jumping through the doorway, piledriving into Kelly-bell. "You are a dead woman!" "I'm distracting her!" Kelly-bell shouted to her bunkmate. "Do your thing!" Lt. Tilly jumped off the bed and lunged for the device on B'nana's belt clip. B'nana turned to grab the device and was met with a swift roundhouse kick from Kelly-bell. "Do it, Tilly!" Kelly-bell cried, slamming a fist into B'nana's face and pushing her to the ground. Tilly quickly inserted the device into the collar that was around her neck and snapped it off. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for this?" The Betazoid's black eyes grew bright neon green as she turned on B'nana and fired a brillant bolt of energy at her. The Andorian was slammed against the wall. Kelly-bell ran over to Tilly and hugged her tightly. "We're back, Tilly! We're back!" "No time for celebration," Chrissie Richards said as Tilly's eyes returned to normal. "We have to get the others and get the hell out of here." Kelly-bell kicked the unconcious Andorian one more time and followed Chrissie and Tilly out the door. "I can't wait to see what's happened to the Federation since we left." :) CHAPTER THREE "And this is a locust-catcher from Dalban Two," Dr. Shar said, indicating the large blue box at the center of the arhaeology lab. "The ancient Dalbanians used it to protect their crops." "Very interesting. But not profitable. What do you have in the way of precious metals?" Bradley asked, eying the box and turning back to Lana. "Listen, Mr. Dillon," Lana said, turning to Bradley angrily, "I will be more than happy to show you some of these artifacts, but I'm not about to sell you Federation property just so you can make a tidy profit!" "And why not?" "Because, it's just not...not right!" "Oh, come on, it wouldn't be that bad." Bradley edged closer to Lana. "I take it you're the kind of person who always imagines what it would be like to do something unseemly, but never has the guts to carry it through." "Mr. Dillon, I have had just about enough of you." Lana grabbed the portly man by an arm and dragged him out of the lab. "Now I'm going to escort you back to the airlock you came from and I don't want to see you back on this ship, unless you're on your way to the brig!" "You really have no vision, Doctor," Bradley said uneasily, as Lana shoved him out into the corridor. Tilly slammed a fist into the panel near the Aerostar's airlock door. "I just accessed the computer systems here. This is not Playstation. As a matter of fact, this cannot even be our universe!" "Then what universe is this?" Kelly-bell asked angrily, looking around with skepticism. "If I had to guess, I'd say it's the one that Meggy Hartley traded with last year." "The one that f***ed everything up?" Kelly-bell asked. "What I wouldn't give to..." "Revenge can wait!" Tilly cried. "We have to get out of here, and fast. This place is a hotbed for Federation officers. We won't be safe here for long." "I agree," Chrissie Richards said from behind Kelly-bell. He rubbed her shoulders lovingly. "Maybe we can access one of the vessels that's docked here." Kelly-bell ran hands through her long, dark hair. "Okay, go for it, Tilly." Tilleran squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm searching...yes! We're in luck. I've found doubles of us...very close." "What about that damned Hartley?" "She's on the station," Tilleran said. "But the others are on a nearby starship." "I'll come back for her later then. We'll take this whole damned station in due time," Kelly-bell said, gesturing for her other officers to creep out of the airlock. "Come on, everyone! Lead the way, Tilly!" Dr. Browning strolled into Engineering, nodding at Ensign Stuart as she approached the door to Lt. Commander Richards's office and pressed the call button. "Come on in," Richards's voice called out. Browning stepped in and tossed a padd onto Richards's desk. "There it is, honey. The perfect cake." Richards put his sketch pad aside and examined Browning's padd. "Wow, Janice. It's very...um, big." "It's a WEDDING cake, silly, it's supposed to be big." "But it's the size of a person!" "A very small person. An adolescent kid." "And it's almost as wide!" Browning folded her arms defiantly. "Well, there will be plenty of guests." Richards recalled the guest list on his terminal. "Don't I know. You've invited half the quadrant, Janice. I was kind of shooting for a quiet wedding, you know, close friends and relatives. As it is, we'll have to rent out the main auditorium on Deck Twenty-three." "I want a big wedding, and darn it I'm going to have a big wedding," Browning said. "Come on, Janice, I really think we can trim the list a little bit. You've got the Chief Medical Officer from the Madison on here. How long has it been since you've talked to her?" "Me and Casey talk almost every month." "Then what ship is she on now?" Richards challenged. "Um...the Greensboro?" "No, she transferred to the Yorktown three months ago. I found that out when I tried to send the invitation. And what about Ezri Dax?" "Um...you know why she's invited, Christopher.' Richards rolled his eyes. "You were only eighteen when you dated Curzon. Isn't there some Trill rule where you can't associate with new hosts? Dax has been through two since it was Curzon." "I don't care. We're still very close." All sorts of uncomfortable images scrolled through Richards's mind. "Listen, either you trim the guest list, or I'm inviting Elliot Finglass." "Not your Starfleet Academy roomate!" Browning cried in horror. She'd heard stories from Richards about the cadet that had replaced Chris Henricks after that whole "Larkin" incident. No way he was coming to her wedding. "Cut the list down to a hundred people or Hurricane Elliot will touch down here on May 19th." "Okay, okay, you've twisted my arm," Browning said woefully. "A hundred people it is." "I knew you'd see it my way," Richards smiled, pulling Browning into his lap. "Now help me design the ice sculpture for the reception." "Stop pushing, I'll go, I'll go," Bradley protested, as Dr. Shar dragged him down the corridor towards the airlock. "I've seen some con artists in my day, but you take the cake, Mr. Dillon," Lana said angrily as she stabbed the airlock button. "I'm really not that bad a guy," Bradley said, "I just want to make a living." "Tell it to someone who cares." Lana suddenly heard talking in the airlock. Someone was evidently coming through. "It's a Galaxy-class," a voice said with wonder. "We should be able to access its systems through Main Engineering. That's about ten decks down from here." "Lieutenant Tilleran?" Lana asked as the door whisked open. Peterman and Tilleran looked Lana over. "Hello...you," Peterman said. "What are you guys doing in those wierd outfits?" Lana asked. Something was definitely wrong. Tilleran and Peterman pushed by. "Don't worry about it," Tilleran said quickly. Sensing that something was amiss, Lana tapped her comm badge. "Shar to security. There's--" Suddenly Tilleran's head whipped back around, green eyes plunging into Bradley and Lana. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." "Erg--" Bradley said, dropping to his knees. Before Lana could say anything, her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed on top of Bradley. "Find a closet and shove them in. We'll deal with them later," Peterman ordered. "We've got bigger fish to fry right now." "We've got to get the Bermuda Expanse put back in order, or these folks will be stuck here forever," Baxter said grimly from the viewscreen on the bridge of the Explorer. "I think the problem is even worse than that, Captain," Tilleran said from the science station. "Everything I've seen so far leads me to believe that what's happened to the Bermuda Expanse is two-sided." "Do you mean to tell me we're open to attack from that other universe?" "I'm afraid so, Captain." Conway sat back in the command chair and folded his arms. "Then we have to put it back the way it was, sir. We have enough problems as it is without having a warped Federation breathing down our necks." "I agree, Commander," Baxter said. "Lt. Tilleran, I'd like you to beam over and coordinate your efforts with Lt. Porter and his science staff. Maybe the two of you could--" Suddenly a loud alert siren screamed through the bridge. "Richards to bridge," came Richards's voice over the comm. "We just had a spike in the warp core. Our containment fields are fluctuating and I don't think I can keep them up for long." Conway shot up in the command chair. "What are you telling me, Richards?" "I'm telling you the Explorer is going to explode in less than five minutes! We need to separate the ship now!" Baxter's eyes went wide on the viewscreen as he heard this new information. "Commander! You have to get clear of the station!" Beside Baxter, Beck barked orders at the man at the docking console. "Release docking clamps on the Explorer immediately!" "Lt. Ford," Conway said quickly. "On it, Commander!" Ford said, jerking the Explorer into impulse speed and steering it away from Waystation. Conway snapped on the all-call button. "All hands, this is Commander Conway. The warp core will breach in less than five minutes. All hands report to designated safe-areas immediately. The ship will be separated as soon as everyone is clear. Please be calm and file in an orderly...ah, you know the damned drill. GET MOVING!" Nurse Holly Carter scrambled with the few patients that were in Sickbay, heaving them onto the anti-gravs and shoving them out the Sickbay doors. "Dean, come on!" Crewman Wilcox slung Ensign Dawson over his shoulder, since her broken leg hadn't quite healed yet. "Coming, Ha- ha!" Carter noted that Dean was getting quite close to being able to pronounce her name, from "Humma" to "Ha-ha." Or maybe he was just laughing, she wasn't quite sure. "Careful! I break easily!" Dawson protested as Dean lugged her out of Sickbay. "Quiet girl will get a present!" Dean said happily, smacking Dawson on the rear end as he helped Nurse Carter and the other med-techs push the patients to a nearby turbolift. Carter had almost made it to the turbolift when a pack of screaming kids flew by her, knocking her into Ensign Sanchez, who had been in a coma for almost three weeks due to cranial trauma from slamming his head into one too many Engineering bulkheads. "Who the hell are all these kids?" Carter asked as she gathered up Ensign Sanchez and shoved him back onto the cart. "Kindergarten class," Lt. Gellar explained, shoving kid after kid into a vertical pile in the turbolift. "On a field trip from Earth. Guess who gets to be their chaperone?" "Well, we've got sick patients here that need to be evacuated." "Shove 'em in," Gellar said as he wrenched a teddy bear from some poor little girl's hand. "Sorry, kiddo. Mr. Fluffers here has got to go. Living beings only." "NOOOOOOO!" the kid yelped. "Mr. Fluffers can't die!" "Mr. Fluffers was never alive in the first place, sizzlechest. Now get in the freaking turbolift!" Gellar cried, cramming the kid into the lift. Carter sighed and hauled the leaden body of Ensign Sanchez into the cramped turbolift, grabbing Ensign Dawson and shoving her after him. "Hey, watch it!" Dawson said, as a five-year old Starfleet Scout shoved his elbow into her side. "This is going to be fun," Carter said sarcastically, pushing Dean into the lift and sucking in a breath, leaving just enough room for the doors to close. As the lift slowly sighed its way up through the Explorer's innards, she idly wondered where Dr. Browning was. Captain Baxter watched the Explorer angle away on the viewscreen nervously, fearing what might happen to Counselor Peterman and the others. "Lt. Porter," Beck said from behind Baxter. "How long until they reach a safe distance?" Porter did the calculations. "About three minutes." "Raise the shields just in case, and order that the Aerostar do the same. I don't want to take any chances." Baxter watched woefully as the Explorer moved away. "I only had her for six months..." "You've certainly got a way with starships, Captain." Beck let out a tiny, stressed giggle from behind Baxter. Counselor Peterman tumbled out of the turbolift, her hair clinging around her face in wet, dark clumps. "Did I hear right? Is the ship going to explode?" "Your timing is impeccable, Counselor," Conway said from the command chair. "I was stepping out of the shower when the alert came," Peterman explained. "Have a seat and watch the fireworks," Conway replied. "How long, Tilleran?" Tilleran looked up from her panel. "Two minutes, sir." "Is everyone clear yet?" Conway asked, drumming his fingers on the arms of his chair. "Not as yet," J'hana replied. "I am reading ten lifeforms still remaining on the stardrive section." "Where?" Conway asked with irritation. "Two on Deck Twenty-six and eight down in Main Engineering." "They may have been knocked unconscious somehow," Peterman suggested. "Lock onto them with the transporter and get them the hell out of there," Conway ordered. Tilleran pounded her panel in frustration. "No good, sir. I can't get a lock with all the radiation coming from the warp core." Conway stabbed a button on the command chair. "Bridge to Engineering: Richards, you have to get out of there!" "Not enough time!" Richards replied. "You have to leave us!" "But--" Conway said. "No buts! I don't know how much longer I can keep these fields up. You have to go now!" Peterman looked up from her side-console. "Dr. Browning is down there with him and Stuart...and there are some lifesigns the computer can't quite identify!" Conway let out a long sigh. "They're not going to be lifesigns for much longer. Larkin, initiate saucer sep now." "Aye, Commander," Larkin said emotionlessly. "Janice..." Peterman said quietly. Captain Baxter watched the viewscreen in Ops in stunned silence as the magnetic locks pulled back from the top of the stardrive section. The saucer lifted up into space with a small puff of released gas and space particles. The stardrive section then listed backwards as the saucer engaged its impulse engines and angled away at a steady clip of full impulse. Baxter clenched his hand into a tight fist as the saucer sped away. "Come on, guys...get out of there!" "Warp core breach in less than thirty seconds!" Porter called out. "Will the saucer section have enough time to get clear?" Beck asked. "They should be okay...it depends on the magnitude of the blast, how much deuterium and anti-deuterium is in there..." Captain Baxter held his breath. "We're at forty thousand kilometers, sir," Ford reported. Commander Conway leaned forward. "All power to structural integrity and aft shields." "They're losing warp containment!" Tilleran called out. "Warp core breach in five...four..." Peterman tightened her fingers around her seat as she watched the stardrive section tumble away on the screen. "Three...two...one..." The counselor covered her eyes, prepared for the imminent wave of blinding light that was about to hit the bridge. A few moments later, Peterman lowered her arms and stared at the stardrive section on the screen. It was still intact. "Warp core levels returning to nominal," Tilleran said from the science station, staring at the readings in disbelief. "Commander, I don't understand. A minute ago they were about to--" Suddenly, the stardrive's impulse engines fired up, stopping its clumsy listing and turning it on a course away from Waystation and the saucer section. "What the hell?" Conway asked, snapping his head back to look at Tilleran. "Good question, sir." "You did it, Commander," Kelly-bell said with a broad smile, wrapping her arms around Lt. Commander Richards's neck and giving him a long, passionate kiss. "You don't think I overdramatized towards the end?" Richards asked, as he turned back to look at the warp core with satisfaction. "I mean really, 'You have to go now'? Don't you think that was a bit much?" "It was perfect, Chrissie," Kelly-bell said. "Now we have to get to the battle bridge and take full control." "What about these little annoyances," Chrissie asked. "Shall we kill them?" The other Lt. Commander Richards fought at the electronic bonds that had him, Browning, and Stuart bound together. "You may be a handsome fella, but you're not very nice!" "That's because I'm evil!" Chrissie said happily, as suddenly a huge beard erupted around the bottom half of his face. "And since I'm an evil villain, I must have an evil beard!" "What a wacko," Browning said. "You look more like a lumberjack," Stuart said. "Enough!" Kelly-bell cried. "Bri-Bri, Fresca, take these three and put them in the brig." "Yes, Counselor," Lt. Bri-Bri Gellar said, as he and Fresca dragged the unwilling prisoners out of engineering at phaserpoint. "Wait a minute!" Browning said. "Fresca?" She eyed the Bajoran suspiciously. "But you're--" "A loyal officer of the Federation of Fun!" Fresca said, winking at Browning. "I couldn't possibly be anything else. And don't you forget it." "You tell her, Fresca," Gellar said, as he lugged the group into the turbolift, shoving a phaser into their backs. "Now let's be nice and cordial on the way up, or I'll fry the lot of you." "B'nana, I expect a good explanation for this," Captain Conway said sternly, looking up at the very unsettled Andorian on the viewscreen in Ops. "Kelly-bell jumped me, and Tilly got my key to the mental collar. That's the last thing I saw before I was blasted into the wall." "Damn! The psychoblast..." Conway said fearfully. "Are you all right?" "I will live," J'hana said shakily. "Psychoblast?" Baxter asked from behind Conway. "What the hell is a psychoblast?" "I'll explain later. Right now we have to find your ship. If Peterman and the others succeed in taking it back to our universe, they could use it to do all kinds of damage." Baxter looked to Mirk, who had taken up a position next to Lt. Porter at the science station. "Mr. Mirk?" "It's possible, Captain. The Bermuda Expanse has become a two-way portal between our universes. All they have to do is fly through." Beck looked back to Russell. "Lieutenant, what is the position of the Explorer's stardrive now?" "They'll reach the Bermuda Expanse in about fifteen minutes." "We have to go after them," Baxter said, turning to Conway. "What condition is the Aerostar in? Will she stand up to a beating?" "She's all we've got, Captain. Let's hope so," Conway said, shaking Baxter's hand vigorously. "Let's go. The longer we wait the farther away they'll get." "You know, I like you a lot more than your counterpart," Baxter said, tapping his comm badge. "Baxter to Conway. I'm going after the Explorer." "What the hell do you expect me to do until you get back? Twiddle my thumbs?" Baxter shook his head. "No, I need you to protect the civilians here and keep an eye out for any intruders from the other universe that might try to come through the Bermuda Expanse." "And all I have for protection is a remodeled space station and a powerless saucer section?" "You're catching on," Baxter replied wryly. "Starfleet won't be able to get support out here in less than two days, so you're on your own." "Just peachy. And I suppose you'll also want Lt. Tilleran here to find a way to repair the Bermuda Expanse?" "Wouldn't hurt," Baxter said with a shrug. He pointed at Hartley and Mirk. "You two are with me. Let's move, Captain Conway." Beck stood in the way of the turbolift as the group moved toward it. "Wait a second. I'm coming with you." "Don't you think your place is here with the station?" Baxter asked, then added, "Not flying around with someone as unlucky and idiotic as myself?" "Our first officers can take care of the situation without me. Besides, I have a score to settle with my counterpart." "Okeydoke," Baxter said, ducking into the turbolift. "But don't say I didn't warn you. Things could get wierd." "I'm counting on it," Beck said wryly. "Mr. Morales, you have Ops." "The Aerostar is moving off," J'hana said from tactical. "Just great," Conway griped, gulping down a mug of coffee. "That leaves me here to babysit a saucer section full of kindergartners." Peterman tugged at her matty hair fitfully. "Well, at least your boyfriend isn't aboard." "Yep," Conway said, starry-eyed. "My boyfriend is right here. Right, Ford?" "Hey!" Ford said. "I resent that remark." "Stop trying to hide your emotions, Lieutenant. We all know why you got that promotion!" "Stop it!" "Really, Commander," Peterman said. "That's a little more than we needed to know. If you don't stop, I'll tell Lana." "That's not funny," Conway said, his face becoming serious. "Peterman to Shar," Peterman said with a smile. Conway waited for the Trill to respond, then grew worried when she didn't. "Conway to Shar." Peterman stopped smiling. "Computer, locate Dr. Lana Shar." "Dr. Lana Shar is not aboard the Explorer." Tilleran looked up from her sensors. "Commander, according to my records, Lana was aboard the Stardrive when we separated." "So she is aboard the Explorer," Conway muttered. "Just not this half." Peterman clapped Conway on the shoulder. "Well, Commander, it looks like we're both in the same boat." :) CHAPTER FOUR Captain Baxter surveyed the bridge of the Aerostar. It was much brighter, much more colorful than the bridge of his Aerostar, but the layout was basically the same. "We had to rearrange a lot of stuff after we got our minds back in order," Davey-wavey explained from the command chair. "They used bean bags and inflatable chairs at most of the stations." "Freaky," Baxter said, collapsing into the chair beside Davey-wavey with a sigh. "We just lost the Explorer's signal," Lt. B'nana said from tactical. "They have disappeared through the Bermuda Expanse." "Pursuit course, maximum impulse power," Davey-wavey ordered. Andy-wandy looked up from the ops panel. "I'm adjusting our shield modulation for a trip back through the Bermuda Expanse." "So, Commander, how much of your crew is actually on our side?" Baxter asked, as he watched the Bermuda Expanse loom closer on the viewscreen. "Out of the senior staff, me, B'nana, Larky, Brownie, Andy-wandy, and Meggy were able to be normalized. Out of two-hundred crew, fifty are still loony." "But all of Peterman's people didn't escape, right?" "Affirmative," Larky replied. "Peterman was only able to release the five officers from her cell block." "So they're going to have to run the Explorer with five people. That should be to our advantage," Baxter said. Hartley shook her head. "Not if their Richards is anything like ours. If my guess is right, he'll have that thing totally automated before they emerge from the Bermuda Expanse." "That has been our guess as well, Lieutenant," Larky said. "Then we'll have to be prepared for anything," Baxter said. "The Explorer's a powerful ship." "But she's never had to fight the Aerostar under my command," Davey-wavey said. "We'll bring her in." "I sure hope so," Mirk said. "We're entering the Bermuda Expanse," Ensign Susie Madera announced from the helm. "Hold on everyone," Davey-wavey said. "Things may get a little bumpy." "We've done this trip enough to know that," Baxter said. Mirk looked around as the Aerostar shook and rattled around him. He could feel the anguished song of the Directors cry around him: If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands. If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands. It was maddening. "Captain, we have to help the Directors," Mirk said urgently. "They're insane!" "One thing at a time, Mirk," Baxter said. "First we have a stardrive to catch." Counselor Kelly-bell Peterman watched the tiny viewscreen on the battlebridge as Playstation loomed closer. The wonderful feeling of being back in her home quadrant, in her home universe, was overshadowed by the unreality of what she saw. A Galaxy-class vessel, the Enterprise according to the ship's sensors, was doing battle with Playstation. Somehow, Kelly-bell sensed that a lot had happened since she left. "Open a channel to the Enterprise, Tilly," Kelly-bell ordered. "Open," Tilly reported. Captain Jean-jean Picard appeared on the viewscreen. "Hello, what's this? Counselor...Kelly-bell! What are you doing back from your mission in the Delta Quadrant so soon?" "It failed," Kelly-bell muttered bluntly. "What's happening here?" "The resistance has taken Playstation, and I'm afraid they've murdered the Happymaster. What has happened to the Aerostar?" "Lost to an unhappy revolution, Captain. But I was able to steal a vessel from the other universe." "Other universe?" Picard thought to himself a moment. "That's extraordinary, Kelly-bell. Will you help me break this station's defenses? Then we can discuss the whole thing over Earl Grey tea and nice hot blentzes." "You do make good blentzes, Jean-jean. We'll do what we can." Kelly-bell closed the channel. "He's lying!" Tilly said it so suddenly that it made Kelly-bell jump. "What do you mean he's lying?" "The Happymaster is alive, and Picard wants to kill him!" "Where is the Happymaster?" Kelly-bell asked, grabbing Tilly by the shoulders. "We must find him!" Tilly concentrated hard. "I can feel him...he's not far. The Defiant!" Kelly-bell whirled around. "Bri-Bri?" "Picking up the Defiant bearing 087 mark 114," Bri-Bri reported. "It's defending Playstation." "Defending? That doesn't make any sense," Kelly-bell said thoughtfully. "He's trapped there!" Tilly said, then she began to shudder. "And...by the holy rings...Mistress Beck is there too!" "Very well, intercept the Defiant. Chrissie, tell me what you know about this vessel's capabilities." Chrissie looked up from the engineering panel and stroked his beard thoughtfully. "It's amazing, Counselor. This vessel easily matches the Defiant or the Enterprise. It has quantum torpedoes, high-powered phaser systems and ablative armor just like the Defiant, but it has the power and size of a Galaxy-class. A remarkable ship." "Well, then. Let's put her to the test," Kelly-bell said, stroking the command chair amorously. "Mr. Gellar, ready all weapons and unleash them on the Defiant as soon as we get within range." Commander Conway stormed out of Commander Beck's office, pulling at his hair in frustration. "That was Admiral McGrath. He said we may have to wait up to four days for help. The Venture and the Dartmouth got caught in an ionic storm." "Great," Lt. Porter huffed. "Meanwhile, we're stuck with a spacial rift that could spit out attacking vessels any minute." Lt. Tilleran grunted slightly as she worked beside Porter at the science station. "Do you have something, Lieutenant?" Conway asked. "Maybe," Tilleran said. "Give me another second." "Don't take too damn long, Lieutenant," Conway griped, turning to Russell, who was grouped at the tactical console with Lt. J'hana and Lt. Commander Larkin. "You guys better have those runabout deployments ready soon. We may have to defend this station in a matter of minutes." Lt. Commander Walter Morales leaned against the docking console and watched Conway bark orders at his staff. In all fairness, it was he that was put in command of the station after Beck's departure, not Conway. "You have Ops," Beck had said. What right did Conway have to come in and take over? "You daydreaming, Morales?" Conway asked, tapping the station's Executive Officer on the shoulder. "N-no, sir," Morales said, inwardly flinching. He should be standing up to this man. Sure, Conway outranked Morales, but that gave him no right to barge in like he owned the place. "Okay, everyone, I need a way to protect all the innocent lives out here before some happy bastard comes through the Bermuda Expanse and blasts us to hell. What have we got?" Conway asked, facing the crew in Ops from a position in front of the viewscreen. "We have some good news and some bad news," Tilleran said, finally looking up from Walker's console. "Let's here the good news first," Conway sighed, crossing over to the science station. "Well," Tilleran said, taking a deep breath. "The nature of the problem with the Bermuda Expanse is essentially that its subspace pathway has been regenerated, by a beam from the Aerostar that originated in the alternate Delta Quadrant." "Sure," Conway said. "What's the point?" "Due to the Director's confused state, the pathway was reoriented across the time-space domain and broke through to our reality." "And?" "And..." Tilleran made an impatient sound. Conway could be very difficult sometimes. "If we can generate a powerful enough subspace field around the rift, we should be able to close it. It's only a matter of creating a strong enough field." "Can we do it?" Conway asked. "If we combine the warp fields from the two runabouts aboard Waystation and the three aboard the Explorer, that should suffice," Larkin announced. "So what's the bad news?" Conway asked, looking from Porter to Tilleran. Porter sighed. "The bad news is, if we close the rift, we'll have no way to reopen it from this side. We'll have no way to get Captain Baxter, Commander Beck, or anyone else back." "I'll be a son of a bitch!" Singer cried, as the massive stardrive section soared towards them on the Defiant's viewscreen. "What is that?" "Records indicate it's not part of the Funfleet, sir," Seany-weany Russell reported from tactical. He'd been coerced into joining the rebellion after Singer took over Playstation. "But it has weapons similar to the Defiant's. Sir, they're opening fire on us!" At the rear of the bridge, Happymaster Dillon smiled broadly. "Finally. The cavalry." "That 'cavalry' isn't even registered with the Funfleet!" Lisa-love said indignantly. "Where could it have come from?" "Shut up!" one of the security guards said, jabbing them both with the butt of his phaser rifle. "You can use that Happy mind trick of yours any time now!" Lisa-love cursed under her breath. "Patience, Lisa-love, I know what I'm doing!" Travvy hissed. The Defiant spasmed under the assault of the approaching ship. "Defiant...this is Counselor Kelly-bell Peterman of the Federation Funship Explorer. You will release Happymaster Dillon to us immediately, or you will be destroyed!" "I'm not giving up that easily," Singer muttered angrily as the Defiant pitched beneath her. "Evasive maneuvers!" "It's no use!" Seany-weany reported. "Our shields are failing!" "Send a distress call to Playstation. Tell Lazlo to call us in some support--and fast!" "Negative," Russell said, looking up from his panel. "The Multek and Cardassian forces are engaged in skirmishes along the Klingon and Romulan borders." "Damn!" Singer cursed. "We're out of options!" "This is your last chance, rebel!" Kelly-bell's voice continued. "Helm, lay in a collision course with the Explorer. If we're finished, we're taking them out with us." She glared back at Travvy. "No way you're getting out of this thing alive, scumbag!" "Really?" Travvy asked calmly. He glanced over at Ensign Bobby at the helm. "Bobby, you're not going to lay in a collision course." Bobby looked up from the helm, his face blank. "No, not the mind trick!" Singer shouted. "Fight it, Bobby!" "I'm not going to lay in a collision course," Bobby said matter-of-factly. Singer dove from the command chair and grabbed the helm, turning the Defiant towards the Explorer herself. "Shoot him, Seany!" Seany turned his phaser on Travvy, but it just shook in his hands. "Don't shoot me, shoot her!" Travvy ordered happily. "Major Singer...I'm sorry!" Seany said helplessly as he turned the phaser toward Singer. "Get out of the way!" Singer ducked as Seany fired the phaser, vaporizing poor Bobby and fragging the helm console. "Enough games," Kelly-bell's voice said, as suddenly Lisa-love and Travvy began to dematerialize. "Ta-ta!" Travvy said fiendishly. "I don't think so!" Singer cried out, leaping across the open space between her and Travvy, clambering into him just as he disappeared. "Get her into a brig!" Travvy ordered, pushing Singer aside and pulling himself to his feet. He looked at Kelly-bell approvingly. "Good work, Counselor." "Picard's trying to kill you, you know," Kelly-bell said, as Singer was dragged away kicking and screaming. "I know," Travvy said, straightening his uniform, pushing the cape out of his face and walking toward the center of the bridge. "Disable the Defiant's engines and get that bald twit on the viewscreen." "Yes, Happyness," Bri-Bri said dutifully. "The Explorer, of course, is yours," Kelly-bell said, stepping next to Travvy as he prepared to talk to Picard. "Of course it is, though I didn't think it would be ready yet. And why is it so drab around here?" "We got it from the other universe," Kelly-bell explained. "Resourceful, aren't we?" Travvy said proudly. "You'll go far, Counselor." "We haven't won yet, Mr. Happypants," Lisa-love pouted, collapsing into one of the command chairs. "Oh, be quiet," Travvy said, as Picard flashed onto the viewscreen. "Oh, look, you've found the Happymaster...erm, uh, thank goodness. Welcome back, your ah, Happyness," Jean-jean said nervously from the viewscreen. "Can it, Jean-jean," Travvy said dryly. "It's over." "Oh, it's far from over, Travvy," Jean-jean said, victory in his voice. "And what's that supposed to mean?" Travvy asked. "My vessel easily outguns yours." "Very true, very true. Well, what if I were to tell you...So' chagh!" "So'...chagh?" Travvy said to himself. "Well, I'd say it sounds like Klingon..." "Happymaster!" Tilly shouted, pointing at the viewscreen. Travvy, Lisa-love, and Kelly-bell watched the screen, mouths agape, as dozens of Klingon vessels--Birds of Prey and battlecruisers alike--decloaked around them. "We're surrounded!" Bri-Bri called out, looking up from a tactical display. "Retreat! Retreat!" Travvy cried. "To where?" Kelly-bell asked, looking at the screen in fear. "To the only place we can go," Travvy said resolutely. "Back to Earth!" Kelly-bell nodded down at Ensign Fresca, who promptly whirled the Explorer around and sent it through a wall of firing Klingon ships. "This is just a piece of damn cake!" Lisa-love cried frantically. Captain Conway resumed his seat in the command chair and handed Baxter a cup of hot, steamy coffee. "Wow, I guess some things will never change," Baxter said, eyeing the cup conspicuously. "Does your Conway drink coffee as well?" "Sure does," Baxter took a sip and recoiled instantly. "Though he doesn't put so much sugar...and...ugh...what is that I'm tasting?" "A hint of nutmeg," Davey-wavey said with a twinkle in his eye. "That's what gives it zing." "I'll have to mention that to my Conway," Baxter said, putting the cup aside. Mirk and Hartley stood near the science station, watching the viewscreen aimlessly as the purple mesh of the Bermuda Expanse streaked by. "This is awful, Lieutenant Hartley," Mirk said, leaning against the panel for support. "The Directors are in jeapardy. No, it's worse than that. They're in double jeapardy!" "I'm sure the Directors will be okay, Mirk," Hartley said, watching the science console uneasily. "I'll just be glad when we get back to our own universe. This whole situation gives me the creeps." "We have emerged from the Bermuda Expanse," Larky reported from ops. "We will be within sensor range of Playstation in under two minutes." "You know, it amazes me that Playstation could be taken over by the rebels," Captain Conway said incredulously. "When we left, Playstation was a stronghold of Federation Funtroops." "Evidently they were kicked out," Commander Beck explained, walking around to the front of the bridge. "I'll wager a lot has changed here in a year." "I was thinking, Captain Conway," Baxter said, "that it seems that this 'Happy' Federation isn't so happy after all." "It's happy all right," Davey-wavey said. "The leaders are happy because they oversee an empire of willing, always- cheery subjects. And the subjects are happy because the leaders hit them with a powerful happy-beam." Baxter turned to Beck. "It almost makes sense." "No, it makes no sense at all!" Beck replied. "Oh, dear," Larky said, looking up at the viewscreen. "What is it, Larky?" Davey-wavey asked, looking over. Davey-wavey's question was answered when the viewscreen snapped up a view of swarming Klingon warships attacking a retreating Explorer stardrive. "I wonder whose side they're on," Davey-wavey said thoughtfully. "Well, they're attacking the Explorer, which is right now being commanded by our enemies," Beck reasoned. "So doesn't that mean they're on our side?" "The Klingons were on the side of the Federation the last I heard," Davey-wavey said. "Maybe a lot HAS changed," Baxter offered. "We are being hailed," B'nana reported. Davey-wavey approached the viewscreen. "Let's see it." The smiling visage of Captain Jean-jean Picard graced the viewscreen. "Davey-wavey...how nice to see you again. Where's my Binkyboo?" "Uh-oh," Davey-wavey said. "What's wrong?" Baxter asked. "Is the Picard here good or bad?" Regardless, he was definitely a snappy dresser. "Very, very, bad," Davey-wavey said under his breath. "Ready on weapons," he grunted back to B'nana in such a garbled voice it sounded like a cough. "Uh, Captain Picard, I'm sorry to say that...uh, well... some things happened on the Aerostar, and, um, your 'Binkyboo' as you, um, call him, well...he's been...compromised." "Compromised?" Picard's face went ashen. "How so?" "Um, Captain Riker's brain went a little funny." "Oh, Riker...my baby!" Picard covered his mouth in horror. "Beam him to my Sickbay immediately." "I'm sorry, Captain. I can't do that," Davey-wavey said. "You see, I'm here to retrieve a ship from the other universe and help the resistance in any way possible." "Then you won't let me see my Riker?" "Afraid not," Davey-wavey said weakly. "Tracking the Explorer," Larky reported. "On a course of 012 mark 008. They are having trouble getting clear of all the Klingon ships and are unable to enter warp." "Intercept them," Davey-wavey ordered. "Might I remind you that we will have to cross the whole field of Klingon warships to--" "Do it!" Davey-wavey ordered. Picard blinked back on the viewscreen. "You are not nice!" he said in a thundering voice. "But I can't destroy you--not if I want my Binkyboo!" "Sorry," Davey-wavey said, returning to the command chair, just as the first disruptor blasts hit the Aerostar. "Return fire, B'nana, all weapons!" "What's going to happen now?" Mirk asked. "They're going to wear down our shields until they can board. Then it all depends on whether it's a Klingon team that beams aboard or if it's Picard himself." "Why? Didn't they hit the Klingons with that happy beam?" Hartley asked, hunched over the science station. "Oh, they're happy all right," Davey-wavey said grudgingly, holding tight as Ensign Susie maneuvered the Aerostar. "But they're still killers. They'd murder the whole bridge crew." "So we'd be better off if Picard beamed over," Beck said. Davey-wavey laughed hideously. "Oh, no. You don't know Jean-jean. We'd be begging for death by the time he was finished with us." "Shields down to thirty percent," B'nana reported grimly. "Wonderful," Beck grumbled. "We've got a choice between death and--" she looked to Davey-wavey. "Don't ask," Davey-wavey snapped back. More streaks of light blazed through space on the viewscreen, lighting up the bridge at the same time as panels exploded all around. "Our shields have failed!" B'nana cried out. "Sensors indicate that the Explorer has engaged into warp," Larky reported from ops. "So we bought them time with our hides?" Baxter asked wryly. Hartley grimaced. "See, every cloud does have a silver lining." Suddenly, six beams of light appeared on the bridge-- three blue and three red. The blue beams formed Captain Picard, Lt. Woofie, and Lt. Commander Data, the red ones formed angry, yet happy, Klingon warriors. "I guess we get the best of both worlds," Davey-wavey griped, leaping out of the command chair and smashing head- on into one of the Klingon warriors. Baxter was paralyzed with fear. The Klingon warriors were dressed in long, feathery, pink tutus, powder blue tights, and big Peter Pan shoes. "Hey, little guy," one of them said happily, stabbing a dk'tang knife into Davey-wavey's shoulder. "I want him alive!" Picard chanted, withdrawing his sword and stabbing it into Ensign Madera. Lt. Commander Larky was instantly on her feet. A compartment in her chest opened up, firing a grappling hook at Picard. The hook wrapped around the Captain's neck and jerked him back. "What scullduggery is this?" Picard asked. Woofie moved to assist Picard, and was immediately hit by a phaser in the back from Commander Beck. "My thanks, Commander," Larky said, as her eyes slid away to reveal two phasers which lashed beams across the bridge. "She's like a damn Swiss Army knife!" Baxter said, ducking as a Klingon soared over him in an elegant jetee, crashing into the command chair. Lieutenant Hartley lept over the science station, barely missing a phaser blast from Lt. Commander Data. The android aimed again, just in time for Larky to plow into him. Data hopped back, preparing to do battle with the other android. "I see the unhappys reprogrammed you, Lieutenant." "It is Lieutenant Commander now, and yes they have," Larky said, as beams seared from her eyesockets. "A pity," Data replied. The phaser beams bounced harmlessly off a field that surrounded the android. "You were formidible. Primative, but formidible indeed." Data cocked his head, and suddenly emotional fire crackled into his eyes. "You see, I too have made improvements to my systems, including Dr. Soong's emotion chip. It is quite envigorating. I feel so much. You could feel it to. A trip to my lab, a chilled sherry, or a nice kiante perhaps?" Smoke filled the bridge as Baxter lunged towards the helm. "Gotta get us out of here!" Baxter fumbled with the helm contols as Picard grabbed the wounded Davey-wavey. "Tell me where my Binkyboo is!" Lieutenant Woofie struggled to his feet, clambering to Jean-jean's side. He shook off the effects of Commander Beck's stun with a grunt. "Captain?" "Search this ship from stem to stern!" he cried. "Find my Binkyboo and any other Federation citizens who are still HAPPY!" "Aye, Captain," the Klingon said as he moved to the turbolift. Beck struggled with two Klingons, desperately trying to avoid being stabbed. "This is such fun!" she growled. "We must do this again some time!" "Don't blame me, Beck!" Baxter cursed, pushing a Klingon away as he steered the Aerostar into a tight roll. "You were the one that wanted to come along so badly in the first place!" "What was I thinking," Beck snapped, plowing one of the Klingon's heads into a bulkhead. Before she could turn, the other one drew his knife high above his head, prepared to strike. Lt. Hartley scrambled over the tactical console, just in time to avoid a flying batleth. "I'm coming to help, Commander Beck!" The transporter chief lept onto the back of one of the Klingon warriors, ripping his blade out of his hands. "Step off, girlie!" the massive Klingon grunted, tossing Hartley away as if she weighed nothing. Hartley landed at Mirk's feet, just in time to see a Klingon descend towards them. Mirk squinted his eyes shut and concentrated. "Don't worry, Lieutenant, this fellow is all taken care of." Hartley winced as the Klingon crashed into both of them. "You were saying?" Hartley croaked, sliding out from under the Klingon and dragging Mirk away. "I don't know how to explain it," Mirk replied. "There's something wrong with my powers." "No kidding." Meanwhile, B'nana struggled with two Klingons hanging from each arm in an attempt to help Commander Beck. "The old B'nana would have reached out and hugged you. But the new B'nana just wants to crush your fwarking skulls!" "Don't you have some kind of powers from that normalizing beam that you can use on these guys?" Beck asked. "Afraid not," B'nana grunted. "However, I have found that, since being hit by the beam, I have become quite adept at basketball." "Well, that's not helping us now!" Beck cried, ramming her shoulder into the nearest Klingon. Captain Baxter gripped the helm as he spun the Aerostar around again, moving to the side as a phaser blast seared by him. "You are tenacious, otherworlder," Jean-jean said. "I can't wait to get you back to my ship. You'll be a fun...exercise." Baxter shivered as he worked the controls. In his peripheral vision, he noticed Larky hovering behind him. "Thank goodness you were able to take care of Mr. Data, Larky. Go see if you can get the shields back up." "Lt. Commander Data has corrected my programming errors. Have a beeee-utiful day, Captain!" Larky said joyfully, lifting Baxter into the air and hurling him into a bulkhead. "Captain Baxter!" Hartley called out, as she recovered her fallen phaser and blasted an onrushing Klingon. "We have to get out of here!" Mirk cried from behind her. "No kidding!" Hartley said. "I'm up for suggestions." Suddenly the Aerostar rocked again. But it was a different kind of rock. Like a wave of energy passing through the entire system. And that energy filled Mirk like he was a lightening rod. "Take my hand!" Mirk cried, reaching out towards Hartley. "I'm not sure what's happening, but it's something cool!" Hartley grabbed Mirk's hand, just as a Klingon warrior lunged towards her. "Could you be a little more specif--" And in a blink the light was gone, as were Mirk and Hartley. Without anything to stop him, the Klingon slammed painfully into the bulkhead. :) CHAPTER FIVE WAYSTATION "Report in, Cumberland," Commander Conway said, taking a long sip from his cup of coffee and staring up at the viewscreen in Ops. "Engines at ninety-five percent, Commander," Lt. Porter's voice replied. "Yadkin, Roanoake, and Algonquin are maxed out as well." "What about Susquehanna?" Conway asked, leaning forward with interest. "Moving into position now," came Lt. Commander Larkin's voice. "Great," Conway said. "Lt. Tilleran, what response are we getting from the rift?" "It's closing to four thousand meters, sir. A marked improvement. I'd say we should see full closure in another forty minutes." "Hey, toadboy! I've got a bone to pick with you!" Counselor Peterman said, emerging from the turbolift. Conway edged back as Peterman approached. "That's...um...Commander Toadboy to you." "I heard you were closing the rift." Peterman backed Conway against one of the bulkheads. The Commander squirmed slightly. "Yeah, what if I am?" "My boyfriend's over there!" "Hey, a lot of people that we care about are over there, but the security of the Federation is more important," Conway said, backing up a little more, carefully holding his coffee as far away from Peterman as he could. "Security of the Federation my ass." Peterman grabbed Conway's collar and lifted him up against the wall. "You just want to be Mr. Hero, at the expense of everyone who's trapped over there." "Watch the coffee, watch the coffee!" Conway said frantically, balancing his mug as Peterman shook him. "I'll watch the coffee all right, buster," Peterman said, letting Conway drop to the deck, grabbing the coffee and dumping it onto Conway's crotch. "Arrrrrrgggh!" Conway cried, as the hot coffee soaked into his uniform. "You are way out of line, Counselor!" "Well, then, allow me to get a little more out of line," Peterman said, tapping her comm badge. "Peterman to Algonquin. The word is 'go'." "J'hana here. Acknowledged." Conway lept forward to grab Peterman as she disappeared in a flurry of blue particles. "J'hana!" Conway growled. "Sorry, Commander," J'hana returned over the comm. "Honor always comes before duty. Is there anything you'd like for me to bring back from the other side? A t-shirt, perhaps?" "Conway to Susquehanna," Conway cried, slapping his comm badge. "Intercept the Algonquin before it reaches the rift." "Aye, sir," Larkin responded. "But Commander, should I succeed, do you wish for me to fire on them?" "I don't care what you have to do, just stop them!" Conway cried. Conway limped towards the viewscreen, watching as Larkin's runabout maneuvered after the Algonquin. "Would you like me to get the doctor up here, Commander?" Lt. Commander Morales asked from behind Conway. "Please," Conway croaked, falling back to his knees. "The Algonquin has outmaneuvered my phaser beams and entered the rift, Commander. Shall I pursue?" Larkin's voice crackled over the speakers. "No, break off, Susquehanna. Break off," Conway grunted. "Resume your position and continue to close the rift." "Are you okay, sir?" Morales asked. "I can't believe she made me dump coffee on my crotch!" Conway muttered. "That has to be a Court Martial offense." "You have a very...unique command style, Commander," Morales commented, as Conway grasped at his burned genitals. USS ENTERPRISE Captain's Happy Thoughts, Stardate 52605.7. While my Klingon compatriots go to work taking control of Playstation, we have set course to pursue Happymaster Dillon. In the meantime, I have some unfinished business to attend to. "THANK you for saving me, Captain Picard," Manservant Jaroch said, pacing back and forth in the small quarters he had been assigned to. "Thank YOU for saving ME, your Happyness!" he said again. "No, that's not right. Thank you for SAVING me, monsieur! That's it. He will like the french part." Suddenly the doors to Jaroch's quarters signalled a visitor from outside with a pleasant, Jetson-esque "doo doo doo doo!" "Come," Jaroch said, straightening his hair and folding his hands behind his back neatly, putting on the biggest fake smile he could manage. Captain Picard pushed through the door, his sword clanging at his side. "Greetings, Mister Jaroch. It has been a while." Jaroch bowed graciously. "Thank you for SAVING me, monsieur." "Think nothing of it. I needed someone I could trust and who knows Travvy well. I hope you've found the accomodations pleasing." "Very much, sir. The rumors of your treatment of prisoners are quite erroneous." Jean-jean clapped Jaroch on the back and squeezed him tightly. "Don't think of yourself as a prisoner, cher. Think of yourself as a guest. You'll be treated well by my staff and me, and all I ask in return is that you help me stop Lisa-love and Travvy from reaching Earth. If they do, my place as Happymaster General is endangered. And we wouldn't want that, would we?" "No, sir." "Perhaps, if I do make Happymaster General, there will be an administrative position at my side for you. Would you like that?" "Oh, yes sir!" Jaroch said excitedly. "I shall do all I can to assist you." "Excellent," Picard said with a smile. "We will intercept Lisa-love and Travvy in five hours. In the meantime, I have another little assignment for you. One that will put all your scientific skills to use." "Scientific skills?" Jaroch asked with a gulp. Manservant Jaroch rounded the bend to the adjoining corridor and stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he heard the anguished grunts from the room at the end. "Keep a-movin'," the security officer said pleasantly, nudging Jaroch onward with his phaser. Jaroch came to a stop at the set of doors at the end of the corridor and had to stop himself from jumping back when he heard another anguished grunt. "Computer, be a sweetheart and open up this door, security authorization Betty Boop One," the security guard said. The doors promptly swished open, and the guard unceremoniously shoved Jaroch through. "Have a good time, Mister Jaroch." Upon being shoved inside, Jaroch tripped and fell flat on his face. The Yynsian squinted up at the dark shapes in the dimly lit room. "Computer...lights." The lights sprung on, causing Jaroch to stumble back as he groped his way to his feet. As his eyes adjusted, he saw a dark shape move towards him and knock him back over the couch. "Errg?" a voice asked. Jaroch pulled himself up and looked into the face of his assailant. "Captain Riker!" Willy-nilly had changed a lot since Jaroch had last seen him. His beard was bushy and his hair was wildly unkempt. And his eyes...they reflected a warped and twisted mind that swirled behind wide corneas. "Fox in sox knocks blocks from docks and watches bottled beetles battle with paddles in puddles!" Willy-nilly cried, leaping over the couch and jumping on top of Jaroch. Jaroch wiped a spray of drool off his face and squirmed out from under Riker. So this was what Picard meant by a little assignment. He had to put right whatever was wrong in poor Riker's head. And he only had a few hours to do it. "The goose grabs gooey globs of gross gunk!" Willy- nilly said pleasantly. "Not a problem," Jaroch muttered. "You win again," Lt. Commander Richards said with a sigh, handing his cards to Bradley Dillon. "You're pretty good at this game, Mr. Dillon." "It's a hobby," Bradley said with a smile. "Cards are a nice way to pass the time." "Excuse me," Dr. Browning said from the cell across from them. "But I was just wondering when we were going to stop playing cards and find a way to get out of here?" "If you have a suggestion, hon, I'd love to hear it," Richards said. "You want to go again, Stuart?" "No, I already owe Bradley here two bars of latinum," Stuart said grumpily. "That is if we ever get out of here alive," Bradley sighed. From her place on the cot next to Browning, Lana Shar crossed her arms and made an angry noise. "He's cheating, you know." Stuart turned to Bradley and narrowed his eyes. "Is that right?" Bradley backed up a bit. "Of course not. My gorgeous friend is mistaken." "Listen, pudgy, I didn't live five hundred years without learning a thing or two," Lana said resolutely. "You have a microscopic implant in one of your fingers that is capable of changing the number and suit of the cards in your hands." "That's ridiculous," Bradley said. "I'm offended that you would think such a thing of dear old Bradley Dillon." "Check him," Lana said. Stuart grabbed Bradley's hand and rubbed his fingers over the brig's wall, and sure enough, a tiny, red, "ten" appeared. "Just a parlor trick. I wasn't actually going to collect," Bradley said innocently. "Why you..." Richards muttered. "Hello, friends," a voice said, as the doors to the brig swooshed open. Richards turned to see Ensign Fresca approach the two cells. "I trust you're all happy with the accomodations." "Thrilled," Browning said with a plastered-on smile. "Good," Fresca said, smiling even wider. She leaned closer to Richards's cell. Without moving her lips, she said, "I understand you are well versed in this ship's functions, Mr. Richards." "I'd like to think so," Richards replied. "Just what I wanted to hear. Watch for my signal," Fresca said, still smiling wide. She backed away from the cell. "Stay happy and nothing will happen to you. Pleasant day." "What was that all about?" Stuart asked, as Fresca left the brig. "It makes perfect sense," Browning said. "She couldn't possibly be named Fresca, since that was just the alias Lt. Commander Preston worked under when she was on our Aerostar. Fresca is obviously her alias in this universe too." "But who does she work for?" Lana asked. "Good question," Richards said, rubbing his chin. "Whoever it is, I'm more inclined to trust her than Happymaster Dillon." "You can say that again," Browning said. "Back already?" Travvy asked, as Fresca made her way down to the front of the battle bridge. "Yes, sir," Fresca said sweetly. "Everyone's still tucked in." "Goodie." Travvy leaned back in the command chair. "Ready a Priority One communication for the Emperor. Tell her Picard and the Klingons have betrayed us and call for support." "Aye, sir," Fresca said, entering the commands into her terminal. "Well, what do we do now?" Lisa-love asked from her place next to Travvy. "We wait," Travvy snapped. "Unless you have a better idea?" "Not at all. This is your show, Happyness." "Damn right. Don't ever forget it." Lieutenant Hartley fought her eyes open and tried to ignore the throbbing in her head. "Captain Baxter? Captain Conway? Mirk?" "Here, Megan," Mirk said, leaning over her. "You took a bump on the head when we landed." "Landed?" Hartley asked, leaning up and rubbing the bump on her head. "Yeah. Sorry about that," Mirk said. "I projected us about ten meters above the planet's surface." "Wait a minute. Projected?" Hartley asked. "The last thing I remember is being on the Aerostar as it was attacked by Picard and the Klingons. We were about to be taken over when you started glowing and..." "Then we ended up here," Mirk said, gesturing to the green foliage around them. "As near as I can tell, some kind of energy inversion in the Bermuda Expanse supercharged my powers for a moment and gave me the ability to transport us out of there." "You mean you used your powers to beam us here?" "Not really beam. I just...'thought' us here." "Neat trick," Hartley said. "Well, genius, where exactly did you 'think' us?" "Good question. I was wondering that myself. I don't recognize the planet." "Me neither. Do you even know if we're near the same system?" "Not a clue. We could be anywhere. Maybe even in another quadrant." "Just great. What about the rest of the Aerostar crew?" "I don't know. I assume Captain Picard took them prisoner." "Meanwhile, we're powerless to help them." Hartley through her hands up in frustration. "Thank goodness for little Maloxians and their magical powers." "You know, I did save your life, if you recall," Mirk said. "Believe me, I couldn't thank you more. But right now we need to find a way to help the Captain and the others." Hartley grunted as she slid off the rock. "Maybe there's some civilized life around here." Mirk looked around at the towering trees that surrounded them. He had a very bad feeling about this planet. "That's a nice thought, Megan. But somehow I doubt it." When Captain Baxter came to, he was immediately made aware that he was spinning rapidly. "What the hell is happening?" Baxter asked, as he whirled around dizzily. "Nice of you to join us again," Beck's voice said nauseously. "They put us on some kind of damned gyroscopes. A quick, dizzying, look told Baxter that Beck's observations were correct. His arms and legs were stretched out and attached to some kind of hollow, metal, spherical ball--kind of like the ones they used to prepare cadets for zero-g work at Starfleet Academy. But this ball was spinning far more rapidly. "I think I'm going to puke," Beck said. "Other than that, have you found anything out about where we are?" Baxter said, trying to suppress the vomit that was churning in his stomach. "Very little, actually." "Just great. Well, obviously we weren't successful in getting the Aerostar away from the Klingons." "We made a darn good try at it, though." "And accomplished little, I'm afraid," a voice said from somewhere in the room. Baxter couldn't locate it because he was spinning so fast, but it was unmistakably the voice of Captain Picard. "Hope you all are enjoying my...hospitality." "Where is everyone else?" Beck asked. "We left the Aerostar in the tender care of my Klingon enforcers. You two came along because...well...this other world intriuges me." "What about Mirk and Hartley?" Baxter asked. "You mean the other two people from your universe? They seem to have disappeared. I'd like to know why...but maybe you could tell me that." "Mirk's powers must have malfunctioned again," Baxter said dizzily. "Intruiging. I'd like to hear more about this later." "Could you please stop this God forsaken spinning?" Baxter pleaded. "It's driving us nuts." "Mmmmm...precisely," Picard said, clapping his hands together. "You two are simply delicious. We'll have your brains so scrambled soon that you won't be able to tell your left from your right. Then we can be friends." "I don't want to be friends, Mister, I just want to get my ship back and get the hell out of here." "Oh, you'll get your ship back, all right. We can even make you Captain of it again. But first you'll have to undergo a little ...attitude adjustment." "Oh for the love of Pete!" Baxter cried out. "There will be time for love later, big boy," Picard said. "For now, enjoy the amusements." "How the hell are we going to get out of this one, Captain Intelligence?" Beck asked, as Picard left the room. Baxter responded by puking loudly and uncontrollably all over the inside of his sphere. J'hana's voice, mixed with alarms and computerized bleeps, buzzed around Peterman. "We're caught in a gravitic flux!" J'hana cried out. "Attempting to adjust the warp field to compensate!" Peterman's field of vision warped and clouded up as she tried to make sense of the swirling world around her. "Can we get through?" "Uncertain. I cannot even--" Then everything stopped. All the sounds inside the runabout disappeared, along with the feeling of the deck bucking under Peterman's feet. Suddenly it was all just-- gone. "J'hana?" Peterman asked, looking around at the swirling purple eternity around her. Peterman looked around. "Who's there?" "Weir who?" Peterman shook her head to clear the feeling of confusion that set in, but, oddly, she had no sense of amusement. "Where are we?" Suddenly an eyeball carreened by Peterman, almost slamming into her. J'hana flew after it, fists curled. "Transport me into a funky purple mental plain, will you? You damned eyeball! Wait until I'm finished with you!" "J'hana!" Peterman called out. The Andorian whirled around. "What do you want? I'm busy here!" "Don't you see where we are? We're with the Directors!" "That may be, but no one sucks me into a dream world against my will without answering for it!" "Calm down, J'hana! Remember our talks about your temper?" Peterman said as she hovered there helplessly. "I'll calm down the second we--" the eyeball said, as suddenly the purple eternity transformed around them. Suddenly Peterman felt herself descend through a strange multicolored world, struggling to stop her fall as she felt plastic slide past her face. "Where are we?" J'hana's angry voice asked. "Where are those Directors?" Peterman suddenly realized that she was in a giant tank that was filled with little plastic multicolored balls. "Kelly, honey! Be careful in there," a voice said. "Who is that?" J'hana asked, as she writhed through the thick surrounding balls. "My mom," Peterman said in confusion. "Hey, that's where we are. Playtime Place! On Earth!" "Playtime Place? Was this some kind of torture facility?" J'hana asked as she pushed up through the balls. "No, it was a place where kids went to play. Hence the name," Peterman replied, struggling for footing. "Charming," J'hana grunted. "Why are we here?" "You've got me." Peterman struggled against the current of balls until her head emerged. "Mom?" "There you are, sweetie. It's time to go," Peterman's mom said, extending a hand. "Come on, baby." "What is this bedamned nonsense?" J'hana asked, as her head emerged beside Peterman. "Watch your mouth, Melody, or I'll be on the phone to your mom in a jiffy!" Peterman's mom warned. "Melody?" J'hana asked. "And who the hell is Melody?" Peterman climbed out of the balls and scratched her head thoughtfully. "Melody was like my best friend when I was eight." "You won't be eight until March, sweetheart," Peterman's mom said. "I'm seven?" Peterman asked, taking her mom's hand and following her down the steps to the rest of Playtime Place. "Amusing," J'hana said. "I am sure you were a pretty little girl, Counselor." "If I'm seven, and you're Melody, that would make you six, so shut up." "Be nice!" Peterman's mom said with a wave of her finger. Peterman stopped at a row of funhouse mirrors and gasped. A dark haired, seven year old girl in a flowery pink and yellow jumper and white panty-hose stared back at her. "This is not happening," Peterman said, rubbing a hand over her face. J'hana looked over Peterman's shoulder and laughed. "You were a pretty little girl, Couns--" the Andorian stopped when she saw her own reflection in the distorted mirror. "By the hive mother!" "Melody" was decked out in canary Osh Kosh overalls with a big, purple bow in her hair. "I am a freakish human child! How could this have happened!" "Don't ask me," Peterman said. "And who is this B'gosh that my overalls belong to? He sounds like an Andorian religious figure." Peterman grabbed J'hana's hand and led her away. "Come on, we have work to do." "Kelly, Melody!" Peterman's mom called out. "Come on, kids. We have to go now!" "This is greatly disturbing," J'hana said as she followed Peterman. "You haven't seen anything yet," Peterman said. "Wait until you see my room." Happymaster Dillon watched the onrushing stars on the viewscreen impatiently. "Have we received a reply from the Emperor yet?" "Not yet, sir," Fresca replied. "Well, what's taking so damn long?" "I don't know, Happyness. Perhaps it got stuck in traffic." "If I want to hear jokes I'll hire a comedian. Dillon to Chrissie." "Chrissie here." "I need you to take a look at the primary communications relay. I sent a message to Emperor Webber an hour ago and I haven't heard anything yet." "That's odd. We're only a few hours away from Earth at this speed." "Very good, Chrissie. Now, the question is, can you fix the f***ing problem?" "Yes, Happymaster," Chrissie said. "I'm on it." "Lt. Bri-Bri, what is the position of the Enterprise?" "Well behind us, sir," Bri-Bri replied from tactical. "We will reach Earth twenty minutes ahead of them." "And once we reach Earth, they will be powerless to stop us," Travvy said, laughing maniacally. :) CHAPTER SIX EXPLORER "Hello, Major," Mistress Beck said, looking with satisfaction at the brig that held Major Becky Singer at bay. "I trust the occupation of my station is going well?" "Well enough to assure you happy bastards will be out of commission within the year," Singer grunted. "That may be. But your friends will do it without your help." Singer threw her head back and laughed. "Do your worst, bitch." "Honey," Lisa-love said in a sultry voice. "You can't imagine what my worst is." Lisa-love suddenly whirled at the sound of opening doors. "Happy day, Mistress Beck," Ensign Fresca said with a smile. "I'm here to check up on our prisoner." Lisa-love folded her arms and glared at Singer. "Make it quick, my precious." Ensign Fresca walk