Topic: "what happened next" pt2

[Gook]

Julin Eurthyr
Ensign   posted 12-16-2001 01:21 AM                 
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Intel Offices, ISCS Little Paradise
Annlova, The Miraki Intelligence Officer, a Veltrassi Quad-link, had all 4 of her bodies in the office at the time, pouring over the latest reports. Deep in Telepathic communication, they pour over various pieces of data and attempt to link the various sub-strains of data together. Of course, she is shocked when the locked door to her office slides open, and all 4 heads look up and at the door in unison, watching Admiral Eurthyr enter the room.
"Report", Julin demands just as the door closes, and he pockets his command override key. "And next time, answer the doorbell."
Noticing the door is shut and locked again, the other 3 return to dealing with reports, while one saunters over, and nuzzles up to Julin. "Sorry hun, this is interesting. Seems that the Lyrans are preparing to assault a massive catnip shipment in Miraki space, while the rest of the Miraki Intelligence community are their usual clueless selves." Glancing up to Julin with a smile, she continues "Also, it seems that somebody is interested in framing the Mirak, for somebody seems to have attempted to use a J'inn robot to destroy Hydran ships. Of course, using that template, the plan was a failure." She giggles, in such a way that left the giggle open for interpretation.
"Hmmm, interesting." Julin notes with a slight scowl on his face, it seems that he's getting annoyed with the fact that somebody's using such a hapless spy in their effort to frame somebody. "How goes our study of the Catnip formula?"
"Well hun, I'd like to take some time to test the, uh, feelings that catnip inspires within the Mirak..." at this point, she starts frisking Julin's back, trying to grab his hands and see if he's carrying something, "... and was wondering if you had a bottle of chardinay to do that with?"
Julin steps back, and presents his hands, showing they are empty. The effort to do so has placed him against the wall. "Sorry, wasn't planning on that today, mmm, more... important matters demand my attention now."
"Awww..." she moans, returning to her snuggling position, burying her face in his chest, "what kind of matters demand the attention of all 4 of your bodies?"
"It's not that," Julin replies, taking note of the fact that he does not have a readily available physical escape route, "it's just that if I were to... join you in your... experiment, my other bodies could become too telepathically distracted to perform their duties properly."
Being distracted by Annlova's direct attentions on his only body there, he didn't notice that one of her other bodies has gotten up, and went to a picture in the wall. Just as that body is ready to slide the picutre up, revealing her hidden wet bar, the doorbell rings. Quickly returning to her seat, that body chimes in with "come in", while unlocking the door from her control panel.
Varkin, Julin's XO, walks in. He is a Rovellian, one of the taller species in the Concordium. Now, for those slightly familiar with the races of the ISC, they would be a little surprised by this sight.
The Veltrassi are about average human height, maybe a bit shorter, while the Rovellians are taller than human norm. Due to unknown reasons, the tallest person in this room is Julin, one of the tallest Veltrassi ever, about 6'5" tall. Varkin is average for a Rovellian, at about 6'2", and Annlova is a little below average for Veltrassi, at 5'3".
"Admiral, FF-37 is approaching as scheduled, bearing the relief crews." Varkin notes from his usual position of attention, "and since you are the least busy of your bodies, I thought you would want to greet the relief properly."
"And the ETA of the ship?"
"20 minutes, sir."
Annlova looks up and chimes in at this particular moment, "Isn't the greeting of relief crews normally a job for the captain of the ship, not the Echelon's leader?"
Noticing the chance, Julin manages to sneak away a little bit, rolling around behind Annlova and facing the door. "Actually, these relief crews are going to be assigned to the LP, and they should meet exactly who will be commanding them. Ann, you will join me in Transporter room 2 in 15 minutes, wearing full dress uniform. Only one of you need to attend."
"Shall I attend too, sir?" Varkin asks.
"No Varkin, get up with Dareau and coordinate the transfer. Hail me when they are ready to beam."
Varkin salutes, turns, and leaves the room. Julin starts walking to the door, giving a reluctant Annlova a push, on the body part immediately below her back. "Comeon, you don't have much time to get changed..."
Annlova stops, and cranes her neck to face Julin, who is leaning right over her face, "That's not quite what I had in mind..."
"Sorry, no time for that now. We have to meet your new 'assistants'." Starting to push her again (and giving a little pinch to get her started), they leave, where Julin then starts walking his normal speed, causing her to run to keep up.
Half an hour later, in Transporter room 2, ISCS Little Paradise
The transporter effect dies off, leaving a Meskeen Commander and his Meskeen adjunct, a Lieutenant Commander on the pad. The Commander is carrying a data pad and his gear, while the Lt. Commander has a large suitcase, made of hard materials. It seems his gear is stored within, for he carries no other bags. "Permission to come aboard?" inquires the Commander.
"Permission granted, welcome aboard." Julin steps forward, and shakes the Commander's hand. "Allow me to introduce you, this is Commander Annlova, our specialist in Miraki affairs. She will assist you in your endeavors to complete your project."
"Ah, thank you Admiral. Here are the reports you have requested." The Messkeen commander replies, handing a data cartridge to Julin. "I believe you will be pleased with the data. The Captain of the Sword of Justice will remain here for a couple of hours, anticipating your gift."
"Thank you Commander, I'm sure you're already familiar with the ship, you know where to go. Dismissed."
With that, Julin walks out of the transporter room...

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Julin Eurthyr, Admiral
Commander, 673rd Echelon
Commander, ISCS Little Paradise

"It's the suede denim secret police. They've come for your uncool niece."
Last words heard from the hru'hfe at the beginning of a Tal'shiar raid of the house

[This message has been edited by Julin Eurthyr (edited 12-16-2001).]

IP: Logged
 
J'inn
Ensign   posted 12-16-2001 01:43 AM                 
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For the past two days J'inn had been in a rage, traveling all over the planet trying to find Kzinbane. He had popped in on every Lyran on the planet that the scanners had located. The darn place was crawling with them. Stupid peace negotiations he had thought over the days. He had had no luck whatsoever, however. Kzinbane just could not be located. Tired and a little calmer he had transported back to the Capital city.
"Yes, officer, I understand officer, yes I'll slow down sir, I promise." J'inn said as he received the speeding ticket from the Miraki Police Officer. His position as a high ranking government official had been the only thing that had prevented him from getting arrested. Thankfully, he had also cooled down a little. Not much, but enough to conclude that he could never find Kzinbane without help. He reached for his communicator only to pickup a broken mass of circuits. "Damn!" He thought as he remembered slamming the device against the dashboard when he hung up from Doomee. A vision of his red 1999 Ferrari F-50 being towed away by the gorgeous she-demon danced through his head. It's trunk loaded with his video recordings of every NFL Football game ever played. But no. It would have to all be replaced. Somehow. He had a Lyran to hunt and a wedding to avoid. With no way to call the one group of people who could help him, he drove off in the direction of the Ministry.

Upon entering the lobby of the Information Ministry building, J'inn passed through security and entered his private turbolift..

"Destination" a computerized voice stated.

"Sub-basement Omega." J'inn replied.

"That is a secure area. DNA scan confirmed. Password please." The disembodied voice ordered.

"No good deed goes unpunished." J'inn stated.

"ID confirmed." The turbolift stated as it started it's two mile journey down into the crust of the planet. For deep beneath the Ministry was the location of the division that ran all clandestine operations on behalf of the Miraki Intelligence Service Taskforce. For there lie the dreaded offices of the Miraki Committee for State Security.

The turbolift doors opened to a small room with a beautiful Miraki female sitting at a desk. Her left hand was holding a padd. Her right hand, under the desk, gripped the stock of a phaser rifle. Seeing J'inn, she relaxed and said "Sir! The Deputy Minister has been trying to reach you for an hour. He is frantic. She glanced at the door to the war room nervously.

Obviously, the Deputy Minister (Operations) was within. Also, J'inn took note the new emblem of the C..S.S. was still not affixed to the war room door. Apparently, the Committee's artist, Mako, had STILL not completed his duties. J'inn would have to have a word with him at a quieter time.

The war room was a darkened circular room approximately 30 feet in diameter. A large circular table occupied the center of the room. At it sat the DMO. He was much older than J'inn and very professional. He tended to go by the book. Something which J'inn rarely did. J'inn, however, was wise enough to appreciate the natural counter balance of their styles.

Upon seeing J'inn, the DMO came to attention and stated "Minister, it is good to see you. I have been trying to reach you for over an hour. We have multiple situations. The threat board hasn't been this hot since the last war."

"Handle it DMO!" J'inn yelled. "Right now I've got more important work for the Committee. I want Kzinbane found immediately. Use every asset we have on the planet to achieve this. Once his locale has been determined. So inform me. Do not under any circumstances detain him though, He is mine! And another thing, about the emblem . . ."

"Sir!" the DMO interrupted. "A Polka Bomb has been detonated on Vulcan!"

With that statement J'inn felt his knees go weak. A Polka Bomb! They had been outlawed by the Treaty of Riza under the Weapons of Dishonor Clause. For some odd reason, which J'inn still didn't understand, many of the races had also tried to have disco music banned as well. Kor, however, had used his political muscle to table this proposal.

But a Polka Bomb! Only the most evil or the most desperate would resort to such a device. While the bomb itself was bad enough, the sounds it emitted prior to detonation caused agonizing pain to anyone within hearing distance. Most would be left permanently brain damaged. Especially the logic sensitive Vulcans. It was, ironically, the lucky who died in the secondary blast. For some odd reason, however, the audio portion of the device did not work on humans. It merely caused them to drink lots of beer, spin around, and talk about some place called Cleveland.

For years before their eventual outlaw, Polka Bombs were touted by many of the anti-Federation propaganda sources as a Federation device for cleansing the universe of non-humans. Some still believed this. Therefore, the detonation of a Polka Bomb carried significant moral and political costs.

"Sit down." J'inn whispered as he did then same. "Tell me everything."

"Sir, two hours ago a Polka Bomb disguised as the Hydran Captain Kai Lee detonated at the Lyran/Hydran peace talks that were being held on Vulcan. Casualties were high. It's all in here." The DMO handed a padd to J'inn. "However," he continued, "there are certain highlights."

"Go on" J'inn said as he scrolled through the report.

"The Lyran ambassador and the "Hydran" were both transported to the conference by the USS Love Machine."

"Hondo!" J'inn said in shock.

"Yes, sir. I'm afraid so. Our assets have this matter coded Priority Alpha and we hope to get further intel soon. However, at this point we cannot determine what roll, if any, Hondo played. "

J'inn looked at the screens that ringed the room. There were eight sections and each had a monitor. That is, except for the Federation, which had two. Beneath one was the name of the Admiral in charge of Starfleet Intelligence. Beneath the other was simply the name "Hondo." Very few people in the entire universe knew why.

"If that psycho was within five parsecs of a Polka Bomb I want to know why and I want to know why now!" J'inn ordered.

"We're on it sir." the DMO replied. "However, sir, that is not all. We have confirmed our earlier reports that Admiral Drake was on Remus for at least one hour several days ago. We do not know why."

"I was afraid of that." J'inn confirmed. "I asked Ole to look into it. He has not reported back as of yet. We need to tell him, however, that the reports are now confirmed. Make it so."

"Yes, sir." The DMO acknowledged and then continued with his report. "We have also confirmed that Drake is actively recruiting Hydran starship captains for his fleet. His inquiries have been limited to officers who are pro-Collation. For months he has been petitioning the Hydran government to reconsider it's membership in the Alliance. His anger over the pacification of Hydra by the ISC is well known. As is his blaming the Alliance for what he sees as an ineffectual defense of the Hydran Homeworld during the ISC-Klingon assault.

"A vocal minority in the Hydran government and military agree with him to one degree or another. However, it had been believed by Miraki Intelligence that this was purely a political matter and not one which could create the possibility of a civil war. Recent events have caused us to re-think this conclusion. Hydra is a tinderbox, and I fear Drake may be gathering kindling and matches. If Hydra abandons the Alliance it would leave only the Federation, the Gorn and the Mirak standing against the other great powers. Such an unbalance of power, historically, has always led to war. Sir, we must become involved in this matter. But at this point we do not have enough information to formulate an appropriate operational plan."

J'inn smiled. In Committee speak the DMO had just said "We don't know who to kill, how to kill them, or how to get away with it yet."

"The Polka incident is not all." The DMO continued. "The unrest in Klingon space is increasing. Gorn Intelligence is investigating. Furthermore, there have been reports of some skirmishes on the Lyran border. The Warchief has promised a full report later this afternoon.

"What bothers me the most sir, is the network." The DMO gestured to the monitors on the wall. "The Coalition members would not respond. As for the Alliance members: Ole and Hondo's whereabouts are unknown. The Gorn's would only state that S'Cipio is on a diplomatic mission. And Starfleet Intelligence is in a complete dither over the Polka Bomb."

"DMO" J'inn stated. "Keep me updated as to these situations, by the by, I'll be picking up a new communicator I'll get the number to you. Also, FIND KZINBANE NOW!! First I have a Lyran to tear limb from limb. Then I have to get to the Jalix system. I think I may find out more about the Hydran situation there. You'll have to hold down the fort DMO." And with that J'inn reported his conversation with Janus.

Meanwhile at the Officers' Club . . .

Locked within the now quarantined by the Committee for State Security Miraki Officers' Club, M'Ress had been busy the past two days. He had used the replicators to create a new wardrobe which consisted of baggy orange pants, a loose fitting tan shirt, beach thongs on his feet, and a large multi-colored beret woven from yarn. He had also braided the long fur on his head so that it hung like a mass of dead vipers from beneath his hat. With the sounds of Bob Marley blasting in the background, he activated the comm panel.

Aboard a shiny new Miraki MDC+ class warship on a shakedown cruise near Mraa, KAT-K'arbin dragged himself to wakefulness, slapped the comm panel, and groaned: 'It's 0-dark-30 SIGs, this had BETTER be good."

"Sir, a message from Captain M'Ress for you on Fleet comm line Alpha." the XO responded.

Line Alpha was for war warnings ONLY!, K'arbin thought.

"Pipe it down here." He ordered. The screen then cleared and there was M Ress, with some funny head piece and some kind of film on the camera lens.

"Hey mon, I be need'en som 'elp. Is dat crazy mon J'inn. He wantin me and ship be like taxi for h'im, ride over to the land of the three legs. Jest get nice colors and new boom box on me ride, do'nt be needin him bust it all up. Tink you be 'elpin, cover de backdoor. Wacha say mon?"

"Oh No!" K'arbin thought. "His friend of many years had finally keep his lips on the hookah pipe for too long." While CatNip syndrome took many forms there was no mistaking that is what had happened to his friend M'Ress

"Well, I just got this new MDC+ and the crew's still working it up and..."

"Hey mon, you owe me. Dat Blue Dragon tink..??"

"By my hairballs, YOU WOULD call me on that one...OK, where are you and where do you need me."

After the info was past, K'arbin know it had to be bad. No friend, even one ODed on CatNip would call in a marker for the Blue Dragon incident unless they were up to there nose in frog droppings. He sighed to the cruel universe, 'I FINALLY get a new ship and what happens, I have to fly cover to an insurance disaster prima donna and a furball junkie. There Ain't No Justice.

"XO" K'arbin ordered into the Comm panel. "The shakedown is over. Replace the practice drones with warshots, ready the ship for battle, and set course for Mraa. Maximum Warp. Also, I need everything we have on a Hydran Commander named Janus ASAP!"

Co-Authored by K'arbin
English language mangled by J'inn

[This message has been edited by J'inn (edited 12-16-2001).]

 

[Gook]

Julin Eurthyr
Ensign   posted 12-16-2001 01:53 AM                 
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RP Off. The following is presented in order to let you know what I've got going on so you could start writing this into your stories.
The data contained herein has never been transmitted via subspace at all, only delivered from one person to another via secure systems / carts, given only to screened and tested agents involved in the project. Therefore, no spies know of this yet!
RP on
To the chamber of the
Concordian Senate
ISC Prime
From the office of the
Commander, 673rd Echelon
Julin Eurthyr, Admiral
ISCS Little Paradise

Honored Senators,

Recently, our plans to introduce a chemical pacification drug via commonly injested foods was discovered, and has failed. The first food was identified, and banned quadrant wide, while a here-to-now unrecognized organization, W.A.N.K.E.R., was instrumental in the desctruction of our second agent.

Therefore, I have determined, and started, a project to deliver this drug via much more subtle, and insidious means.

This project must be capable of pacifying both the normal militaries, and the members of such covert organizations such as W.A.N.K.E.R.. The delivery method has been customized to do just that, and we have added a sub-component that will ensure rapid spread of the pacification drug.

The agent that will actually convey the drug is a viral type infection, that has been designed to concentrate in specific bodily fluids and fingernail / claw type materials. This viral agent is designed to create 2 chemicals which are introduced directly into the bloodstream, one of which is the pacification drug, the other is a racial sexual enhancer.

Now, I understand the Senate is already familiar with the first chemical, so I will only describe the rational behind the second chemical and the viral design / behavioral patterns.

Due to the fact that the Virus is non-airborne, we are restricted to a liquified / touch method of transmittal. Once a person is infected, we need to spread it quickly to other members / organizations in an effort to pacify the many in as short of a time as possible. Since the current situation is multi-genderal, there must be multiple transmission methods in order to insure the rapid and widespread delivery of this virus, which has been determined.

The initial introduction of the agent into an area will be via a substance that W.A.N.K.E.R. will least suspect, while the majority of the community will accept readily, namely, mildly intoxicating materials, primarily alcohol and catnip. Once introduced to the race via those who are indoctrinated/addicted to these materials, they will become the second delivery method of the viral agent, primarily through certain, to be polite, male / female activities that promote the exchange of bodily fluids, or the use of fingernails / claws in such a way that enables those areas to flake off minute traces of them in a target's bloodstream.
The first alternate delivery method is the primary delivery method to infect the membership of W.A.N.K.E.R., for our sources have reported that many of them are married and engage in certain activities on at least a semi-regular basis, primarily with those who shall be recipients of the initial deliveries.

The virus will start synthesizing the chemicals shortly after infection. The pacification agent will take time to build in the bloodstream, thereby not immediately changing a person, allowing time for the second agent, primarily a sexual enhancement drug, to work it's course, which will make the infected want to pass on the virus through those means as often as possible, hopefully to more than the people they normally deal with.

At this time, a delivery method has been secured for all the races except for those of felinoid stock, namely the Mirak and Lyrans. We have determined that once we can integrate our virus into catnip, we can deliver it that way to both felinoid races, allowing the plan to work to it's full course, thereby pacifying the galaxy.

Thank you for your consideration in this matter.

Julin Eurthyr, Admiral
Commander, 673rd "Jello" Echelon

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Julin Eurthyr, Admiral
Commander, 673rd Echelon
Commander, ISCS Little Paradise

"It's the suede denim secret police. They've come for your uncool niece."
Last words heard from the hru'hfe at the beginning of a Tal'shiar raid of the house

IP: Logged
 
Hondo_8
Ensign   posted 12-16-2001 11:30 AM             
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?Damn Ensign I said I wanted those Christmas lights on the out side of the ship along with Santa Clause?s sled!? shouted an impatient Captain Hondo.
?Yes sir right away sir? The Ensign scurries off to the air lock chamber with several crew men to put on there space walking suites to begin the laborious task of making the USS. Love Machine into Santa?s sled.

Captain Hondo walks off the bridge shaking his head at his crew?s incompetence and enters his ready room. He sits down on his been bag and flips on his viewer and begins placing orders to be replicated and gift-wrapped. Hondo mutters to himself laughing, ? Hehehe this will be great. Ho ho ho?the Klinks will love this? Hondo flicks on his communicator ? This is the Captain is the speaker system ready to broadcast out side off the ship? I need that damn Christmas music blaring and a some jolly chuckles if we are going to pull off our Christmas run to the Klingon Home world.? Hondo flips the switch off not bothering to listen for a response. ? Hehehe I can?t what for the klingons to open up there presents early. I guess Christmas will have to come early?.?

The bridge officers voice cuts off Hondo?s train of thought ? Captain to the Bridge? Hondo grunts as he rolls off his been bag and walks to the replicate to get some egg nog before heading to the bridge.

Captain Hondo comes to the Bridge to see on the view screen the visage of Thrian with a nasty cut on his head. ?What the hell is he doing on TV?? Thrain grins at hearing this and looks at Hondo. ? Hondo I need to speak with you. I want to meet you at Star base 42 so that I can ask you some questions about the incident at Vulcan.? Hondo sips his eggnog as he strolls to the view screen. ? Thrain y?.o..u..r..Bbbbrrreeaakiiinggg upppp?? Hondo looks at the communications officer and uses his thumb to swipe across his neck. The international sign for cut him off. The communication officer looks puzzled at Hondo not knowing what to make of her captain. ? HONDO! Cut the crap I can see what your doing and there is no problem with our communication link.? Thrain growls angrily.

Hondo paces back and forth gulping down his eggnog. ?Thrain I have no Idea what your talking about in fact Love Boat is coming on so I?m going to have to switch channels.? At their Captains mention of Love Boat the communication officer switches Thrain for Love Boat. Hondo strips down to skives and plops in the hot tub waiving over his nurse, that it was bath time.


The USS Jessie James breaks off from a freighter group.

?Damn it!? Thrian pounds his captain?s chair with his fist. A young duty officer approaches Thrain with a report ?Sir we are begin to receive reports from freighters, they say that they have been molested by the USS Love Machine? Thrain flips through the report muttering ? Beast Ice being launched at freighters. Water Balloons? What the?.Replicated snowballs being slung with a tractor beam??..this is nuts.? Thrain scratches his head. ? Ensign calculate this plot positions and report to me any planets or military targets along its course.? Thrian hands off the report to the ensign who then feeds the info into the computer. ? Sir if this is correct then Captain Hondo seems to be heading to the Klingon Home world.? Thrain looks flabbergasted and walks hurriedly to his captain?s room.

In the captains room many war decorations consisting off skulls of enemy pilots grace Thrains walls. Thrain sits down in his leather chair and turns on his computer. ? Starfleet command this is Captain Thrian, I believe that Captain Hondo is headed for Klingon space to there home world?..With his past training with the Klingon warriors, and being that he is on friendly terms with many of them I regret to say that I think Captain Hondo might be changing sides.? Thrian frowns as his last words slips out of his mouth, and waits fro a response. Suddenly Captain Jeff appears on the screen visibly disturbed. ?Thrain we can not allow Hondo to switch sides I mean this is not acceptable. You need to intercept his ship before he reaches Klingon space and capture him?Hondo must not be taking his blue pills again and has lost his last marbles. I mean to go from Fed to Klink is not sane?Thrain, Hondo needs to be locked up again in his padded cell until the next campaign. Go get him? With that the screen goes dark leaving Thrain in his chambers leaning back in his chair drumming his fingers against his desk deep in thought.


IP: Logged
 
DarkElf
Ensign   posted 12-16-2001 01:31 PM                 
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DarkElf and the Intelligence were patroling around the Klingon-Federation Neutral Zone when suddenly he was interrupted by his communications officer.
"Sir, we are being hailed by Captain Trail of the Jesse James." "Onscreen,' he ordered.

"Captain, we have an urgent mission for you. Captain Hondo has went AWOL and apprently is heading toward the Klingon Boarder. We believe he is responsible for the Polka bombing on Vulcan."

"POLKA?! Surely not...."

"I'm afraid so. He refused to a direct order to return. We have been ordered to intercept him, but I need your help to capture his ship. I'm going to need your help to capture him. Your orders are to intercept and delay him until we can arrive."

"Understood. Intelligence Out." He then turned sat down in his Captains Chair. "Red Alert, battlestations. Helm, set course to intercept the Love Machine."

They soon had reached the Love Machine, and he ordered the vessel onscreen. The entire bridge crew gasped. It has been painted Red and White, with Christmas Lights. It also had unusual objects placed throughout the ships exterior.

"My....GOD! What the...," Darkelf said in a state of shock, but his communications officer interrupted, "We are being hailed by the Love Machine."

"Onscreen." It was Hondo dressed up in a Santa Suit in his hottub. Obviously he hadent taken his medication

"My little elf, your in my way for my annual delivary of toys to the Klingon Empire. Get out of my way. Nurse, your not scrubbing by back hard enough!

"Hondo! I am not your little Elf! Stand down now."

"Your being very naughty, but no worry. I have some presents for you," the comm link ended.

Immediately his Tactical Officer jumped in, "Sir, our warp core is being bombared with coal, ice, and my god! Reports of polka music!"

The ships engines went crazy and the ship started to spin out of control. The ships computer blared "WARNING: Damage to warp core, Containment failure in seven minutes!"

"Attempt to repair the engines! Prepare to evacuate the Stardrive section if they can't fix the problem in three minutes! Damn you Hondo!"

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J'inn
Ensign   posted 12-16-2001 02:59 PM                 
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R/P OFF (sorta):
Klingons! Run for your lives! Santa's coming to town and he knows you have been very, very naughty!

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And now (a concept I have stolen completly form Goose (I have no shame)) a word from our sponsor:

Ed McMahon comes on your screen.

Are you the despot of a small planet or group of planets? Have you been unable to destroy strategic targets due to the overwhelming force of your enemies? Well . . . Have I got good news for you.

The Mirak. Yes, the Mirak, are here to help. Need a pirate base blown to bits overnight. Call the Mirak. Need an enemy Dreadnought turned to rubble quickly. That's right. Call the Mirak. You'll find their fees are reasonable and they accept all major credit cards. Hey, they even clean up the nasty post bombardment mess for you. Don't ask how.

Your enemies destroyed. No fuss. No muss.

THE MIRAK!! When it absolutely, positively has to be destroyed overnight!

Call 1-800-GOMIRAK for a free estimate.

And now, back to our feature presentation. (Okay I stole a little from the U.S.M.C. too)

IP: Logged
 
corbin369
Ensign   posted 12-16-2001 03:35 PM                 
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On board the Mirak MDC+ Week Slayer, Capt. K'arbin and his XO Commander F'raged watch the stars whip by.
'Sir, we have the racks changed over and loaded with war shots. Can you tell me why we've been taken off our shake down patrol?'
'The short story is Capt. MRess has asked us to escort him to the Hydran border...that's for the crew. For you MRess has Cat-Nip Overdose Syndrom and Minister J'inn has ordered MRess to take him to the border. I don't think the crew would like being ordered on such a mission so..we won't tell them.'
F'raged's face had horror written all over it.
'I know what your thinking,' K'arbin contuned, 'and NO you can't have a transfer.'
The horror for F'raged only deepened
'So, I want more battle drills and more damage control drills. See to it.'
F'raged had almost escaped the ready room when K'arbin said the scariest thing of all.
'Oh, and XO, life boat drills. LOTS of life boat drills.'
 

[Gook]

Scipio_66
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 12:12 AM                 
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"Lord Admiral S?Cipio?" Inquired a pestering voice. S?Cipio didn?t want to answer the voice. He was in this comfy dark tunnel, and the light down at the other end seemed all warm, happy, and fuzzy. He wanted to walk down and enjoy the light, but the voice kept interrupting.
"Admiral S?Cipio!! Kahless demands that you answer me!!" Obviously the annoying voice wasn?t going to stop. Maybe if he opened his eyes and saw who it was he could tell it to go away. Then he might get to go back to sleep and see the nice light at the end of the tunnel.

S?Cipio opened his eys and blinked under the glare of harsh phospherescene. He was laid out on an operating gurny within a very crowded medical ward. Screams of the dying could be heard, and scents of the dead were overpowering. The face of Dogmatix glared over him. Being Q?onosian Klingon, it was not a pretty face. S?Cipio wanted to go back to sleep and forget he had seen it. S?Treleg, his adjutant, dry washed his hands nervously behind Dogmatix, and shook with relief that the Admiral had awakened.

"I?m sorry I couldn?t wake you sooner," spoke a human doctor from S?Cipio?s right. "We tried all our hyposprays and needles, but none could penetrate your Gorn hide." A Klingon orderly, holding a very long and thick needle (some would call it a pike) looked dissapointed at not getting a chance to try *his* version of a hypdermic.

"Thhe Tugthn", said S?Cipio thickly.

"Eh?" asked the doctor.

"The tongue," filled in S?Treleg. All gorn sssubcutaneous medicinesss are adminissstered through the tongue. It?sss the only soft tissue we have on our bodiesss. I *did* try to tell you." Dogmatix, the doctor, and the orderly all looked at S?Cipio?s jawline and then dryly back at S?Treleg. Not one of them had been about to put their hand into a Gorn?s mouth.

"I wasss on my way to a meeting with the Federation Inssspection Team...." began S?Cipio, trying to recover his memories of the last several hours. He noted absently that several of the dying had stopped screaming.

"Your path led you by one of our administrative centers." Stated Dogmatix in gruff, military tones. "It seems one of our new terrorist cells had chosen it for a target. There was a bomb. I understand there was even Polka music." Dogmatix cut himself with the first scalpel he could find in order to express how much he disapproved of Polka. No one else mentioned what they thought of Dogmatix taste in music. "These terrorist cells do seem to get worse each time *you* visit us, *Inspector*!!."

"You disssapprove of my presence on Klinshai, Captain? The treaty you sssigned said no more fassst dronesss, and yet the alliance is sssure you are ssstill manufacturing them on Klinshai."

"The Klingon Empire should not allow anyone to dictate terms to us! We were not the defeated in the last war! It is an insult to Kahles? memory that your worthless, inferior, and alien feet trod this holy land!"

"Holy land?" asked S?Cipio as he got to his feet. "I rather thought you Q?onosians disssmissed Klinshai asss the home of genetic inferiorsss."

"It is!" screamed Dogmatix, sensing no contradiction.

"And why are you here, Captain? Thissss is not your usual possst"

"If you had died, there would have been trouble with the Gorn Government." Dogmatix leaned closer. "But hear this, Gorn. I know you are up to something. There has been another bombing on Klingon territory. Regardless of the type of vermin that inhabit this planet, I am here to punish the guilty." He leaned even closer to S?Cipio. "*All* of the guilty, Admiral." Then quickly he turned and strode away. S?Cipio noted to himself that he would have to watch Dogmatix. Far too much cunning within that Klingon for a typical Q?onosian.

"Will you be going to the meeting with the Federation envoys now, Lord Admiral?" inquired the human doctor.

"No," replied S?Cipio after checking the time and remembering another, less official meeting. "I still feel unwell. Tell them I will need to reschedule."

S?Cipio and S?Treleg stepped past the dying in their stretchers and into the street-level heat of a Klinshai noon. The streets, the hillsides, the buidlings, even the sky were all the color of sandstone. The press of bodies was thick, the smell of the unwashed was thicker. The swarthy faces of the almost human-looking inhabitants did not wear the expressions of those who had once ruled the Klingon empire.

"You?re late," was the quiet greeting of Kludge as he took up step with the Gorn and hustled them quickly through the crowd. Kludge was a very handsome Klinshai Klingon. He was swarthy, with angular features and thick, jet-black hair which he combed straight back from a sharp widow?s peak. His goatee was perfectly groomed. The thick hair served more than ego, it also served to reinforce the differences between his breed of Klingon and their genetic cousins.

"The bomb," inquired S?Cipio. "It wasss one of yours?"

"Probably," agreed Kludge with no sense of regret. "Your itinerary is known to all our agensts. If you deviate from it even in the slightest, you may be killed. This is Klinshai. It is dangerous"

Kluge led them to a small, thickly walled building within the city square and then took them into an empty room. This much empty space was a luxory within the Klinshai capitol. Kludge stepped up from the sunken floor to a window ledge and looked out over the masses of his own people. "Worthless animals," he grumbled. "Over eight billion Klinshai on this world, even after the NextGen uprising. And they all want to live in the capital city. They are a beaten people, but we will beat the pride back into them."

"You won?t do that with Polka bombsss," hissed S?Treleg.

"No, with the Polka bombs I will beat the pride *out* of the Q?onosians. Then, when the uprising truly starts within their own Deep Space Fleet, we will sweep the Turtleheads before us."

"You?ve been ssssaying thisss for yearsss," chided S?Cipio cynically. "Even before we struck our deal during my CW3 Guerilla war. Am I truly to believe you have garnered support within the Deep Space Fleet?"

"Oh, yes. And as I promised you, the officer in question, with representatives of his fleet, will meet us here shortly."

"I fail to sssee how your selling Polka bombsss to the Hydransss helps any of usss," interjected S?Treleg.

"I don?t know what you are talking about. Besides, I never asked what your Admiral S?Cipio did with the spare parts I sold him during CW3. After your government sells them to us, those bombs are ours. We will do with them as we please."

S?Cipio hissed loudly, the sound of a broken samovar that let the world know in no uncertain terms that he was a very unhappy lizard. His angry retort was cut short as the largest Klinshai Klingon any of them had ever seen kicked open the door. Behind this goliath strode a much smaller man who seemed used to instantly taking charge of those around him.

Kludge?s expected guest moved to the edge of the raised foyer. His Cuban heels clicked on the floor, and an ornate, silver-headed cane rapped out a counter rythm. His billowing long coat floated out behind him. An impossibly fluffy Persian cat perched upon his left shoulder. He reached up to stroke the cat with his right hand as he surveyed the room?s occupants.

His face lit up like a wicked child?s. "Squiggalicious!" he grinned evily.

-S?Cipio


------------------
Neighbors said he was a quiet man, who kept mostly to himself.


[This message has been edited by Scipio_66 (edited 12-17-2001).]

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Julin Eurthyr
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 12:50 AM                 
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Flag Briefing Room, ISCS Little Paradise
"... and none of this would have been possible without the assistance of Commander Annlova, Miraki intelligence division." The Meeskeen Commander steps down, and returns to his seat.
"So, this means that our latest pacification plan is ready to be implemented, correct Commander?"
"Yes, Admiral Eurthyr. All we need is to synthesize the agent, and find somewhere to deliver it."
"Sir, there is still that large convoy of Catnip in Mirak space, I'm sure that will be the best place to strike."
"Thank you Commander Annlova, that sounds like the place to start. Is the wormhole generator functional?"
"Yes sir," the rarely heard from Captain of the LP reports, "I can have the Echelon there in 20 minutes."
"Well, any pirates in the area?"
"Pirates, Admiral?"
"Yes commander, pirates. Who else to crack open a convoy then pirates?"
"Let's get this plan under way, dismissed."
Flag Bridge, ISCS Little Paradise
"... and so, captain, all we need is for you to help us sneak these devices into all the Catnip in this convoy, we'll give you a lift out to the convoy and back. You will be compensated well for your assistance." Julin leans back, awaiting the response of the pirate captain.
"Vell, it ees a good plan, I agree. Vhen do ve leave?"
"Sir, wormhole generator at full charge!" the engineer shouts.
"Now, my kind friend, now." With the anticipation of starting a new operation, Julin leans forward in his command chair, as he issues the "Shall we?" command.
Soon, the Wormhole is generated, and both the pirate group and the 673rd find themselves just outside of sensor range of the Mirak Catnip Convoy.

Mirak space, the Catnip Convoy
The pirates head in first, and start assaulting the freighters. Guards die, supplies are laced. About 10 minutes later, when the coded "mission completed" results are sent, the 673rd warps in, and prevents the pirates from "capturing" the convoy, via complete destruction of the pirate fleet.
"Commander, Mirak Convoy, this is Admiral Eurthyr, of the 673rd Echelon, ISC. We are sorry to find you have been assaulted by pirates, and stand ready to render assistance, as necessary. Out."
Hours later, with the "assistance" of ISC engineers and crew, it is confirmed that the supplies are all intact, and the ships are repaired, and they continue on their journey to their final destination. As a special request, a few crates of Catnip are trnasferred to the Little Paradise, as a thank you for saving the convoy. Inspecting the packages, and noting they are properly infected, Julin beams a smile to Annlova, where they proceed to "test the effects of catnip" in privacy...


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Julin Eurthyr, Admiral
Commander, 673rd Echelon
Commander, ISCS Little Paradise

"It's the suede denim secret police. They've come for your uncool niece."
Last words heard from the hru'hfe at the beginning of a Tal'shiar raid of the house

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Hondo_8
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 07:47 AM             
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The Starship USS. Love Machine in all its Christmas glory continues to blaze a trail towards the kilingon Home world. With in the bowels of the ship, the Captain with a martini in his hand faces a view screen.
?Hondo?Captain Hondo?here.? He smiles a nasty smile, as his eyes seem to look past the image in the view screen of Pharaoh.

?Hondo if my government even knew I was dealing with you I would be banished?lets get this over with quick.? Sweat beads upon Pharos?s brow and he uses a handkerchief to dab it away.

?Pharaoh I am not the one who asked for a certain section to help you out here?. but I am glad you did. Your promise of Pussie Galore to be my new nurse has given me new reasons to install a bigger hot tub on my bridge?but I drift from my point. It seems my success with the polka bombs is better then I thought, the Klingon faction believes it was Hydrain and vice versa, a nice mess at best. Who would have thought the Klingons hated polka music?I mean look at that Dogmatix he would seem to be the polka type?why I bet he has a Laurence Whelk collection stashed away in his ship.? Pharaoh interrupts Hondo ?Hondo get on with it I?m running out of time.? Hondo sips his drink and continues ? After my delivery to the Klingon Home world I think the ISC will truly realize their mistake in having the Klingons for allies, I mean after this, Betty Crocker will seem more of a threat.? Hondo starts to laugh madly and turns off his view screen leaving Pharaoh with no more.

Hondo sits in his room for several minutes before stirring, He rolls out of his been bag and heads out of his quarters. He takes the turbo lift to deck twelve and heads for the holo deck. Hondo speaks to himself as he punches in his program for the Holo deck.

?Welcome Captain Hondo?. Alliance possibilities program is running?. Hola deck doors are secure?security scan complete. It is safe to enter Sector 31 simulator.? Hondo enters the simulator after the voice prompts him it is secure. Captain Hondo looks around the room past memories stirring to the surface. Off to the left along the wall lies the Federation expansion possibilities board, Hondo thinks ?To think I spent countless hours battling my instructors during simulation on that thing and never once lost to them?. I wonder If any of my friends would believe me if I told them truth.? The Captain sits into a lazy boy and wipes his eyes clean from the tears brewing there. ? How many shall have to die before the Federation size equals our might.? His eyes drift to the center of the room where stands the super computer that is able to run all commands aspects of the federation during events of emergency. ? Ahh I imagine this place must be a bee hive of activity?. I can just imagine what the Federation Council would do if they even new what kind of influence we had here.? Hondo rises from his seat and walks to the north wall entering a door and coming out into the strategic planning room, a large map is projected in to the air showing all know species and alliances. Hondo punches in a few codes and quickly narrows down the Hydran space and Romulan space zooming in on the Hydran out worlds. ? Now as planned the FPF will be dispatched here after my delivery?. a federation fleet in Hydran space will definitely increase tensions with our two empires and if I?m lucky I can weaken the romulan fleet while the ambush is set.?

Hondo walks out of the Hola deck to his chambers entering a log. ? All is going as planned.?

The Captain pushes the comm. Button. ? Bridge this is your Captain, Hondo?Captain Hondo. I need a matinee shaken not stirred. And make sure the trampoline is set up on the bridge, I feel like a tigger, and tiggers are bouncy cause that?s what we do best.? Hondo laughs.

The bridge crew shakes there head and scurry to set up the trampoline.


 

[Gook]

Julin Eurthyr
Ensign   posted 12-16-2001 01:53 AM                 
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RP Off. The following is presented in order to let you know what I've got going on so you could start writing this into your stories.
The data contained herein has never been transmitted via subspace at all, only delivered from one person to another via secure systems / carts, given only to screened and tested agents involved in the project. Therefore, no spies know of this yet!
RP on
To the chamber of the
Concordian Senate
ISC Prime
From the office of the
Commander, 673rd Echelon
Julin Eurthyr, Admiral
ISCS Little Paradise

Honored Senators,

Recently, our plans to introduce a chemical pacification drug via commonly injested foods was discovered, and has failed. The first food was identified, and banned quadrant wide, while a here-to-now unrecognized organization, W.A.N.K.E.R., was instrumental in the desctruction of our second agent.

Therefore, I have determined, and started, a project to deliver this drug via much more subtle, and insidious means.

This project must be capable of pacifying both the normal militaries, and the members of such covert organizations such as W.A.N.K.E.R.. The delivery method has been customized to do just that, and we have added a sub-component that will ensure rapid spread of the pacification drug.

The agent that will actually convey the drug is a viral type infection, that has been designed to concentrate in specific bodily fluids and fingernail / claw type materials. This viral agent is designed to create 2 chemicals which are introduced directly into the bloodstream, one of which is the pacification drug, the other is a racial sexual enhancer.

Now, I understand the Senate is already familiar with the first chemical, so I will only describe the rational behind the second chemical and the viral design / behavioral patterns.

Due to the fact that the Virus is non-airborne, we are restricted to a liquified / touch method of transmittal. Once a person is infected, we need to spread it quickly to other members / organizations in an effort to pacify the many in as short of a time as possible. Since the current situation is multi-genderal, there must be multiple transmission methods in order to insure the rapid and widespread delivery of this virus, which has been determined.

The initial introduction of the agent into an area will be via a substance that W.A.N.K.E.R. will least suspect, while the majority of the community will accept readily, namely, mildly intoxicating materials, primarily alcohol and catnip. Once introduced to the race via those who are indoctrinated/addicted to these materials, they will become the second delivery method of the viral agent, primarily through certain, to be polite, male / female activities that promote the exchange of bodily fluids, or the use of fingernails / claws in such a way that enables those areas to flake off minute traces of them in a target's bloodstream.
The first alternate delivery method is the primary delivery method to infect the membership of W.A.N.K.E.R., for our sources have reported that many of them are married and engage in certain activities on at least a semi-regular basis, primarily with those who shall be recipients of the initial deliveries.

The virus will start synthesizing the chemicals shortly after infection. The pacification agent will take time to build in the bloodstream, thereby not immediately changing a person, allowing time for the second agent, primarily a sexual enhancement drug, to work it's course, which will make the infected want to pass on the virus through those means as often as possible, hopefully to more than the people they normally deal with.

At this time, a delivery method has been secured for all the races except for those of felinoid stock, namely the Mirak and Lyrans. We have determined that once we can integrate our virus into catnip, we can deliver it that way to both felinoid races, allowing the plan to work to it's full course, thereby pacifying the galaxy.

Thank you for your consideration in this matter.

Julin Eurthyr, Admiral
Commander, 673rd "Jello" Echelon

------------------
Julin Eurthyr, Admiral
Commander, 673rd Echelon
Commander, ISCS Little Paradise

"It's the suede denim secret police. They've come for your uncool niece."
Last words heard from the hru'hfe at the beginning of a Tal'shiar raid of the house

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Hondo_8
Ensign   posted 12-16-2001 11:30 AM             
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?Damn Ensign I said I wanted those Christmas lights on the out side of the ship along with Santa Clause?s sled!? shouted an impatient Captain Hondo.
?Yes sir right away sir? The Ensign scurries off to the air lock chamber with several crew men to put on there space walking suites to begin the laborious task of making the USS. Love Machine into Santa?s sled.

Captain Hondo walks off the bridge shaking his head at his crew?s incompetence and enters his ready room. He sits down on his been bag and flips on his viewer and begins placing orders to be replicated and gift-wrapped. Hondo mutters to himself laughing, ? Hehehe this will be great. Ho ho ho?the Klinks will love this? Hondo flicks on his communicator ? This is the Captain is the speaker system ready to broadcast out side off the ship? I need that damn Christmas music blaring and a some jolly chuckles if we are going to pull off our Christmas run to the Klingon Home world.? Hondo flips the switch off not bothering to listen for a response. ? Hehehe I can?t what for the klingons to open up there presents early. I guess Christmas will have to come early?.?

The bridge officers voice cuts off Hondo?s train of thought ? Captain to the Bridge? Hondo grunts as he rolls off his been bag and walks to the replicate to get some egg nog before heading to the bridge.

Captain Hondo comes to the Bridge to see on the view screen the visage of Thrian with a nasty cut on his head. ?What the hell is he doing on TV?? Thrain grins at hearing this and looks at Hondo. ? Hondo I need to speak with you. I want to meet you at Star base 42 so that I can ask you some questions about the incident at Vulcan.? Hondo sips his eggnog as he strolls to the view screen. ? Thrain y?.o..u..r..Bbbbrrreeaakiiinggg upppp?? Hondo looks at the communications officer and uses his thumb to swipe across his neck. The international sign for cut him off. The communication officer looks puzzled at Hondo not knowing what to make of her captain. ? HONDO! Cut the crap I can see what your doing and there is no problem with our communication link.? Thrain growls angrily.

Hondo paces back and forth gulping down his eggnog. ?Thrain I have no Idea what your talking about in fact Love Boat is coming on so I?m going to have to switch channels.? At their Captains mention of Love Boat the communication officer switches Thrain for Love Boat. Hondo strips down to skives and plops in the hot tub waiving over his nurse, that it was bath time.


The USS Jessie James breaks off from a freighter group.

?Damn it!? Thrian pounds his captain?s chair with his fist. A young duty officer approaches Thrain with a report ?Sir we are begin to receive reports from freighters, they say that they have been molested by the USS Love Machine? Thrain flips through the report muttering ? Beast Ice being launched at freighters. Water Balloons? What the?.Replicated snowballs being slung with a tractor beam??..this is nuts.? Thrain scratches his head. ? Ensign calculate this plot positions and report to me any planets or military targets along its course.? Thrian hands off the report to the ensign who then feeds the info into the computer. ? Sir if this is correct then Captain Hondo seems to be heading to the Klingon Home world.? Thrain looks flabbergasted and walks hurriedly to his captain?s room.

In the captains room many war decorations consisting off skulls of enemy pilots grace Thrains walls. Thrain sits down in his leather chair and turns on his computer. ? Starfleet command this is Captain Thrian, I believe that Captain Hondo is headed for Klingon space to there home world?..With his past training with the Klingon warriors, and being that he is on friendly terms with many of them I regret to say that I think Captain Hondo might be changing sides.? Thrian frowns as his last words slips out of his mouth, and waits fro a response. Suddenly Captain Jeff appears on the screen visibly disturbed. ?Thrain we can not allow Hondo to switch sides I mean this is not acceptable. You need to intercept his ship before he reaches Klingon space and capture him?Hondo must not be taking his blue pills again and has lost his last marbles. I mean to go from Fed to Klink is not sane?Thrain, Hondo needs to be locked up again in his padded cell until the next campaign. Go get him? With that the screen goes dark leaving Thrain in his chambers leaning back in his chair drumming his fingers against his desk deep in thought.


 

[Gook]

DarkElf
Ensign   posted 12-16-2001 01:31 PM                 
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DarkElf and the Intelligence were patroling around the Klingon-Federation Neutral Zone when suddenly he was interrupted by his communications officer.
"Sir, we are being hailed by Captain Trail of the Jesse James." "Onscreen,' he ordered.

"Captain, we have an urgent mission for you. Captain Hondo has went AWOL and apprently is heading toward the Klingon Boarder. We believe he is responsible for the Polka bombing on Vulcan."

"POLKA?! Surely not...."

"I'm afraid so. He refused to a direct order to return. We have been ordered to intercept him, but I need your help to capture his ship. I'm going to need your help to capture him. Your orders are to intercept and delay him until we can arrive."

"Understood. Intelligence Out." He then turned sat down in his Captains Chair. "Red Alert, battlestations. Helm, set course to intercept the Love Machine."

They soon had reached the Love Machine, and he ordered the vessel onscreen. The entire bridge crew gasped. It has been painted Red and White, with Christmas Lights. It also had unusual objects placed throughout the ships exterior.

"My....GOD! What the...," Darkelf said in a state of shock, but his communications officer interrupted, "We are being hailed by the Love Machine."

"Onscreen." It was Hondo dressed up in a Santa Suit in his hottub. Obviously he hadent taken his medication

"My little elf, your in my way for my annual delivary of toys to the Klingon Empire. Get out of my way. Nurse, your not scrubbing by back hard enough!

"Hondo! I am not your little Elf! Stand down now."

"Your being very naughty, but no worry. I have some presents for you," the comm link ended.

Immediately his Tactical Officer jumped in, "Sir, our warp core is being bombared with coal, ice, and my god! Reports of polka music!"

The ships engines went crazy and the ship started to spin out of control. The ships computer blared "WARNING: Damage to warp core, Containment failure in seven minutes!"

"Attempt to repair the engines! Prepare to evacuate the Stardrive section if they can't fix the problem in three minutes! Damn you Hondo!"

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J'inn
Ensign   posted 12-16-2001 02:59 PM                 
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R/P OFF (sorta):
Klingons! Run for your lives! Santa's coming to town and he knows you have been very, very naughty!

-----------

And now (a concept I have stolen completly form Goose (I have no shame)) a word from our sponsor:

Ed McMahon comes on your screen.

Are you the despot of a small planet or group of planets? Have you been unable to destroy strategic targets due to the overwhelming force of your enemies? Well . . . Have I got good news for you.

The Mirak. Yes, the Mirak, are here to help. Need a pirate base blown to bits overnight. Call the Mirak. Need an enemy Dreadnought turned to rubble quickly. That's right. Call the Mirak. You'll find their fees are reasonable and they accept all major credit cards. Hey, they even clean up the nasty post bombardment mess for you. Don't ask how.

Your enemies destroyed. No fuss. No muss.

THE MIRAK!! When it absolutely, positively has to be destroyed overnight!

Call 1-800-GOMIRAK for a free estimate.

And now, back to our feature presentation. (Okay I stole a little from the U.S.M.C. too)

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corbin369
Ensign   posted 12-16-2001 03:35 PM                 
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On board the Mirak MDC+ Week Slayer, Capt. K'arbin and his XO Commander F'raged watch the stars whip by.
'Sir, we have the racks changed over and loaded with war shots. Can you tell me why we've been taken off our shake down patrol?'
'The short story is Capt. MRess has asked us to escort him to the Hydran border...that's for the crew. For you MRess has Cat-Nip Overdose Syndrom and Minister J'inn has ordered MRess to take him to the border. I don't think the crew would like being ordered on such a mission so..we won't tell them.'
F'raged's face had horror written all over it.
'I know what your thinking,' K'arbin contuned, 'and NO you can't have a transfer.'
The horror for F'raged only deepened
'So, I want more battle drills and more damage control drills. See to it.'
F'raged had almost escaped the ready room when K'arbin said the scariest thing of all.
'Oh, and XO, life boat drills. LOTS of life boat drills.'

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Scipio_66
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 12:12 AM                 
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"Lord Admiral S?Cipio?" Inquired a pestering voice. S?Cipio didn?t want to answer the voice. He was in this comfy dark tunnel, and the light down at the other end seemed all warm, happy, and fuzzy. He wanted to walk down and enjoy the light, but the voice kept interrupting.
"Admiral S?Cipio!! Kahless demands that you answer me!!" Obviously the annoying voice wasn?t going to stop. Maybe if he opened his eyes and saw who it was he could tell it to go away. Then he might get to go back to sleep and see the nice light at the end of the tunnel.

S?Cipio opened his eys and blinked under the glare of harsh phospherescene. He was laid out on an operating gurny within a very crowded medical ward. Screams of the dying could be heard, and scents of the dead were overpowering. The face of Dogmatix glared over him. Being Q?onosian Klingon, it was not a pretty face. S?Cipio wanted to go back to sleep and forget he had seen it. S?Treleg, his adjutant, dry washed his hands nervously behind Dogmatix, and shook with relief that the Admiral had awakened.

"I?m sorry I couldn?t wake you sooner," spoke a human doctor from S?Cipio?s right. "We tried all our hyposprays and needles, but none could penetrate your Gorn hide." A Klingon orderly, holding a very long and thick needle (some would call it a pike) looked dissapointed at not getting a chance to try *his* version of a hypdermic.

"Thhe Tugthn", said S?Cipio thickly.

"Eh?" asked the doctor.

"The tongue," filled in S?Treleg. All gorn sssubcutaneous medicinesss are adminissstered through the tongue. It?sss the only soft tissue we have on our bodiesss. I *did* try to tell you." Dogmatix, the doctor, and the orderly all looked at S?Cipio?s jawline and then dryly back at S?Treleg. Not one of them had been about to put their hand into a Gorn?s mouth.

"I wasss on my way to a meeting with the Federation Inssspection Team...." began S?Cipio, trying to recover his memories of the last several hours. He noted absently that several of the dying had stopped screaming.

"Your path led you by one of our administrative centers." Stated Dogmatix in gruff, military tones. "It seems one of our new terrorist cells had chosen it for a target. There was a bomb. I understand there was even Polka music." Dogmatix cut himself with the first scalpel he could find in order to express how much he disapproved of Polka. No one else mentioned what they thought of Dogmatix taste in music. "These terrorist cells do seem to get worse each time *you* visit us, *Inspector*!!."

"You disssapprove of my presence on Klinshai, Captain? The treaty you sssigned said no more fassst dronesss, and yet the alliance is sssure you are ssstill manufacturing them on Klinshai."

"The Klingon Empire should not allow anyone to dictate terms to us! We were not the defeated in the last war! It is an insult to Kahles? memory that your worthless, inferior, and alien feet trod this holy land!"

"Holy land?" asked S?Cipio as he got to his feet. "I rather thought you Q?onosians disssmissed Klinshai asss the home of genetic inferiorsss."

"It is!" screamed Dogmatix, sensing no contradiction.

"And why are you here, Captain? Thissss is not your usual possst"

"If you had died, there would have been trouble with the Gorn Government." Dogmatix leaned closer. "But hear this, Gorn. I know you are up to something. There has been another bombing on Klingon territory. Regardless of the type of vermin that inhabit this planet, I am here to punish the guilty." He leaned even closer to S?Cipio. "*All* of the guilty, Admiral." Then quickly he turned and strode away. S?Cipio noted to himself that he would have to watch Dogmatix. Far too much cunning within that Klingon for a typical Q?onosian.

"Will you be going to the meeting with the Federation envoys now, Lord Admiral?" inquired the human doctor.

"No," replied S?Cipio after checking the time and remembering another, less official meeting. "I still feel unwell. Tell them I will need to reschedule."

S?Cipio and S?Treleg stepped past the dying in their stretchers and into the street-level heat of a Klinshai noon. The streets, the hillsides, the buidlings, even the sky were all the color of sandstone. The press of bodies was thick, the smell of the unwashed was thicker. The swarthy faces of the almost human-looking inhabitants did not wear the expressions of those who had once ruled the Klingon empire.

"You?re late," was the quiet greeting of Kludge as he took up step with the Gorn and hustled them quickly through the crowd. Kludge was a very handsome Klinshai Klingon. He was swarthy, with angular features and thick, jet-black hair which he combed straight back from a sharp widow?s peak. His goatee was perfectly groomed. The thick hair served more than ego, it also served to reinforce the differences between his breed of Klingon and their genetic cousins.

"The bomb," inquired S?Cipio. "It wasss one of yours?"

"Probably," agreed Kludge with no sense of regret. "Your itinerary is known to all our agensts. If you deviate from it even in the slightest, you may be killed. This is Klinshai. It is dangerous"

Kluge led them to a small, thickly walled building within the city square and then took them into an empty room. This much empty space was a luxory within the Klinshai capitol. Kludge stepped up from the sunken floor to a window ledge and looked out over the masses of his own people. "Worthless animals," he grumbled. "Over eight billion Klinshai on this world, even after the NextGen uprising. And they all want to live in the capital city. They are a beaten people, but we will beat the pride back into them."

"You won?t do that with Polka bombsss," hissed S?Treleg.

"No, with the Polka bombs I will beat the pride *out* of the Q?onosians. Then, when the uprising truly starts within their own Deep Space Fleet, we will sweep the Turtleheads before us."

"You?ve been ssssaying thisss for yearsss," chided S?Cipio cynically. "Even before we struck our deal during my CW3 Guerilla war. Am I truly to believe you have garnered support within the Deep Space Fleet?"

"Oh, yes. And as I promised you, the officer in question, with representatives of his fleet, will meet us here shortly."

"I fail to sssee how your selling Polka bombsss to the Hydransss helps any of usss," interjected S?Treleg.

"I don?t know what you are talking about. Besides, I never asked what your Admiral S?Cipio did with the spare parts I sold him during CW3. After your government sells them to us, those bombs are ours. We will do with them as we please."

S?Cipio hissed loudly, the sound of a broken samovar that let the world know in no uncertain terms that he was a very unhappy lizard. His angry retort was cut short as the largest Klinshai Klingon any of them had ever seen kicked open the door. Behind this goliath strode a much smaller man who seemed used to instantly taking charge of those around him.

Kludge?s expected guest moved to the edge of the raised foyer. His Cuban heels clicked on the floor, and an ornate, silver-headed cane rapped out a counter rythm. His billowing long coat floated out behind him. An impossibly fluffy Persian cat perched upon his left shoulder. He reached up to stroke the cat with his right hand as he surveyed the room?s occupants.

His face lit up like a wicked child?s. "Squiggalicious!" he grinned evily.

-S?Cipio


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Neighbors said he was a quiet man, who kept mostly to himself.


[This message has been edited by Scipio_66 (edited 12-17-2001).]

 

[Gook]

Julin Eurthyr
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 12:50 AM                 
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Flag Briefing Room, ISCS Little Paradise
"... and none of this would have been possible without the assistance of Commander Annlova, Miraki intelligence division." The Meeskeen Commander steps down, and returns to his seat.
"So, this means that our latest pacification plan is ready to be implemented, correct Commander?"
"Yes, Admiral Eurthyr. All we need is to synthesize the agent, and find somewhere to deliver it."
"Sir, there is still that large convoy of Catnip in Mirak space, I'm sure that will be the best place to strike."
"Thank you Commander Annlova, that sounds like the place to start. Is the wormhole generator functional?"
"Yes sir," the rarely heard from Captain of the LP reports, "I can have the Echelon there in 20 minutes."
"Well, any pirates in the area?"
"Pirates, Admiral?"
"Yes commander, pirates. Who else to crack open a convoy then pirates?"
"Let's get this plan under way, dismissed."
Flag Bridge, ISCS Little Paradise
"... and so, captain, all we need is for you to help us sneak these devices into all the Catnip in this convoy, we'll give you a lift out to the convoy and back. You will be compensated well for your assistance." Julin leans back, awaiting the response of the pirate captain.
"Vell, it ees a good plan, I agree. Vhen do ve leave?"
"Sir, wormhole generator at full charge!" the engineer shouts.
"Now, my kind friend, now." With the anticipation of starting a new operation, Julin leans forward in his command chair, as he issues the "Shall we?" command.
Soon, the Wormhole is generated, and both the pirate group and the 673rd find themselves just outside of sensor range of the Mirak Catnip Convoy.

Mirak space, the Catnip Convoy
The pirates head in first, and start assaulting the freighters. Guards die, supplies are laced. About 10 minutes later, when the coded "mission completed" results are sent, the 673rd warps in, and prevents the pirates from "capturing" the convoy, via complete destruction of the pirate fleet.
"Commander, Mirak Convoy, this is Admiral Eurthyr, of the 673rd Echelon, ISC. We are sorry to find you have been assaulted by pirates, and stand ready to render assistance, as necessary. Out."
Hours later, with the "assistance" of ISC engineers and crew, it is confirmed that the supplies are all intact, and the ships are repaired, and they continue on their journey to their final destination. As a special request, a few crates of Catnip are trnasferred to the Little Paradise, as a thank you for saving the convoy. Inspecting the packages, and noting they are properly infected, Julin beams a smile to Annlova, where they proceed to "test the effects of catnip" in privacy...


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Julin Eurthyr, Admiral
Commander, 673rd Echelon
Commander, ISCS Little Paradise

"It's the suede denim secret police. They've come for your uncool niece."
Last words heard from the hru'hfe at the beginning of a Tal'shiar raid of the house

IP: Logged
 
Hondo_8
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 07:47 AM             
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The Starship USS. Love Machine in all its Christmas glory continues to blaze a trail towards the kilingon Home world. With in the bowels of the ship, the Captain with a martini in his hand faces a view screen.
?Hondo?Captain Hondo?here.? He smiles a nasty smile, as his eyes seem to look past the image in the view screen of Pharaoh.

?Hondo if my government even knew I was dealing with you I would be banished?lets get this over with quick.? Sweat beads upon Pharos?s brow and he uses a handkerchief to dab it away.

?Pharaoh I am not the one who asked for a certain section to help you out here?. but I am glad you did. Your promise of Pussie Galore to be my new nurse has given me new reasons to install a bigger hot tub on my bridge?but I drift from my point. It seems my success with the polka bombs is better then I thought, the Klingon faction believes it was Hydrain and vice versa, a nice mess at best. Who would have thought the Klingons hated polka music?I mean look at that Dogmatix he would seem to be the polka type?why I bet he has a Laurence Whelk collection stashed away in his ship.? Pharaoh interrupts Hondo ?Hondo get on with it I?m running out of time.? Hondo sips his drink and continues ? After my delivery to the Klingon Home world I think the ISC will truly realize their mistake in having the Klingons for allies, I mean after this, Betty Crocker will seem more of a threat.? Hondo starts to laugh madly and turns off his view screen leaving Pharaoh with no more.

Hondo sits in his room for several minutes before stirring, He rolls out of his been bag and heads out of his quarters. He takes the turbo lift to deck twelve and heads for the holo deck. Hondo speaks to himself as he punches in his program for the Holo deck.

?Welcome Captain Hondo?. Alliance possibilities program is running?. Hola deck doors are secure?security scan complete. It is safe to enter Sector 31 simulator.? Hondo enters the simulator after the voice prompts him it is secure. Captain Hondo looks around the room past memories stirring to the surface. Off to the left along the wall lies the Federation expansion possibilities board, Hondo thinks ?To think I spent countless hours battling my instructors during simulation on that thing and never once lost to them?. I wonder If any of my friends would believe me if I told them truth.? The Captain sits into a lazy boy and wipes his eyes clean from the tears brewing there. ? How many shall have to die before the Federation size equals our might.? His eyes drift to the center of the room where stands the super computer that is able to run all commands aspects of the federation during events of emergency. ? Ahh I imagine this place must be a bee hive of activity?. I can just imagine what the Federation Council would do if they even new what kind of influence we had here.? Hondo rises from his seat and walks to the north wall entering a door and coming out into the strategic planning room, a large map is projected in to the air showing all know species and alliances. Hondo punches in a few codes and quickly narrows down the Hydran space and Romulan space zooming in on the Hydran out worlds. ? Now as planned the FPF will be dispatched here after my delivery?. a federation fleet in Hydran space will definitely increase tensions with our two empires and if I?m lucky I can weaken the romulan fleet while the ambush is set.?

Hondo walks out of the Hola deck to his chambers entering a log. ? All is going as planned.?

The Captain pushes the comm. Button. ? Bridge this is your Captain, Hondo?Captain Hondo. I need a matinee shaken not stirred. And make sure the trampoline is set up on the bridge, I feel like a tigger, and tiggers are bouncy cause that?s what we do best.? Hondo laughs.

The bridge crew shakes there head and scurry to set up the trampoline.


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ZTempest
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 10:44 AM                 
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"M'Ress! WAKE UP!!!!!"
M'Ress opens one groggy eye. "G'way Tempest. I doan want no more. Please. Just tell'em that I'm sick or something.."

"M'RESS!! THIS IS IMPORTANT!!"

M'Ress growls. "It had better be. I'm in no mood for your games, Tempest....High Captain or not!"

"Seven Freighters."

"What? Seven What? And why, exactly, should I be concerned?"

"Seven Large Lyran Freighters, M'Ress. Seven Juicy, unguarded convoys transiting just one sector from our border in Lyran space..."

"So what, Tempest? You know that is an act of war. We are at peace, or hadn't you heard?"

Tempest smiles his evil smile. "M'Ress, listen to me closely....Yarn and.....Catnip!"

"WHAT!!!!!?????"

"You heard me. Seven large Lyran freighters, Yarn and Catnip, one sector inside of Lyran space. I got it straight from a Lyran prisoner."

"Oh My. OHMYOHMYOHMY! What did the Patriarch say???"

Tempest casually leaned back against the doorframe..."Well, you see, it's like this. He doesn't know."

"WHAT!!!!!"

"Yep. Just you, me, Captain T'Rang, and the rest of the Patriarchs Guard Fleet....I was thinking that some training manuevers along the border might be appropriate....."

"Are you suggesting....."

"M'Ress, when was the last time you qualified on the Drone Hammer Manuever??"

M'Ress looked around nervously. "Hey! That was a long time ago and besides, there aren't any witnesses...."

Tempest chuckled. "Actually, I was thinking of inviting you to join us....on the Lyran border...."

A light seemed to go on above M'Ress. He slowly smiled, "Yeah...that's a VERY good idea, Captain Tempest...and now that I think about it, I am a bit behind on my command quals.....we could use a refresher tour....when, where, and who?"

"We're departing now. Can you bring your ship online and join up in say, 30 minutes or so?"

"Sure, Tempest. Sure!"

TWO WEEKS LATER.....

"HE DID WHAT!!!!!!!!"

"Well, sire, it appears that Tempest kidnapped T'Rang and M'Ress, took your guard fleet and performed a raid on a Lyran Catnip convoy. This was two weeks ago. At last report they were at Starbase 12. Abruptly after the Catnip convoy pulled into spacedock we lost contact with the Starbase. Unconfirmed reports indicate that the entire starbase crew is unfit for duty and that a 24-hour, 7 day a week party has been ongoing for the last two weeks."

"I'LL KILL HIM!"

The aide cleared his throat..."Ahem...we have also received a carefully worded diplomatic complaint from the Lyran embassy on the raid, and...your daughter has been seen in the company of Kzinbane, the local Lyran Representative here on Mrass."

The Patriarchs fur was on end in rage. Incapable of speech, he could only growl.

A few moments of near-silence passed......the Patriarch visibly pulled himself together.

"First, Tempest just bought himself a tour on one of those useless Mirak Drone Cruisers -- a CD, NOT a MDC, am I clear? I want a full report on its shortfalls, and I want the rotation to be at least three months long. I would like nothing better to skin him alive, but he IS one of my best commanders, and to do so would hurt morale. Then I want the entire Patriarch's Guard locked down and on restriction until Tempest finishes his tour of duty and can resume command. This order will stand unless we break out in war with the Lyran Empire, WHICH IS LIKELY TO HAPPEN IF KZINBANE HAS LAID ONE CLAW ON MY POOR, DEFENSELESS, LITTLE PRINCESS!!!!!!"

The Aide abruptly coughed, knowing that the "princess" was niether little, OR defenseless. The last Aide to make a pass at her was still in the hospital....and it was rumored that she was actually a high-level terminator for the W.A.N.K.E.R network!

"Yes Sire, Your Will Be Done!"

Meanwhile, on the Lyran/Klingon Border

"Sir! We are picking up an escape pod beacon...it appears to be Lyran!"

"Bring us in closer. Shields up!"

"Aye Sir!"

Moments later, a Lyran was transported onto the Klingon C7. The Captain was there to greet him. "We are honored to welcome the nephew of Kzinbane to the Klingon BCH Fury!"

The Lyran looked at the Klingon with a dazed expression. "I need to talk to my Uncle immediately...about TOENAIL CLIPPERS!!! ARRRRRGHHHHHHH!!!!"

The Klingons watched in amazement as the Lyran collapsed in a dead faint.

"What do we do now?"

"I don't know. Set course for the closest Lyran outpost. This needs to be their problem, I think!"


TO BE CONTINUED......

[This message has been edited by ZTempest (edited 12-17-2001).]

[This message has been edited by ZTempest (edited 12-17-2001).]

[This message has been edited by ZTempest (edited 12-17-2001).]

 

[Gook]

Ole
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 10:55 AM                 
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ChrisLee's flyer cruised over Hydra Central toward the Trigon. He was reporting back from another successful cruise and was feeling good. He had heard of some new security protocols that were starting to get implemented. He wanted to make his debrief and get back off-planet as soon as he could. Those pencil-pushing weenies were just a waste of time.
Prince Malachi stepped off his royal yacht to the adulation of... no one. He frowned a bit and kicked the small box on the deck. Ragged cheering began filling the docking bay. His bodyguards glanced around suspiciously behind the dark sunglasses, the occasional eyestalk peeking behind at their prince. The bay was completely empty but for the small technical staff looking after His Highness the Prince Malachi?s (24th in line for the throne) personal star yacht. H?loynt, his chief of staff/ personnel director/head bottle washer shook his head sadly, ?Sire, please? can we get back to the Palace? You are due at the opening ceremonies for another back-up solid waste disposal facility in just a little bit. I?m sorry sire; I don?t think that the word got out very well about your nineteenth finish in the intergalactic single pilot yacht race. I?ll be sure and speak to someone about it, I?m sure that it didn?t make the papers yet.? Malachi?s shoulders sagged slightly, ?Well then lets hop to it, and I?m driving! ? And strode off. H?loynt followed quickly, the only thing harder than being the 24th in the line of succession was being his chief of staff with no staff. He only hoped that there was a flyer waiting and they didn?t have to take the Business Utility System (BUS) again. It was so hard carrying His Highness?s luggage in one of those yellow dogs.

Ole rubbed the soles of two of his feet. He had just returned to his ready room after hiking all over the Romulan base. They had found the intelligence post but it looked like someone had gotten there first. It looked like that someone had taken a can-opener to the asteroid they had come across in their search. It realy looked like that someone had REALLY not liked the Romulans. Slag and debris was everywhere. It looked as bad as the aftermath of one of Gooks parties, the one where the Klingons had broken into the pickled Q?aath and spent the remainder of the night howling at the moon. Well, whatever had happened, he was going to get to the bottom of it, after all ?The safeguards of saints brings the moon to high noon? his father always said. Ole found great comfort in that piece of worldly wisdom. There were multiple plasma trails to follow. He picked the largest and ordered pursuit. Now, how in the world was he going to get a hold of J?inn. The comm techs hadn?t been able to repair the sub-space system. Something about substandard parts burning out during a high-powered episode of the latest episode of ?Baywatches: Methane shores of Southern Hydrax?.

Shadowy figures scurried down dark alleyways. Quiet meetings in out-of-the way places. Many eyes observing things in Hydra.




[This message has been edited by Ole (edited 12-17-2001).]

IP: Logged
 
Kzinbane2
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 11:52 AM             
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Kzinbane had been all over Mraa now though he had not seen much but the interior bedding quarters of various Miraki females. He was amazed at the variety! There were orange Mirak with black stripes, yellow ones with black spots, and golden tan ones. Ah so many wonderful choices
Kora (his ?wife?) had loaned him out and the word had spread fast. Not only was Kzinbane himself a commodity now ? apparently word had gotten out that Lyran males in general actually make attempts to please females! Kzinbane himself had even gone so far as to go shopping with Kora and Darcelle, daughter of the Patriarch ? and he had been cheerful! What Kora and Darcelle didn?t know is that Kzinbane was cheerful to get out of their chambers. His cheer came from finding that two rare commodities from Earth were available on Mraa ? Oysters and something called viagra which he knew to be quite helpful. Once he had a good stock of each purchased he was quite pleased and more than willing to tell the ladies how lovely they looked in their expensive clothing, shoes and skimpy items bought from some Romulan establishment ? Victalshiar?s secret. ! His latest adventure was in an ornate chamber in the imperial palace itself! The idea of such a room in the palace, padded everything, full of females (who WERE they?)? He?d had plenty of catnip; perhaps it had been a dream?

Finally after more than a week of ?work? Kzinbane had leapt from a second story window (landing on his feet of course) and escaped Kora and Darcelle?s house of pleasure. He had been out of touch with his superiors for too long. Darcelle had crushed the communicator when Kzinbane showed signs of actually wanting to answer it during a busy moment. From then on he had not been able to get away! Now, Kora and Darcelle snoring happily behind him he padded swiftly toward the Mirak CW officers club.

Kzinbane slowed his pace. He became aware of many frowns and glares being directed his way from male Mirak. In many cases they appeared to be weighed down with bags and were being drug along by a female. He noted also that no other Lyrans were apparent. When he had left days ago Lyrans were common, or if not that at least noticeable. Where were they? Had something happened?

Kzinbane hurried along getting to the O?club taking back roads and alleys to avoid any more glares from Miraki males, or speculative and sultry looks from the females. He finally arrived at the back door to the CW club at dusk and finding it locked leapt into a second story window (Lyrans were not as strong as Mirak but they were quite agile!).

Kzinbane quickly went to his quarters, and took note that his personal stash of catnip had not been found. Good, he needed it. He checked his messages next looking for communiqués from high command. Nothing. Something was clearly happening. ?Computer, key word Lyran, search recent Mirak publications ? magazines and newspapers?. Within seconds he had a list of several hundred periodicals of one type or another listed. He picked one called ?Cat fancy? and began to read. He went to another; one called Mademoiselle and quickly read the article. Hair stood up along his back.
He turned to a newspaper, looking at the singles adds. ?Lyran? was common. Females from all over the planet were apparently looking for Lyran male companionship and mates! Finally he noticed an E-message from a clinic not far away. In curiosity he opened it to find a note headed with Congratulations! It looked like some sort of stock form letter with names filled in.

Kzinbane?s eyes widened and the his tail poofed to 300% of its normal diameter as he read

Congratulations Mr. Kzinbane, you are about to be a father! Your mate Darcelle entered the Kzinla clinic 26 hours ago for a standard pregnancy test. We hare pleased to announce to you that it came back positive! Per Mirak law we have notified her father, brothers and you of this wonderful event.

Kzinbane?s whiskers drooped as he thought back to who Darcelle was. ?Oh crap,? he whispered to himself ?her father is the Patriarch?.

Catnip smoke and the sound of fingers clicking wildly on a keyboard filled the air. It was time to leave.

IP: Logged
 
DarkElf
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 12:38 PM                 
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<<Three minutes after the engines went unstable, before Hondo and the Love Machine met the Klingons>>>
"Captain, the Engines are now stable, but were stuck here until we can get suppies," the Engineer reported.

"Dammit! Anyone have any GOOD news for me?" All of a sudden polka music started playing. He immediately knew what it was and had to react now. "Everyone take cover!" EVeryone hit the floor and there was an explosion on the bridge. Consoles exploded and it became a pitch black. He thought he was gonna die. "He screamed "Report!"

"Helm is off-line"
"Science is off-line"
"Weapons are off-line, shields are down."
"Tatical is off-line."

There wasn't any consoles online. The bridge was smashed.

"Computer? Respond," He yelled franticly.

"Please state request."

He was relieved. "Computer, transfer all bridge functions to Auxillary Control room. Authrozation DarkElf Beta Seven Charlie."

"Transfer complete. Transfering ships to automatic control until presence is detected in the battle bridge."

"All right people, LETS GO!" Everyone run towards the turbolift in the pitch black bridge.


Meanwhile aboard the Love Machine...

"Captain, are you sure of what you are doing?" the nurse asked.

"Do not question my judgement! Scrub harder."

"Aye, sir."

The crew was getting worried. They were loyal to their captain, but this was a bit much. Why attack another Federation starship?

"Helm. Continue course to Klingon Homeworld. We must continue to deliever my presents."

"Aye, sir...."

The Intelligence was a burning wreck, It could only wait for Thrain.'

Aboard the Jesse James

"Sir, we have arrived."

"Hail, the Intelligence."

"No response."

"Put, the Intelligence onscreen."

The crew gasped. The Intelligence had scorch marks on its hull, there were very few lights visible.

"Science, scan the vessel."

"Weaopns, and Engines are off-line. Shields are down. Structual Integrity is at 18%. Life support is failing..."

"Sir, we are being hailed."

"Onscreen." The Intelligence bridge crew appeared. They were battered and burned.

"I'm gonna kill Hondo." DarkElf said.

"Your not the only one. Thrain replied. "Looks like we'll have to get your ship on its feet before we can resume the hunt for the Love Machine."

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Dynaverse Pilot Profile Page - http://www25.brinkster.com/mpddarkelf/

IP: Logged
 
Delta One
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 04:27 PM                 
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Captain Janus stared at the upcoming image of the Hydran Base Station Magnificanto out of the viewport of his ready room aboard the Star Runner. The patrol of the Romulan border was nearly finished and the Hydran ship was now moving coreward a little to undergo engine tuning at Magnificanto, a horrible little station that didn't have artifical gravity, showers or hot meals. Somewhat strangely Janus could see another couple of Hydran ships parked about the station, although he doubted any of their crews would be stupid enough to be there for shore leave.
"Why Janey," said the J'inn robot beside him. "Isn't this wonderful!"

"No!" snapped Janus, "The real you hasn't arrived yet and STOP calling me Janey."

"Yes Janu... Janey."

"GAH! Why did I ever decide to make Commander Bala fix you?" snarled Janus.

"Well logic would dictate that you were stupid Janey." replied the giant robot.

"Shut up and put your oxygen helmet on!" said Janus. "We don't want people on board the starbase seeing you 'breathe' in a methane atmosphere."

"Oh yes, that wouldn't be very beano would it?" giggled the J'inn robot as it imitated a British accent.

"No it wouldn't!" seethed the Hydran captain.

"Well yes, I did find this in your quarters. I ordered myself a few more Cuban cigars... hope you don't mind." A credit card appeared in the robot's hand. Janus had no idea how it got there especially considering his quarters were locked and guarded by two armed security officers since the attack on his life.

"You wretched mechanical monster!" yelled Janus. "Give me that back!" Janus snatched his precious credit card out of the paws of the fake Mirak and tucked into the deepest pocket he could find on his jumpsuit.

"Sir, we're receiving a short range hail from Admiral Ole." came Commander Bala's cheerful voice over the communication circuits.

"Put it through in here Commander." answered Janus. "Now behave you" he said glowering at the Mirak android beside him and shoving him out of the way of the ready room's communication monitor.

"Yes Janey." replied fake J'inn.

"Gah I told you to sto... yes, hello Admiral."

"I haven't caught you at a bad time Janus?" replied the Admiral.

"No of course no.... ooof"

"Ole! Good to see you again!" yelled the J'inn robot pushing the hapless Janus to the ground in enthusiastic greeting.

"Ah good, J'inn I've been looking for... by the four moons of Hydrax, you're not wearing an oxygen helmet! Why aren't you dead...." Admiral Ole seemed to scream.

"Its not J'inn sir." gasped Janus struggling to his feet. "It is a fake, a robot sent to kill me."

"And you're letting it stand next to you? Who sent it?" asked Ole.

"Well sir, Commander Bala reprogrammed it for me. She assures me it's quite safe. She had to wipe it's memory core so it wouldn't try to kill me but that means we don't know who sent it. It's personality banks make it just like J'inn except Bala seems to have made it like shopping."

"Yes, the nasty shopping mall incident in the American South." chuckled Admiral Ole, "Who would have thought that all those people would have confused a Polar Mirak for Bigfoot."

"Oh Ole, now that I have you and Janus together, I'd like to show you something I borrowed from that nice Gorn, S'cippy." The robot pulled out an object from it's pockets and held it out in it's giant paw.

"Oh my Gods!" screamed Janus and Ole together.

"Thats the royal Gorn egg cup!" Janus cried gazing horrified at the blue speckled egg holder in front of him. "You naughty beast! What in the galaxy did you do that for! Where did you find it?"

"It was above this really funky fireplace..... true I had to go through several locked doors and alarm systems to get to it, but I didn't think S'cippy'd mind if I took a last look around his old place before he moved out. He really should be more careful with his stuff though so I decided to hang onto his egg cup for him. It was harder to get into his liquor cabinet though."

"The Gorn sacred liquour cabinet!" Admiral Ole gasped, "Lord S'Cipio's holy duty is it's care! He'll be after us faster than a Gorn defending a chocodile convoy when he finds the Royal Egg Cup missing and the sacred liquor cabinet desecrated!"

"You idiotic android! You hear that! You'll have every Gorn in the quadrant onto us!" yelled Janus and then he spoke quietly almost whispering, "I can't let my science officer see this. She's a W.A.N.K.E.R operative you know! She'll tell Mrs. Sockfoot for sure."

Both Janus and Ole shuddered together.

"We can't let that happen Janus!" said Admiral Ole. "I'm ordering you aboard my ship, you seem to have had contact with J'inn and maybe you can help me out. Oh and bring me some spare parts to fix my subspace receiver. The stupid inventory officer on Station Magnificanto won't give me their last components because ''Then we'd be all out and I'd have to order some more.'' Make sure that crazy robot and the egg cup come along too, we'll have to figure out a way of getting it back to the Gorn without starting a war!"

"Commander Bala, I've been ordered to transfer aboard Admiral Ole's ship." Janus spoke to the bridge via his communicator.

"Yes sir."

"You have command. Finish off the shakedown mission. I won't be back for some time. Beam me, the J'inn robot and a subspace tranceiver aboard the Admiral's ship at once."

"Understood captain. Safe journey sir." replied Commander Bala.

"Acknowledged. Janus to transporter room, when you're ready. Energize."

For a moment Janus had a warm fuzzy feeling and then he found himself aboard the Admiral's ship, Gorn egg cup in hand, with the J'inn robot gabbling on about how exciting things were and a subspace transceiver sitting beside him....

This wasn't going to be a good day.

Meanwhile in an unlit alley on the Hydran homeworld....

"The J'inn robot is functioning perfectly. I am getting perfect reception." said one dark figure to another.

"Yes," the replied the other shadowy figure to his companion. "The plan proceeds well, the 30 day trial period ruse and the the theft of the Gorn royal egg cup were both simply brilliant. Now the robot is aboard Admiral Ole's ship, a fortune that could not be anticipated. Good work! You will be rewarded."

"Thank you master. You do me honour." replied the other.

"Keep me informed. Now go! Before we are spotted together!" was the harsh reply.

With that the two figures seperated. Night continued in the Hydran capital city.

------------------
Captain Janus
RHA Night Watch
Royal Hydran Armada

"Your superior intellect is no match for our puny weapons!"


[This message has been edited by Delta One (edited 12-17-2001).]

 

[Gook]

Drake
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 05:02 PM                 
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'Welcome aboard our team captain'
Captain Herru look through the files he was given. Herru saw this opertunity for what it was, a chance to advance on the fast track in Naval intelligence. Not as good as Ole's office but still a choice posting. This will also allow me to further my own goals.

the files states that Drake was on a special project and needed an assitanct to run his department while he is working on this project. Herru smiled to himself.

------------------
Capt. Drake Lyran Slayer
Royal Hydran Navy
Royal Hydran Intelligence

IP: Logged
 
J'inn
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 05:33 PM                 
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J'inn had returned to his flat. He was standing it what was left of his living room. The only sound that could be heard was the faint tinkling of ice in his Gin & Tonic. The flat was a shambles. Most of his things had been removed and there were unopened creates stacked to the ceiling of the main room. All of them marked "Clothing: Property of DooMee." J'inn was in shock.
Prior to fetching his drink he had used the main computer console to download replicator programs for the clothing he would need on his trip. He had put a great deal of thought into this. What approach would work best on this mission? Southern Gentleman. No. Tycoon. No. Well, Hydrans weren't a factor. They weren't even humanoid. That left the Romulans.

The Romulans appreciated intelligence, power, negotiations and plotting. He needed something that would lend to the feeling of sneakiness, viciousness and amorality that he needed to project in order to impress the Romulans. Due to this he needed to borrow from the most hated and feared force in the quadrant. The clothing program disk that now resided in his tunic pocket covered this quite nicely he thought. It was marked "Terran Lawyer: Clothing and Accessories."

He had also taken inventory of the flat. The cars were gone. The entertainment system was gone. His treasured Terran American Football card and video collection was gone. Anything involving sex was gone. His refrigerator had been emptied and then filled with such items as low fat prey, tofu and bean sprouts. DooMee had also left a message chiding him about his weight and saying that THEY would have to do something about this. Thankfully, she was now on duty, and J'inn had a few hours to get out of Dodge before she returned.

At that point his communicator chirped. It was the DMO, Kzinbane had been spotted entering the Officers' Club. "Don't take any action!" J'inn ordered. "I'm on my way now. This is personal." And with that, J'inn downed his drink, grabbed a box of cigars and his well dog eared copy of "The Prince," threw both in his travel bag, and left.

Thirty minutes later J'inn's Jaguar XJR came to a screeching halt in the parking lot of the Officers' Club. Outside were two vehicles. M'Ress' and one from Avis Rent-A-Transport. Given the time of day no one should have been present at all.

The rental had diplomatic stickers. Kzinbane! Slinging his bag over his shoulder, J'inn exited the vehicle and went to the trunk. In the trunk was a fine representative of every type of personal assault weapon available on Mraa. J'inn selected a high powered disruptor rifle. He slammed in a power cartridge, flicked off the safety and moved the selector switch to FULL AUTOMATIC. Or as the Terrans called it, "Rock and Roll."

Inside Kzinbane was lounging in J'inn's Lazy-Boy, or what was left of it, watching the news and drinking a brew. MNN was reporting. General hell seemed to be breaking out everywhere. At least two confirmed reports of Polka Bombs had been the lead story. An incident regarding a Miraki convoy was also a hot topic. There were side stories regarding political tensions on Hydra and Q'onos. The worst part, per the Mirak news anchor however, was the growing number of female riots on Mraa. All of them demanding that the males treat them more like the Lyrans treated their females. Currently a "talking head" was discussing why the Lyrans were the scourge of the galaxy. At that point, a very tired Kzinbane was surprised by the sound of the Club's front door crashing in. As fast as lighting he jumped up and dove over the bar. Crouched down he heard the sounds of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. He then heard the bead curtain separating the club from the stairway being parted.

"Kzinbane!" he heard a voice shout with a Miraki accent. "Where are you!"

Kzinbane stood up from behind the bar and saw J'inn standing there, a disruptor rifle in his hand. "J'inn, buddy." Kzinbane said with glee. "I've been looking all over for you. Did ya bring any CatNip? I wouldn't want the Patriarch to feel that you weren't being a good host."

"CatNip? Ya want CatNip Kzinbane? Sure I got yer CatNip. Right here!" And with that J'inn leveled the barrel of the rifle at Kzinbane a pulled the trigger. Kzinbane dove for the floor as the wall behind him exploded. Disruptor bolts were firing wildly at 180 bursts per minute. Bottles of liquor exploded and ignited as Kzinbane rolled away to avoid the flames.

"Here I got some beer from ya too!" J'inn yelled as he pumped another barrage of hyper excited particles at the bar. "Ya wants some cigars buddy here ya fuc@#$@ go!"

The wall behind the bar no longer existed and J'inn's shots were now destroying most of the kitchen which was in the room behind the bar. In all the smoke and flame, Kzinbane had rolled out from behind the bar an was crouched behind a large recliner.

Days of anger were pouring out of J'inn as fast as his weapon sprayed destruction. He started blasting the bar itself. That is until he hit a power conduit within the bar itself. The explosion knocked J'inn off his feet and the rifle went sprawling. Kzinbane was thrown 10 feet across the room and landed onto a pool table. J'inn groaned and started to get up when he heard Kzinbane cussing. At that point he looked at Kzinbane and their eyes met.

J'inn, being a rather large Mirak, was a few hundred pounds heavier than Kzinbane. J'inn was also much faster that most people would think. Both Kzinbane and J'inn looked at the rifle. It was too far away. Kzinbane then looked at the doorway and crouched to run. At that point, J'inn became a blur as he leapt at the pool table. Colliding with it, the table tipped over, sending the combatants sprawling. The next thing that occurred could only be called a tornado of fur, claws, hissing and biting. All the while, the Club burned and the fire was spreading.

Finally getting some leverage, J'inn grabbed Kzinbane by the neck and stood up. Viciously he slammed the Lyran against a wall and began to choke him. Just then the main Communications Screen flared to life on the far end of the hall. Upon it was the visage of the Great Patriarch of Mraa, Brezgonne.

"Attention all warriors," Brezgonne started and then stopped as he saw the destruction on his screen. "What the hell?" He said in amazement. He then looked in the direction of J'inn and Brezgonne. His eyes widened in anger. "You!" He screamed. "You defiled my daughter with your filth!"

"I never touched your daughter," J'inn yelled.

"Not you. Him!" The Patriarch said as he pointed a long claw.

J'inn looked at Kzinbane as he loosened his grip. "You didn't." He whispered.

"Umm well, I err" Kzinbane stammered.

"Please tell me she wasn't in heat!" J'inn whispered in shock. But the look of being caught with his hands in the cookie jar told J'inn all he need to know. "Oh Great Mraa I hope her birth control was active" J'inn thought.. Nevertheless J'inn was . . . one happy cat!

"Patriarch, I, your humble servant have captured this fiend for you. I would consider it an honor if you let me rip his throat out in your name!" J'inn said with great formality.

"Oh no J'inn. The execution of that, that, thing will have to wait for my claws and mine alone. But he will not die alone! You were in charge of him. You let this happen!" The Patriarch was off his rocker with anger.

J'inn definitely didn't like where this was going. "Umm, I suggest we skedaddle" Kzinbane whispered. That wasn't a bad idea J'inn thought as he released Kzinbane, grabbed a pool ball from the floor and threw it through the monitor. He then turned to Kzinbane who had retrieved his communicator and was furiously punching in a code. Just then, Kzinbane disappeared in a shimmering transporter beam.

"Damn!" J'inn yelled, and then it struck him. Where the heck was M'Ress? "Computer!" He ordered. "Worki**screech*ng the obviously damaged system responded.

"Locate Captain M'Ress!"

"Captain M'**screech** is no longer on Mraa."

"Damn, damn, damn!" J'inn yelled. Now what am I going to do.

"Computer, are there any messages for Captain M'Ress."

"There is one messa**screech**"

"Security override, pass code: J'inn Charlie Alpha Tango. Play message"

"M'Ress this is K'arbin we are in standard orbit around M'raa. **screech** Ready to escort your ship to Jalix system. Are you sure we really want to do this. My crew is a tad upset over this and so am I. I mean, with J'inn! I might as well put on a red shirt and transfer to the Enterprise as a security officer. Please, M'Ress, think about this. K'arbin Out!"

"Oh it is good to be me!" J'inn thought. "Computer access the security override for Captain K'arbin's ship and engage J'inn Emergency Protocols." The Emergency Protocols J'inn had had secretly installed in every Miraki Warship's operating systems. They allowed him to be transported from any Miraki ship in case of an emergency to a safe location. Usually an escape pod. He was quite familiar with the system.

"Working . . . J'inn Emergency Transport Protocols active."

"Initiate reverse transport. Energize!"

The transporter chief aboard Medium Crone Cruiser Weak Slayer was alarmed. His panel had suddenly powered up on its own and one of the transporter pads was now glowing. There was a transport in process. In bound!

"Intruder alert, security to Transporter Room One!" The Chief yelled into the comm panel as he drew his sidearm. The transport sequence stopped leaving a large Polar Mirak with a travel bag on the platform. The Chief's eyes widened. It was no other than Information Minister J'inn! J'inn board his ship! And with that thought the poor man already knew he was dead.

"Chief!" J'inn nearly yelled, "inform your Captain that I am en route to the bridge."

"Yes Sir!" The Chief stammered. The veteran's mind whirled and for the first time in a long time he knew fear. The Minister could, and according to rumor, would, cause one's entire family to disappear in the night if you angered him. Even worse was the fact that a full 63% of all warships upon which J'inn had stayed for more than three days were lost to the great void of space. True, J'inn had always returned. Usually triumphant in completing some dark secret mission or another. But always alone, and without the ship in which he had left.

The doors to the bridge opened and J'inn strode in imperially. K'arbin rose from the command chair and began to speak as J'inn cut him off. "Captain, under Article 45.7 of the Military Code I relieve you of command. There is a clear and present danger to the internal security of Mraa. As you know the interests of the Ministry take precedence in such matters."

"The hell you do Mister!" K'arbin stated, much to the relief of his crew. What followed was an ugly exchange that at one point involved a near mutiny of the bridge crew. Finally it was resolved that K'arbin would remain in command but that J'inn would retain command of the mission.

"Where is M'Ress?" J'inn asked as things calmed down.

"His ship, which he has renamed the Cool Running or some such, left with Admiral Tempest's battle group for the Lyran border. Apparently, something is up. I am aware that one of our Starbases on the border has broken off all communications" K'arbin reported.

"Captain, I want you to continue trying to hail that Starbase. Something about this Lyran situation bothers me." J'inn stated. "Also, you are to set course for the Jalix system, maximum warp!"

"Helm" K'arbin ordered. "Make it so." And with that, the new and mighty warship shot off towards the Hydran border at a speed light only dreams of.

 

[Gook]

Julin Eurthyr
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 05:53 PM                 
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A quick read of the latest intel reports were, to say the least, depressing.
Having developed a network of close "associates" over the years, Julin does not like what they have to say.
---------------------------------------------
The convoy that was infected did not make it to a homeworld as planned, instead, it made it to some starbase, intercepted by the royal guard of Mirak.

Somebody's going overboard with polka bombs, now, it seems that they are being used against starships.

Armed starships still fly freely between all the various neutral zones and in other races territories.

Somebody else got a hold of the J'inn robot. At least, the robot is transmitting, and Julin has a copy of the transmission frequencies.

And nobody has yet to complain about the disappearance of the 673rd, seems that Admiral Pharoh is busy right now.

W.A.N.K.E.R. has yet to get involved in anything, however, there seems to be some kind of feminine uprising on Mraa, which might cause W.A.N.K.E.R. to get involved.
---------------------------------------------
So, after perusing the data, Julin decides to come up with plans...

Flag Briefing Room, ISCS Little Paradise
"So, as it stands, the only infected Catnip remaining is aboard the LP here, we have to protect it from the felinoid races, and deliver quantities to either W.A.N.K.E.R. members, or J'inn." Julin concludes his summary of his plans. "And so, until we can track down the real J'inn is found, we have nothing to do. Perhaps, we can assist others with their issues, there are many here."
"Well, Admiral, who shall we help?" Dareau, the Captain in charge of day-to-day operations of the Little Paradise asks.
"That is up to who may need our assistance. We shall set out an open hail, and see who replies. Mayhap, we won't need the whole Echelon, and we can split our forces. Until then, we must be prepared for anything. Prepare Polka-indoctrination to insure that our crews are capable of standing up to any assault."
"Shall we start mild," Commander Varkin Nikrav, Julin's XO, inquires, "perhaps with the chicken dance?"
"Aye. We shall. Also, we might consider adding polka-harmonics to the PPD waves, that may really rattle our opposition. Break out the old family tunes for that."
"Any other business?" Varkin wonders. Having looked at the assembled officers, and seeing no response, Varkin closes the meeting.
Once the room is emptied, Julin, looking out the windows at the stars, opens up his comm panel, "Comm officer, prepare the following for transmission for broadcast on all frequencies."
---------------------------------------------
Hail all races,
I am Julin Eurthyr, Admiral, assigned to the command of the 673rd "Jello" Echelon, Interstellar Concordium stellar navy.
It has been brought to my attention that there are many issues in the area at this time, and that many of you may seek assistance in your missions. We of the ISC seek peaceful resolution to any issues around, and the 673rd stands ready to assist wherever they can.
Just send an open hail to me, and we shall respond as soon as the transmission is received. We look forward to assisting you in these times of darkness.
Thank you for your attention, Julin Eurthyr, out.

------------------
Julin Eurthyr, Admiral
Commander, 673rd Echelon
Commander, ISCS Little Paradise

"It's the suede denim secret police. They've come for your uncool niece."
Last words heard from the hru'hfe at the beginning of a Tal'shiar raid of the house

IP: Logged
 
DarkElf
Ensign   posted 12-17-2001 11:08 PM                 
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Abord the USS Jesse James:
DarkElf: Thanks to your crew, the Intelligence's systems repairs are going quickly. We should be ready to resume our mission in two hours.

Thrain: And your crew?

DarkElf: 26% of my crew is injured. But they are being treated by sickbay. We'll be ready. But how will we find Hondo?

Thrain: Simple. We knew one day he would go off his rocker. So we have a transponder on his ship.

DarkElf: Impressive.

=/\=Comm officer to Captain Thrain=/\=

Thrain: Go ahead.

-----*edited past this point*-----

Comm Officer: We have picked up the transponder signal. It is moving toward Chronos.

DarkElf: Damnit.

Thrain: Go to red alert. You should get back to your ship.

------------------
Dynaverse Pilot Profile Page - http://www25.brinkster.com/mpddarkelf/

[This message has been edited by DarkElf (edited 12-18-2001).]

IP: Logged
 
corbin369
Ensign   posted 12-18-2001 12:41 AM                 
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In the Capt. cabin aboard the Mirak ship Week Slayer:
'Sir, the crew are on the verge of taking over the ship and going over the Orion's.' First officer F'raged reported.
'With J'inn aboard I just MIGHT agree with them, but that WILL NOT HAPPEN!!' Captain K'arbin glared at his department heads.
'From now on I want battle drills on all shifts for a minimum of four hours. All departments of this ship have been slow and sloppy. The two worst are Engineering and Heavy weapons. Chief B'allsp, what is going on down there?'
'Well Sir, to put it bluntly...since the crew found out about us flying cover for Minister J'inn and Capt. M'Ress they feel there on borrowed time and have been hitting the catnip a little hard...Sir'
'I see,' was K'arbins response, 'Heavy weapons, Chief S'lnger, why is your crew so slow with my flaming lemmings?'
'The same problem, Sir, they know you lost six ships in the last war and know that J'inns record is worse then yours...Sir.'
'Since the hearts and minds hasn't worked, I guess I'll have to try the KICK A LITTLE ASS method.' K'arbin coldly stated.
'There is a Warrior out there that asked for my help. The humans have a saying. Friends help you move. Good Friends help you move bodes. Best Friends help you move bodes, and don't ask questions. Now which category do you think M'Ress falls in to?' K'arbin asked. Every one stared and the table top.
'So, heres what I'm going to do. I'm going to make this crew hate and fear ME more then it dose J'inn. Security, you will go through this ship and impound all the crews catnip you find. Quarter Master you will take all the catnip in stores down to air lock 3, there with what security finds, I will have it spaced!!'
'But Sir,' XO F'raged piped in' Under Patriarchs Orders and Regulations, the crew is aloud a catnip ration once a day!'
'That's under the "Rights of the Commanding Officer" to give out OR with hold.' K'arbin told him.
'Its a privilege for the crew, and I'm revoking it, as of now.' K'arbin ordered, then softened a little. 'When this is over, and J'inns off the ship, I'll find a freighter of it for them.' Then he toughened up again. 'Till then this ship go's cold turkey.' Then with an evil gleam in his eyes he told them. 'Get your people straightened out, or the catnip won't be the only thing spaced. Dismissed.'


IP: Logged
 
Goose
Ensign   posted 12-18-2001 05:58 AM             
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AND NOW A WORD FROM OUR SPONSER...

Picture fades in on M?ress, standing in his ready/romper room. He is looking out the viewport. The Comm panel buzzes and he answers?

M?ress: Hal-lo.

K?arbin: Hey home, wasup.

M?ress: Nuthin? K, watchin? the universe, having some ?Nip. Wasup wit you.

K?arbin: Nuttin?, watchin? the universe, having some ?Nip.

M?Ress: True? true.

In walks J?inn

J?inn: Waazzuupp!

M?Ress: Waazzuupp!

K?arbin: Yo, Who dat?

M?Ress: Yo, pick up da comm!

J?inn: Hallo?

K?arbin: Waazzuupp!

J?inn: Waazzuupp!

M?Ress: ?uupp!

J?inn: Yo, where?s Gooky?

K?arbin: Yo, Gookyyyy!

Gook touches Comm panel.

Gook: Yo.

J?inn: Waazzuupp!

Gook: Waazzuu?

K?arbin: aaaaa?

M?ress: zzzuuuu?

Comm by J?inn buzzes

J?inn: Hold on. Hello?

Speaker in the transporter room?

Speaker: Waazzuupp!

K?arbin: aaaaa?

M?ress: aaaaaa?

Gook: aaaaa?

J?inn: aaaaaaa?

K?arbin: uuuuuuuppppp!

Gook disconnects. So does J?inn.

M?Ress: So was up K?

K?arbin: Watchin? the universe havin? some ?Nip.

M?Ress: True? true.

Scene fades leaving two words?

KATNIP.

TRUE.


[This message has been edited by Goose (edited 12-18-2001).]

[This message has been edited by Goose (edited 12-18-2001).]

 

[Gook]

Ole
Ensign   posted 12-18-2001 08:04 AM                 
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ChrisLee sat at attention. He breathed at attention. He had even gone to the head at attention (don?t even ask, its not pretty). This Admiral Drake was scary! The easy-going ways of the Kingdom were out now. The world had come to an end. Everyone was being checked, you actually need a clearance to enter the Trigon now. Drake?s goons seemed to be everywhere. Captain Herru was just as bad if not worse. This guy had a razor tipped Hu?m Tree (the real spiky kind) up his.. never mind. They had spent the better part of a solar cycle covering the new security protocols. ChrisLee had no idea that there could be so many different ways of making the Kingdom safe. Where was that tall cold one when he really needed it?

<Far out in space close to the Hydran/Romulan border.>

?I don?t care! I want duct tape and I want it now!? howled Ole into the comm panel. Turning back to Janus, he continued ?It cheats at cards, it?ll talk the hind end off a Bakku beast and never replaces the toilet paper after it?s done. Speaking of which, we can?t even light a match to do something about the smell after its done. Do you know how much c***p a balding polar Mirak can shovel out? And it?s shedding! Argghhh!!? Ole screamed in frustration. Janus looked intently at a Mirak hair stuck to his trouser leg. ?Well sir, you realize it doesn?t breath air?.? At this Ole perked up, ?Ehh, what?s that again?? ?Well sir, since it doesn?t breath air, perhaps it would be able to help us out here?? ?Go on.? ? I mean, don?t you think it would be a good idea to tie it to the outer hull for a bit?? Ole began to have a gleam in his eye. He hit the comm. Panel again, ?Security, find that J?inn robot, NOW! We?re about to revive the old keelhauling tradition??

<Shortly after>

Silence? Blissful silence? Spoiled only by the view of the J?inn robot duct taped in front of the outer hull sensor. Its mouth moving and moving and moving?.

Doppler sped back to Hydrax, he needed to make a report on these attacks. It was starting to get bad on the outer colonies. Everyone was frightened about another attack.




IP: Logged
 
Kzinbane2
Ensign   posted 12-18-2001 09:49 AM             
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Kzinbane dropped into the captain?s chair on the bridge of the GPF BrewHaHa and laughed heartily. ? That?, he declared through waves of mirth ?was the most fun I?ve had in a LONG time!?
He quickly regained his senses (such as they were). ? Helm, get us to Lyran space, closest possible point and get us there yesterday!? He half heard the ?aye, aye? from his helmsman as he watched Mraa?s blue green sphere dwindle to a dot that was soon lost amongst the background field of stars.

He massaged his neck and shoulders wincing at the bruises. J?inn?s attack had been a walk in the park compared to what all those ladies (he used that term loosely) had done to him. Lyrans were amazingly limber but some of the positions they wanted him to stay in for far too long were difficult even for one that is triple jointed!

He clicked his communicator ?Puff, ( the nick-name he had for his supply officer) get those boxes we beamed up into secure storage NOW?. Puff responded with a disappointed ?yes sir? ? from the tone of his voice thought Kzinbane it was obvious that the supply officer had discovered the treasure inside the cardboard wrapper! Along with beaming Kzinbane out, the transporter had been keyed to remove all of the scotch and other alcohol from what was left of the officers club. On top of that he had beamed down in its place something called ?lemonade?, a perfectly horrid Earth beverage that contained (he made a face at the thought) no alcohol what so ever!

?Captain?? said a cold voice from Kzinbane?s right. He turned to regard his lovely communications officer Stella who skewered him with an icy glare. Kzinbane nodded to her ?yes?? ?I am picking up a general alert on all Mirak channels. The Patriarch has issued a bounty on your head apparently. You are wanted alive it seems, something to due with defiling the royal daughter??

Kzinbane shrank into his seat under the communications officer?s glare. Wonderful he thought sarcastically, there goes any chance of ?getting busy? on the way home. Stella sent a final poisoned look his direction before turning back to her duties. What did she expect, Kzinbane thought rolling his eyes. ?Women!? he muttered turning to his engineering officer who quickly (and wisely) wiped an amused smile from his lips. Kzinbane shot a glare of his own around his bridge, noting the out pouring of innocent kitty looks he received and also how everyone was more attentive to their duties than usual.

Rolling his eyes again Kzinbane addressed his engineer ?It is time to use that little gift I acquired from our Romulan friends?. ?You understand sir? responded the engineer, ?That it can probably be used only once due to incompatibility with our systems?? Kzinbane switched the Bridge display to quadrant tactical and noted several Mirak ship along the BrewHaHa?s course. ?Turn it on Stringy? he ordered ? using the engineer?s nickname that had been gained by more than once using string to fix something un-fixable and get the ship out of mischief (mischief that Kzinbane had gotten it into).

?Aye sir? replied the officer. Stringy walked to his engineering console, inserted a key and turned it. The lights on the bridge dimmed.

Outside the GPF BrewHaHa wavered and faded into nothingness. Only the stars remained.


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ZTempest
Ensign   posted 12-18-2001 11:29 AM                 
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K'arbin and J'inn watched the viewscreen in horrified awe.
There was Tempest and M'ress, lounging in what used to be the flag bridge of Starbase 12. They had done something with their fur, it was splotchy with bright neon colors. M'Ress took a deep drag on a Catnip pipe and blew smoke at the screen...

"Hiya J'inn buddy pal, da rasta's fine, I gotta tell you, man, I bin to da beach and seen da whales jumpin in the spume of creation..."

Tempest turned a bleary eye to M'Ress.."yah man....I done seen it to! De Brite lights de purty sails, and sand, sand, sand....."

K'arbin snarled, "Tempest, what in the name of Mraa do you think you are doing? Where is your fleet? What happened to starbase 12?"

Tempest leaned forward, "Well, we sorta got our life priorities straight, and all, K'arbin. The Fleet is in spacedock, painting bright flowers on their hulls. We are thinking about replacing our weapons of death and destruction with speakers that will spread love and joy whereever we go. Oh! I renamed my battlecruiser to 'Make Love Not War!' and M'Ress renamed his to 'Cool Runnings'. What d'ya think? Is faded purple and pink better colors than that dark greenish-brown? The boys in the paint shed want to know...."

J'inn interrupted. "Tempest, have you seen Kzinbane? It is....important....that I find him."

"Ya man...you need some of this 'nip, see? Then you'll see LOTs of our little Lyran brothers who were so good as to donate this stuff to us!" Tempest leaned forward..."Besides man...I'm not feeling much love from over there....in fact...the negative vibes are like givin' me an M'Ress a headache!"

K'arbin lost his patience. "Tempest! What happened to Starbase 12! And what are those UGLY lights with GOO floating up and down in them??????? They look like the intestines from a dissected Hydran!"

"Hey man....quit with the negativity, already. This is no longer Starbase 12....we've renamed it the Kitty Catnip Commune, where we grow catnip, share with our sisters...and they SHARE with us, if you know what I mean, and spread love and joy to all that pass our way....and we found these cool lights in a box down in the cargo hold. It was addressed to Kzinbane...they are something called 'lava lamps'."

"WHAT!!!! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THE PATRIARCH IS GOING TO DO TO YOU?????"

"Wellllll...the Patriarch.....Me 'n M'Ress think that the Patriarch can use a little bit of positive energy in his life. That's why after we finish repainting our starships in joyous colors, same as our fur, and replacing our weapons with speakers, we are go'in back to M'Raa to help the Patriarch out with spreading love and joy throughout the universe!"

"FLOWER POWER!"

Tempest nodded to M'Ress. "That's right, Bro. We are going to bombard Mraa from orbit with tons of flowers while playing 'California Dreamin' from the Mama's and the Papas! That be da plan, man."

M'Ress suddenly broke out in song..."We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun...." Tempest caught the tune and began to sing along.....

J'inn reached forward and abruptly cut the channel. "We are facing a crisis here, K'arbin. Notify the Patriarch immediately, then we will continue our search for Kzinbane. There is really only one place for him to go...."

"Home."

Meanwhile...back at the Kitty Catnip Commune.....

Tempest looked at the blank screen with a dissapointed frown. "Yo man...dey cut the channel. Maybe they doan like that song, or what????"

M'Ress looked sadly. "They jes havn't seen the light, brother. Maybe we should have played this one, instead." He picked up a cube and casually tossed it in his hand. "some trader stopped by here yesterday and delivered it to us...."

"Lemme see that!"

"Okay bro..but remember that I found it first...be cool, okay?"

"Okay."

Temepst looked closely at the small writing, reading slowly..."Polka Wedding Tunes and Party Songs!"

"Yeah man...de trader suggested that we play this when we orbit Mraa...he said nothing gets people feeling more positive than wedding and party songs!"

"Hey man...I think he be right!"

"Peace Bro!"

"Peace!"

TO BE CONTINUED.....




 

[Gook]

DarkElf
Ensign   posted 12-18-2001 12:36 PM                 
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Note to Tempest:
J'inn had already found Kzinbane...
After receiving an e-mail, I thought it would be best if I edit the last part of my last post out.
-----------------------


After arriving back on the Intelligece:

DarkElf: Contact all engineers, they have one hour to repair and ready the ship for combat. Helm, set course for Chronos, Maximum warp.

Helm: Aye, sir.

DarkElf: =/\=All senior staff to the observation lounge=/\=

<<<Observation Lounge>>>

DarkElf: We have data confirming the location of the USS Love Machine. It is heading towards Chronos. I hope Hondo isn't trying to start another war.

Security Officer: What are our orders?

DarkElf: You will ready all security officers for hit and run raids. We are to commandeer his ship and return it to Federation Space.

Chief, I will need you to set up Level-10 containment fields around all key systems. If another polka bomb goes off I want to be ready.

Cheif Engineer: Aye.

Tactical Officer: What if Hondo opens fire on us?

DarkElf: We will be attacking first. Destroy the Love Machines warp nacelles and impulse engines. That should make him less of a threat. Hopefully someone will relieve him of his command. Beware, he is a tactical genius, and I am sure he is expecting us. Anything else any one wishes to add? .....

*hits is comm button*

DarkElf: This is the captain. We are about to enter Klingon space and engage the USS Love Machine. I need your best of our each one of you. We will engage them in 30 minutes. Red Alert, all hands to battlestations.


<<<Battle Bridge>>>

Tactical: It sure is cramped in here.

DarkElf: Yeah. I know. Helm, ETA to the Love Machine?

Helm: Three minutes.

Science: I am picking up two ships on scanners. USS Love Machine, and the IKV Stormbringer.

DarkElf: Dogmatrix...

Comm: Recieving a hail from the Jesse James.

DarkElf: Onscreen.

Thrain: You take the Love Machine. We'll handle the Stormbringer.

DarkElf: Good Luck.

Thrain: You too...

*The comm link is cut*

Tactical: Sir, both ships are powering weapons...

------------------
Dynaverse Pilot Profile Page - http://www25.brinkster.com/mpddarkelf/

IP: Logged
 
Hondo_8
Ensign   posted 12-18-2001 12:53 PM             
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A twinkling light can be seen from a Klingon out post in the outer reaches of there space. The Klingon commander stares at the lights flashing green, red, blue and white. He squints his eyes and for the briefest moment he can almost make out a twinkling word Merry Christmas. The Commander shakes his head thinking that he had too much to drink last night and then to be safe orders a ship to scout the mysterious lights.

Aboard the USS Love Machine all is in Holiday swing and the merry making is on full. (Well at least for her Captain it is)

?Jingle bells Klingons smell, some Lyran laid an egg, O what fun it is to ride the Patriarchs daughter in to town! Hey Jingle bells Jingle bell Rock da da da?. Ole and Drake need to go. And Tempest smoked a bowl?.? Abruptly the communication screen flashes cutting of Hondo impoptued singing. ?Captain Hondo this is Fedex we just want to confirm that your package was delivered right on time? Hondo grins at the Fedex captain on his screen. ? Excellent I knew you guys could do it, and now I will wire my payment to your freighter and I even have a bonus for all your crew.? Hondo grins as he types in the code.? Merry Christmas.? The freighter leaving Star base 12 suddenly explodes as it warps out blowing up in a fantastic display of Christmas colors leaving a colored display of sparks that any Hippie could spend days staring into.

Captain Hondo stands up and reaches for cappuccino and coffee brandy, as he heads for the bridge. Strriding on to the bridge he looks around ? I need a tire swing in here too.? Scratching his chin he strolls over to the communications officer. ? What?s the latest Intel from Starfleet.?? The comms officer goes over the latest reports ?Starfleet has reason to believe there is a group with in the Hydran empire pro Klingon, and have plans to dispatch a fleet in good faith to show the Hydrans the Federation still supports them. Starfleet Intelligence? Hondo chuckles at this ? Believes what ever the problem is it can be repaired. Other then that Dark Elf and Thrain are pushing to have you and this ship suspended from service until the Polk Bombing at Vulcan can be investigated, and since your run in with Dark Elf your Medication of Blue pills has been doubled.? Hondo groans not liking that nasty taste the Blue pill leaves in your mouth. ? Good report I?ll see that you are given a double rum when the rum barrels are tapped.?

Hondo leaves the bridge and walks aimlessly around his ship, pausing once in awile to adjust the tinsel hanging from the walls. ? O holy night the Star is shining! And that star is my ship?going to leave gifts and cheer for all those Klingon low Brows! And what I night, a rumpa pa rum?? Crew man who walk by make sure to give there Captain a wide berth knowing better to correct the captain on how badly his Christmas songs are being botched.

Suddenly the ship jumps to life*Red alert* Red Alert* "Captain to the bridge"

Hondo heads for the bridge "Is it happy hour already?"

The Bridge dispalys a rush of activity " Sir three ships closing fast. One Klingon vessle StormBringer, two Federation starships USS Jessie James and Dark Elfs ship, your orders Captain?" The weapon officer stands ready to carry out the orders of the Captain. "Its not Happy hour? O well..Ignore all there hails, Ensign bring up the Federation Starhip command codes. Science officer punch up the intel we recieved from our Hydran contact and see and find the storm bringers ship codes." Hondo strrips down to his undees and slides into the hot tube. "Three miniutes till intercept" Hondo waits with a grin. "Sir we have all three codes shall I shut there ships down?" Hondo laughs " Nope use the codes to gain control of there enviornmental computer and order the computer to produce a blizzard on there ships bridges....Its Christmas time and I feel a white christmas comming on..heheh. O and make sure you order there food replacators to only produce Hot chocalate and chicken soup and snow sholves, they'll need somthing warm while they dig themselves out"

Half an hour later, three ships are drifting in Klingon space having been white washed, while the Merry Ship USS Love Machine gets closer to spreading holiday cheer to all the naughty Klingons

[This message has been edited by Hondo_8 (edited 12-18-2001).]

IP: Logged
 
Julin Eurthyr
Ensign   posted 12-18-2001 02:14 PM                 
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Flag Ready Room, ISCS Little Paradise
The door opens, and Varkin brings a report over to Julin.
After a quick perusal of the report, Julin stands, and starts pacing. "So, it seems that we have a number of issues to deal with. And as of yet, no indiciation that our true objective has even begun."
"True, Admiral." Varkin replies, "But there still may be things necessary to do at Miraki Starbase 12."
"Yes." Julin nods as he continues his pacing, "however, it seems that we should practice a time-honored tradition, full utilization of our resources. Hail the Lazon, and have them prepare to deliver a special package from us. I also want the rest of the Echelon ready for a briefing, we have a lot of other details to cover. I'll brief the Echelon at 1600."
Flag Briefing Room, ISCS Little Paradise, 1600 hours
The briefing room is it's usual collection of "activity". At the head of the table is Julin. On his right, Varkin, and on Julin's left is Dareau, the captain of the Little Paradise.
The remaining seats of the room are filled with holograms of the other captains of the Echelon.
Julin stands, and walks over to the podium. He begins the briefing of his crews. "Okay. It seems that our lives are about to start getting interesting. Lazon, you have your orders already, a special delivery of Jello, and another set of our "special flavor" catnip. We will call you back to our area when the time comes. Angela, take the Strith and Thundercracker on a mission into Hydran space, seems that the robot we're looking for is heading out that way somewhere, take the Eyes of the Deep with you to find that android, we want it, now. The rest of the Echelon is to return to Concordian space for now, and take on more provisions. Seems that we might need that "special brew" Romulan Ale shortly, and some bloodwine. Little Paradise is on a special assistance mission, we will be occupied for a while it seems, we'll keep in touch. Any questions?"
Julin then takes a sip of water, while the captains of the various Echelon ships mull over their orders, and show looks of acceptance. "Okay, this briefing is over. Dismissed."

Flag Bridge, ISCS Little Paradise
"Communications, tight beam transmission to Captain DarkElf's ship, acknowledge his acceptance of our offer, and inform them of our course, we depart within the hour. Then hail the Echelon, and tell them to engage their missions."

------------------
Julin Eurthyr, Admiral
Commander, 673rd Echelon
Commander, ISCS Little Paradise

"It's the suede denim secret police. They've come for your uncool niece."
Last words heard from the hru'hfe at the beginning of a Tal'shiar raid of the house

IP: Logged
 
DarkElf
Ensign   posted 12-18-2001 02:40 PM                 
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Tactical: Sir, they are attempting to use our command codes to tap into our enviromental systems.
DarkElf: Hondo, what are you doing...has he forgotten?

It was standard procedure for all Starfleet vessels to change their command codes when chasing a Federation AWOL vessel. The old command codes would be useless.

Tactical: Orders, sir?

DarkElf: Open a channel to the Jesse James.

Conn: Aye, sir. Channel open.

DarkElf: Thrain is he trying to use your old command codes?

Thrain: Yes. We should attack his vessel.

DarkElf: I have a better idea. Lets play a trick on Hondo. Cut your enviromental controls, and 75% of your power, keep your shields up. Make it seem like he has disabled your ship. He will leave us like last time, thinking we are disabled. Then we will strike.

Thrain: A sound plan. Thrain out.

DarkElf: All stop. All hands...put on eviromental suits! Ops, set eviromental to 40 degress and cut power down to 25%.

Set the bridge controls to 32. We can't seem cozy up here.

*five minutes later the bridge felt like an icy winter day*

Conn: Love Machine is hailing.

DarkElf: Onscreen.

Hondo: Hehehehehe. You look cold Captain.

DarkElf: Elves are not supcestable to cold weather. This is tolerable to me...

Hondo: You don't get it...you'll never stop me from spreading holiday cheer! Be seeing you!

*The signal is cut*

DarkElf: Ops, restore bridge temperature.

Ok, we will wait thirty minutes. Then we will strike...


------------------
Dynaverse Pilot Profile Page - http://www25.brinkster.com/mpddarkelf/

 

[Gook]

Delta One
Ensign   posted 12-18-2001 06:55 PM                 
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Chief Guardsman T'alis was horrified as he took in the sight around him. Lord S'Cipio's mansion had been turned upside down.
"The Royal Egg Cup! Ssstolen! By my mother'sss fangsss! The sssacred liquor cabinet! Desssecrated!" he screamed.

Seething T'alis directed his rage at the closest Guardsman who had been on duty at the time,

"YOU!" he cried, "How did you allow thisss to occur while our Lord Sss'Cipio wasss away?"

"Well sssir, thisss errr, Mirak came over. He said that Lord Sss'Cipio had borrowed sssome of hisss thingsss and he wanted to pick them up sssir."

"A Mirak hey? And what was this Mirak's name?"

"He didn't give me his name sssir, but he was big and white...."

"White!" screamed T'alis. "Did he look like thisss?" he yelled pushing a photoimage of a giant Polar Mirak in front of the Guardsman.

"Yesss sssi..."

"You let the Mirak Information Minissster J'inn into the houssse? Don't you remember Lord Sss'Cipio'sss explicit instructionsss that thisss particular Mirak wasss to be SssHOT on sssight!" yelled T'alis at the young Guardsman (who's name happened to be R'Unis).

"No sssir, he just sssaid that he was not to be let in, sssir, under any circumssstancesss sssir," replied R'Unis nervously.

"Then why did you let him in!" yelled T'alis in purple rage.

"Well sssir, he sssaid he'd only be a minute and I didn't sssee the harm. The egg cup was ssso well protecte..."

"IDIOT!" T'alis punched his officer in the jaw. "How are we going to explain thisss to Lord Sss'Cipio?"

The communicator channel on the nearby wall beeped and Grand Admiral S'faret appeared on screen.

"Ah, T'alisss how goesss thingsss at Lord Sss'Cipio'ssss mansssion in hissss abss...."

There was a long pause as Admiral S'Faret assessed the chaotic scene before him.

"T'alisss," S'Faret hissed slowly, "Where isss the Royal Egg Cup?"

"Errr, we don't kn...."

"You don't konw T'aliss, I sssuppose....My Godsss what happened to SssACRED LIQUOR CABINET?! IT'S BEEN DEFILED!!!" S'Faret screamed as he saw many tens of broken sacred liquor bottles strewn all about.

"Well, we believe that Mirak Information Minissster J'inn may have the the egg and have defiled the sssacred cabinet sssir." T'alisss whispered softly.

"Nonsssense! My ssspies have been following Minissster J'inn for ssseveral weeks. He hasss not been near Gorn ssspace." replied S'Faret

"But he wasss ssseen here!" retorted R'Unis.

"Yesss. Wait.... it must have been that pesssky J'inn robot I've heard the Hydrans have. It tried to assssss... assssasss... murder their Captain Janusss. They mussst have reprogrammed it and usssed it to steal the Egg Cup and thusss frame our friendsss the Mirak." snarled S'Faret.

"But they are our alliesss." hissed T'alis, "Why would they do sssuch a thing?"

"Yesss, why? Perhapsss we ssshould sssend a fleet to the Hydran Kingdom to find out why!" snapped S'Faret, menace plain upon his features.

Of course events had been slightly different than this, but the rage of the Gorn knew no bounds. Shortly after finishing his conversation with S'Cipio's bumbling guards, Admiral S'Faret began plotting the great campaign to liberate the Royal Egg Cup and get revenge for the defiling of the sacred liquor cabinet.

The apparent trechery discovered, the Gorn fleet began to make ready. Outrage spread among the ranks of the Gorn population, and the Hydran Embassy was sacked in rioting. Angry diplomatic notices were exchanged and the precious Federation-led Alliance appeared in danger of cracking apart at the seams...

Meanwhile....

Captain Janus was beginning to get the headaches that the Gorn, Captain S'Cipio had warned him would occur when around Minister J'inn. Of course he was only around the imitation of Minister J'inn, so he could only imagine what the real J'inn would be like.

The robot had already won several family heirlooms and cash from him in poker matches and maxed out his credit card with interstellar long distance calls to a human radio show demanding that all Terran squirrels be exterminated. But that was only part of the chaos it had caused on board Admiral Ole's ship.

Already it had installed a "J'inn Emergency Protocol" into the ship's systems and had had itself beamed back on board. It had previously been duct taped to the outer hull by Admiral Ole's security staff.

"How in the godsss names did it do that?" asked Ole trying to brush yet more white hair off his uniform.

"Well it appeared it used it's mouth to form some kind of interplexing beacon." replied Captain Janus.

"Interplexing?" quizzed Admiral Ole.

"Yes, it used that beacon to establish a link with a Mirak ship in another sector. It then downloaded this protocol into our systems though it's neural capacitors and activated it." said Janus.

"It what now?" asked Ole.

"The protocol beamed the robot back on board and locked out all of the escape pods except for the robot's own personal use. Anyway sir, its back on board now. What should we do?"

"I know what we should do!" Ole grasped at his sidearm only to remember that he had lost it in a card game with the J'inn robot sometime earlier.

"That wouldn't be any good sir, it seems to have found and hidden the Royal Egg Cup. Probably in one of the escape pods, seeing as we can no longer get to them. It mentioned something about having an insurance policy." Janus said bitterly.

"I thought you put it behind 15 level 10 forcefields, 4 bulkheads and encased it in an unopenable antimatter proof safe?" growled Ole.

"Yes sir, but it seems very adept at finding things. It did babble on about his parent's never being able to hide his Christmas presents either." said Janus scowling.

"Gods!" Ole fumed. "Lets hope the real J'inn arrives soon and takes it from us otherwise we'll have no peace!"

"Errr sir." Janus pointed out, "May I remind you that when Minister J'inn arrives we'll have two of them to contend wi...."

"ARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGH! No you may not!" screamed Ole. "Now get out of here and ensure that they clanking mechanical monster doesn't enter my sight again! And if it does I'll see that you're busted down to Ensign!"

"Yes sir, thank you sir." muttered Janus as he slinked out of the Admiral's ready room.

As he did so he was spotted by the J'inn robot down the hallway.

"Hey Janey," it called, "Wanna try and win some of that cash back off me? C'mon, I'll even let you keep the shirt on your back this time."

"No thank you." muttered Janus angrily.

"Oh well, maybe Ole wants to pla..." replied the robot attempting to push past Janus into the Admiral's ready room.

"No no!" said Janus imagining Ole ripping off his captain's pips, "I'll play with you..."

"Afraid Ole clean me out before you get the chance huh?" snickered the robot, "Well cool, what do you wanna play five card stud, maybe some blackjack, a little gin rummy..."

"Whatever you like." sighed Janus.

"Wicked!" said the robot, "It's going to be a great night!"

Janus groaned as he followed the robot to the crew recreation deck. He just hoped the robot really would let him keep his shirt this time...


[This message has been edited by Delta One (edited 12-18-2001).]

 

[Gook]

Scipio_66
Ensign   posted 12-18-2001 07:22 PM                 
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S?Cipio was feeling a bit repressed by the time he began walking towards Squiggy?s new mansion for their midnight status meeting. The streets of the Klinshai capital were being ripped apart by terrorist polka bombs, and Q?onosian troopers were everywhere. Each of them seemed to have secret orders to harrass him in particular.
"P?Tok!!" screamed yet another trooper in a reasonless rage. He tried to shove S?Cipio off the sandstone colored sidewalk. "You are not wanted here, offworlder!" Gorn generally move with an exagerated slowness that other races find silly. The result of this is that whenever they do decide to move quickly their target is usually quite unprepared. This particular Q?onosian Klingon found himself suddenly face down on the pavement. He had no clear idea how he had gotten there, and knew only that pressure from S?Cipio?s left hand made any movement impossible.

"Klingon, I *am* ssstronger than you," hissed S?Cipio, more in frustration than anger. It was virtually impossible for a bare-fisted Klingon to harm a Gorn, but S?Cipio began to suspect Dogmatix had his military peace-keeping teams on harrassment duty just to slow down whatever the Gorn Admiral was up to. He picked the soldier up and tossed him in the general direction the man had been traveling before.

"You?re not so tough when I have my Batleth!" bellowed the Klingon as he scampered off. S?Cipio sighed. That was not the first time he?d heard that line. No doubt the man would be back soon. With his Batleth. And with several friends.

S?Cipio continued on to Squiggy?s condo, of which he disapproved. A condo fifty stories up within a private building was far too visible for secret plotting. The Gorn Senate, however, did not care, and did not allow S?Cipio to control the money he funneled to the Klinshai undergournd very tightly. All the Senate understood was that massive funds were supposed to solve problems. So long as any new Klingon government promised to be more friendly to Ghdar, the Klinshai could spend their cash as they saw fit.

Enterring the condo, S?Cipio moved quickly to the one portion of the residence of which he did approve. The balcony. You could catch a lot of sun on this balcony. It was almost as good as the big rock he curled up on in his front yard back home. Tonight the balcony was awash with Polka music. Squiggy was dancing madly in his cuban heels and wide brimmed hat upon the narrow railing, kicking his feet above his head in a wild imitation of some Russian dance while using his ornate cane for balance. His long leather coat flew ostentatiously around him. Chal the Goliath, Kludge, and S?Treleg were all in attendance. So was an unfortunate Q?onosian that Chal was suspending by his neck.

Squiggy stopped dancing with an abrupt click of his heels as S?Cipio enterred. "Hiya, S?Cippy," he greeted. "Chal, teach this too-silent fool to fly." Chal casually tossed his burden over the railing. Squiggy leaned out to watch him fall. "I don?t think he?s going to learn in time."

"He wasn?t very smart," agreed the affable Chal. "Smart. S-M-A-R-T. Smart."

"Very good, Chal." . A dull thud was heard on the street below as the falling Klingon?s scream was cut short. Squiggy came to ramrod attention upon the railing. He licked his lips. "Oooohhhhhh..... Squiggalicious!"

"I can?t wait for the glorious day when Dogmatix gets *his* turn," said Kludge.

"You are aware," interjected S?Treleg, "that Dogmatix no longer even ssssitsss upon the Council."

Kludge merely shrugged. "Old grudges are hard to forgive."

S?Cipio could hardly blame Kludge for that. Gorn understood about grudges. "I?m lessss worried about Dogmatix? fate than I am about hisss noticing bodiesss upon the streetsss."

"Oh, don?t worry about that, S?Cip," assured Squiggy. He was dancing upon the railing again, kicking in half-time to the polka. "At times like these, Q?onosians fling themsleves from tall buildings all the time." He waved his hands dramatically, making a fall seem inevitable. ?K?bluth! I have shaved my cheeks in the wrong order and thus disgraced my ancestors! I must purge my family?s honor with my dramatic death!? You know, that sort of thing."

"Silly," confirmed Chal. The big Klingon reached down to pet Squiggy?s rediculously fluffy Persian cat as it began sniffing S?Treleg?s legs. "Kitty," he said, then grinned.

"And who wasss our essstemed guest?"

"Morale officer for Doggy?s fleet!" cried Squiggy in triumph. He cut a sharp pirouette upon the railing, long coat cracking like a whip. "And I?ve arranged to have him replace with one of my own crew. Should the good Dog ever meet us in battle he?s in for quite a shock. No ABBA will be blaring from the speakers to inspire his troops. No, no! Instead he?ll get an ultra-rare *polka* rendition of the Hawaii 5-0 theme!"

"That?s........ *evil*, Squiggy," managed Kludge.

"Evil," agreed Chal. "S-M-A-R-T. Evil."

"Pre *cise* ly!" Squiggy doffed his wide-brimmed hat to the big Klingon. "Chal understands me perfectly. And what of you, S?Cip? What has the architect of all things evil on Klinshai been doing with his evening?"

"Usssing Gorn diplomatic channelsss I have been able to sssend a cryptic messsage to Captain Kayne. Not enough to give usss away, but enough to get hisss curiosssity."

"And?"

"DSF ssscentral command can no longer locate the Nemesisss"

"Squiggalicious!" cried Squiggy as he cut a handspring dismount from the railing. "I?m going to take that as a yes! Oh, you Gorn are worth your weight in gold when it comes to bypassing the roadblocks of the DSF communication network. Keep trying for Krenn. We Klinshai are going to have a real navy encircling the Imperial Shipyards before Q?onos even knows it?s in a war!"

"We shall drive them before us!" gloated Kludge.

"When I ascend the throne, it shall be a glorious day for all Klinshai!" declared Squiggy.

Kludge grew quiet and S?Cipio took notice. With Kludge, Squiggy, Kayne, and Krenn in the mix he was sure no ascension to the throne would be smooth. The final winner didn?t really matter, however, so long as the eventual ascendant was properly grateful to the Confederation. But no fractures in the cabal could be allowed to widen now.

"What are your plansss, Kludge?" Best to remind the man he was important.

"Your last shipment of bombs and arms was received on schedule. Full scale rebellion starts in the Kahrang provincial capital in three days. Our Polka bomb campaign has assured that all the Q?onossian troops are clustered in Klinshai city. If they resond with their usual scream-and-leap attitude, they should overreact and leave the capital virtually defenseless. Then the real fun begins."

"Hey!!" screamed S?Treleg in alarm. The cat had stuck its claws into his leg and was looking up to see how he?d take it. The claws couldn?t have hurt to a Gorn, but S?Treleg shook the animal off and scampered away in alarm.

"Pay him no mind," assured Squiggy. "It?s just natural reflexive action. Cats love to claw leather."

S?Treleg shot the cat a nasty glare and then voiced his usual worried opinion. "We alssso have word of Toten moving under sssecret orders. If Dogmatix hasss recalled him with a fleet of shipsss, there could be disssaster."

"The Burnt Corpse!" cried Squiggy. "He?ll have a new reason for his nickname after he finds himself on the wrong end of Deadmeat and SunTsu!"

"Not if he hassss fassst missiles on his sssshipssss. What sssay you to thisss, Admiral?"

S?Cipio had to concede the point. "We have found and confisssscated three stockpilessss of fast missilessss, but no production facilitiesss. Q?onosss claims they are old-production leftovers. The Federation inspectorsss agree." He paused. "I am lesss sure. I would advissse patience"

Squiggy grew serious. As he thought he placed his left pinky to the corner of his mouth. Then he snapped to attention again. "No. Those Q?onossian genetic mistakes are still demoralized after their undeserved defeat in the last war. This is still our best time to strike. Speed, wits, and will are our advantages here, not firepower. We always knew we would have to beat them quickly or not at all.

"Confiscate what you can. Keep their stocks of fast missiles empty. Keep ours full. The RSRD will be able to handle what Dogmatix and Toten can throw at us. Deadmeat, SunTsu, and Chal are all top-of-the-line-lads." His smile was meant to be encouraging, but always just looked evil. "You Gorn are too cautious."

"Cautious," said Chal. This was a new word for him, and he decided he?d better get to work spelling it properly. "Cautious. S-M-A-R-T. Cautious"

"Pre *cisssse* ly!" agreed S?Cipio firmly.

"KITTY!!!!" screamed Chal. Kitty had again tested its claws, and then found itself at the receiving end of S?Treleg?s kick. Chal caught it in the nick of time before it sailed through the railing, then gave it a hug. The frightened feline feared Chal?s biceps even more than the 50 floor drop. It scrabbled free of its saviour to leap for the safety of Squiggy?s left shoulder.

"Sorry," offered S?Treleg. "Just natural, reflexive action." S?Cipio noted just how often natural reflexive action could get you exactly what you wanted.

**********

An hour later S?Cipio exited onto the still hot but now empty streets of Klinshai. (There was a midnight to dawn shoot on sight curfew for all Klinshai Klingons after the last bombing. ) He held a secret message in his pocket that troubled him greatly. S?Treleg had palmed it to him earlier, but coming down the stairs had been his first chance to read it.

HONDO AWOL. BELIEVED EN ROUTE TO Q?ONOS FOR SABOTAGE
MISSION. BELIEVED RESPONSIBLE FOR VULCAN BOMBING.
BELIEVED INVOLVED IN POSSIBLE HYDRAN REBELLION.
MIRAK FEDERATION AND ISC FORCES IN PURSUIT. EFFECTS OF A
Q?ONOS ATTACK ON KLINSHAI POLITICAL SITUATION UNKNOWN.
ADVISE CAUTION.

Hondo was being a busy boy. Why was he going to Q?onos? He had gotten the Gorn embassy shut down on Tera. Would he try to stop the forming revolution on Klinshai? There were too many Fed officers hanging around with his own agents here on Klinshai. S?Cipio needed confirmation from an outside agency. Ole? No, too involved. Perhaps someone not in the intelligence community, but still with many ears in the right places? Someone like Tempest? No, better someone expendable. Of course! Someone like J?inn! Now if only he could find the huge white cat He?d been getting very few updates from MIST lately.

"Pssst! Hey! Gorn!"

S?Cipio turned to see two skulking figures step out of the shadows. Their ears were pointed. Their disruptor pistols were pointed at his head. "Ummmm..... I?m guessssing that Kremen wantssss a chat?" asked the head of Gorn intelligence hopefully. He saw a flicker of movement in one of the trigger fingers.

S?Cipio?s world grew very bright. Then S?Cipio?s world grew very dark.

-S?Cipio


------------------
Neighbors said he was a quiet man, who kept mostly to himself.


[This message has been edited by Scipio_66 (edited 12-18-2001).]

 

[Gook]

J'inn
Ensign   posted 12-18-2001 08:45 PM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few hours ago . . . (Hey I gotta work!!)
Captain K'arbin and Minister J'inn were siting in the Captain's Ready room on the MCS Weak Slayer. J'inn had used a few gigawatts of replicator power and was now decked out in a fine tailored charcoal gray suit with oh so subtle pin striping, a gray silk button down shirt, and a fine Italian silk necktie that went smashingly with his Italian tasseled loafers. The cufflinks, pocket square and Armani eyeglasses were the icing on the cake.

J'inn was in the field, which always made him happy. But he was on a starship which made him jumpy as a cat at a dog show. Every two minutes he felt in his pocket for his communicator. J'inn was now able to activate a Miraki communicator and yell "Computer: J'inn Emergency Transport. Energize!" in two seconds flat.

The screen had just gone dark from it's link with M'Ress and Tempest. "Lords this had been a weird year." J'inn thought. K'arbin reached to activate the comm system to contact the Patriarch, when J'inn suddenly realized something and slapped K'arbin's hand away.

"What!"

"Umm, I think we should tell the Warchief instead."

"We should tell them both."

"Umm, well, umm, I think proper protocol is to report to the Warchief and let him tell the Patriarch. Wouldn't one to step on Gooky's paws now would we?" J'inn said nervously, for J'inn had just remembered that the Patriarch was the last person he wanted to talk to. Problem was he couldn't let Boy Scout KAT-K'arbin find out about this little bit of trouble. K'arbin would turn him in.

"Perhaps your right." K'arbin agreed and activated the Comm panel.

After getting past the Warchief's adjutant. The visage of the great military leader of Mraa graced the screen. "J'inn!" he yelled. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?"

"Heh! Hi Sir! Ya see Captain K'arbin sitting RIGHT here? Heh, heh. Well Captain K'arbin is a fine military officer. Yes siree. I'll bet he would do ANYTHING the Patriarch ordered. Heh. Even kill. Heh heh. Ahem."

"Umm, thanks I guess." K'arbin stated.

"Hmmm. I see." The wise leader stated. "I wonder if this has been the opportunity I've been waiting for." And with that Gook broke into a wide grin. He was clearly enjoying watching J'inn squirm. J'inn and Gook had been drinking buddies for years. But J'inn had also, not surprisingly, been a serious pain in the Warchief's furry butt. For a few moments J'inn was seriously worried.

"Well you guys called me!" Gook stated and J'inn breathed a sigh of relief.

And then J'inn filled the Warchief in on what was now being called in some circles The Woodstock Situation. Gook immediately ordered two fleets to guard the main planets within Miraki Space (there aren't many) and put the entire military on high alert. J'inn also informed him of the Kzinbane situation.

"Grrrrr." Gook hissed. "The W.A.N.K.E.R. network is in an uproar and my wife is the leader of the damn chorus. They see this as an opportunity for (he flinched involuntarily) passage of the Equal Shopping Rights Amendment to the Miraki Charter. Kzinbane must DIE!!!" He yelled. "I'll keep the Hades' Hellcats KAT fleet on patrol for him. He must still be in Miraki space and we have done our best to close the Lyran border. Kzinbane will be ours!"

"Sir, if you get the scent of the prey, please inform me." J'inn said with a look of anticipation in his eye. "I'm on my way to meet with some Hydrans, there is something bad brewing in stinkyland."

"I don't give a damn about the Hydrans. Get your ass to the Lyran border now!"

"But Sir this an Intelligence matter so on this issue I am not under your command."

"Gee, J'inn, I guess you are right. How rude of me. Oh by the way, Captain K'arbin, I think I have a message for you from the Patriarch. Let's see I know it's here somewhere."

"Did you say the Lyran border? Well, I thought you said the Hydran border. Heh. Bad connection. We're on our way. I guess there'll be other Mirak warships in the area, ahem."

"Glad to hear your gonna help out J'inn. Oh, I seem to be having a little trouble getting ALL the news way out there to the border. Gosh, what a shame. Beside, I want to have a little talk with you later about the burning rubble that used to be my officers' club! So J'inn, do try and stay alive. At least until I have a chance to kill you. Gook Out!"

K'arbin hit his Comm panel. "XO, set course for the Lyran border, maximum warp."

"That will take a while Sir. We are currently way out near the Federation border. However, if we cut through a parsec our two of Federation space we could make some significant headway."

"Make it so!" K'arbin ordered.

Sensing yet another opportunity J'inn got up and ran out of the room. "Damn spook!" K'arbin grumbled.

Meanwhile somewhere near the Hydran-Romulan border in a cloaked (yes you read that right) Hydran Dragoon Cruiser . . .

"Shhh!" Captain Drall hissed at the Hydran standing next to him. Drall was in the command chair of the HMS Silent But Deadly. The ship's atmosphere had been changed over to Romulan standard and the sole Hydran officer on the ship was wearing an environmental suit.

"Sorry, sir" the Hydran engineer stated.

"It is okay." Drall sighed quietly. "You are not used to being cloaked. When cloaked all officers of the super duper elite SPQR talk only in whispers."

"Got it." the Hydran whispered.

"We walk on our tippy toes then too. Keep that in mind." Drall ordered.

"But sir, I don't have tippy toes." the Hydran whispered.

"Hmm that presents a problem, we will have to have a meeting about this later." Drall sighed again. "How is the cloaking device performing?"

"Sir, we are having trouble with it. We are cloaked but for some reason we are leaking an inordinate amount of tetryon particles. We are trying to reconfigure the cloaking field at this time."

"Get on it. This operation won't work unless your ships will be able to cloak."

Just then the tactical officer turned and whispered something. Drall couldn't hear him and held his hand to his ear. The officer whisper again. Still no good, so Drall motioned him to walk over to the command chair.

The tactical officer slouched his shoulders and tippy toed over to Drall. "Sir, there is a Hydran frigate just two thousand kilometers away from us on their side of the border. They have not detected us."

"Excellent. This gives us an opportunity to test the effectiveness of the cloak. Helm." Drall whispered. The officer did not turn around. "Psst, Helm." No response."

"Tactical, go tell helm to bring us to station 500 kilometers of that ship's beam and to match her course and speed."

The tactical officer tippy toed over to the helm and relayed the message.

Aboard the HMS Royal Pain, Captain Cylos sat in his command perch. He had no idea why the Admiralty had ordered so many units to the Romulan border. It was sooooo quiet here. Nothing was doing.

"Sir" his Tactical officer reported. Sensors report an odd subspace distortion moving towards us. It is emitting a high level of tetyrons. The signal is intermittent."

"A cloaked ship?"

"No, sir I don't think so. The signal is too erratic and it doesn't match any Romulan cloaking signature that we have on file."

"On screen!"

"Sir! Sensors now show a mixture of tetyrons and gamma radiation discharging from an unknown source. I still can't pinpoint . . ." Just then a flare of plasma appeared on the screen and a Dragoon heavy cruiser flickered into existence. Plasma was pouring from one of the great ship's warp nacelles."

"What the hell . . ." Cylos yelled.

Aboard the Silent But Deadly . . .

The Klaxon sounded and their entire bridge crew shushed at it and then turned to their consoles.

"Sir, cloaking failure!" The Tactical Officer yelled. The Hydran turned and shushed him.

"We are no longer cloaked you fool!" Drall yelled at the poor confused engineer as the Hydran ran off the bridge and to the engineering room.

"We have been discovered!" Drall yelled. "Tactical target that ship with everything this pathetic excuse for a warship has and fire!"

The Silent But Deadly was only 750 kilometer away when she opened fire, and the Royal Pain was a tiny warship that wasn't even at battle stations. The last thing Cyclos' three eyes beheld was the fury of hell coming at his little ship. He never even had time to get off a distress signal. Or, a message.

Aboard the Weak Slayer while crossing into Federation space . . .

J'inn sat in his luxury quarters at his data terminal. He had accessed the fleet data banks and pulled up the names of federation warships assigned to this sector.

USS Constellation
USS Rapier
USS Firefox
USS Intrepid
USS Richmond
USS Seattle
USS Ichiro

"BINGO! J'inn thought as he read, USS Slow Poke under the command of Captain Laflin.

J'inn then accessed the sub-space comms system. "Hello Federal Express. Yes the is Warrior Dogmatix." J'inn said in a gruff voice while sorting through a thick stack of credit cards.

"I need something delivered to the MSC Weak Slayer absolutely, positively right now! Credit card, why certainly," he said while selecting a Klingon Credit Card with the name "Dogmatix" embossed on the front in blood red. J'inn snickered as saw the advertisement phrase on the card. "Klingon Express: Don't kill, slaughter or maim in glorious battle without it!"

"Oh by the way, this will be a live animal shipment. Extra charge. Sure I understand. Charge away!"

A few hours later . . .

The white freighter with the orange and blue Federal Express striping pulled away from the Weak Slayer. "What the hell have you put in my cargo hold!" K'arbin asked. "I'm getting reports of large containers with small air holes and a hideous shrieking noise."

"Sorry Captain." J'inn said in his most official voice. "That is classified. At this point I need you to locate and hail the USS Slow Poke. I have a diplomatic delivery to make."

A few hours later . . .

Captain Laflin sat in his command throne on the bridge of the USS Slow Poke. He looked at the Mirak Medium Drone Cruiser in his view screen and thought to himself "Thank goodness they are on our side. I hate drones!"

"Captain we are being hailed his Communications Officers reported."

"On Screen." The Viewscreen flickered and then revealed a Miraki Captain. His uniform immaculate.

"Greeting human. I am K'arbin, Captain of the Miraki Warship Weak Slayer. I have been ordered to deliver vital (K'arbin seemed distracted and looked off screen to his right) err intelligence information to you. We have captured some ISC technology. It is not dangerous. Request permission to beam it aboard."

"ISC technology!" Laflin thought. "That would be an intelligence coup. Man, maybe Admiral Jeff would let me out of the dog house for that last practical joke." But no, Laflin was not stupid.

"Scan that ship." He ordered.

"Nothing seems out of the ordinary. I am detecting a large stash of data crystals and odd machinery in their main hold. Along with a large number of live animals in another hold." The Science Officer reported.

"Their food." Laflin said with disgust. "I've heard about that. Well all seems safe, Weak Slayer begin transport. And I thank your government on behalf of the Federation."

The crystals and devices were a ruse J'inn had come up with. It was the "live stock" that was transported over. Not the crates mind you. Just what was inside. Destination: the bridge of the USS Slow Poke.

All around Laflin small furry animal materialized. Hundreds of them. He looked around in shock. SQUIRRELS! Hundreds of screaming running squirrels! The screen flickered to life. "What the hell is this all about!" Laflin yelled as a squirrel ran around like a dog chasing its tail on the top of the once proud Captain's head. And that is when he saw the last person he wanted to see. K'arbin was no longer in sight. Just a big, chubby white Mirak with a really nice suit.

"J'inn! I should have known!" Laflin raged.

"Heya buddy! I just thought you'd like some pets. I know it gets lonely way out here in the middle of nowhere. So I thought, gosh I'd bet my good buddy Laflin would like a pet or two. Hey, I know ya didn't expect it. Not after that nasty little prank you pulled on me last year with those Orions. Tsk! But me, I never hold a grudge. Especially, not with my buddies. Have fun with your pets. And remember treat them nice, the Federation looks down on Captains who are mean to cute little furry critters. <snicker> Ciao, buddy!"

"Tactical get a tractor lock on that ship!" No response. "Tactical!" Laflin yelled as he spun around to see his officer fighting with three particularly angry squirrels that were standing on his console.

"Sir," his helmsman yelled, "they have gone to warp. Their heading will place them at the Mirak/Lyran border."

Laflin could not respond. He was fending off several particularly vicious squirrels that really didn't seem to appreciate his presence on the bridge.

(Okay who didn't see this coming. Alright, maybe not exactly this, but something along these lines.)

[This message has been edited by J'inn (edited 12-18-2001).]

 

[Gook]

Delta One
Ensign   posted 12-18-2001 11:27 PM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In a dark alley on the Hydran homeworld, the co-conspiritors once again were meeting.

"Excellent! The plan is proceeding well. The Gorn fleet is on there way to reclaim their precious egg cup." said the master to his underling.
"Yes M'Lord, the Gorn invasion force will force the bulk of the Hydran fleet currently stationed on the Romulan border and Homeworld to redeploy to meet them."
"And with the Romulan border and homeworld unguarded..." the hidden Lord began.
"Yes my master, even if the Gorn and Hydrans reach an understanding quickly as is likely, 'they' will be too late to stop us in our plan." finished his servant.
"Excellent! Let prepartions for the final stage begin!"

************

"Scan the debris ensign." said Captain Janus.

"Yes sir." replied the young ensign. "What exactly should I be looking for?"

"Look for energy signatures. Who destroyed that ship?" Janus said impatiently tugging at his third best shirt, the one that was slightly too small for him. He was used to his first officer Commander Bala figuring out the pertinent informatio he wanted for herself on his own ship.

"Aye sir. Scanning now...."

The young ensign gasped.

"What is it ensign?" asked Janus suddenly concerned.

"The ship was destroyed by Hydran weapons sir!"

"What? Let me see...." began Janus.

"Don't you believe her Janey?" asked the robot J'inn. "That doesn't show much faith in the crews abilities does it..."

The giant beast stopped short as he saw that the Hydran Captain had his sidearm pointed directly at it's chest.

"I warned you to stay off the bridge demon!" Janus growled softly, glowering at the sight of the huge robot wearing his second best shirt that it had won in cards mere hours before.

"Why, no need to be touchy." retorted the robot. "Just because the real me hasn't arrived yet."

"There has been trouble at the Lyran border. I doubt he is going to come." said Janus.

"Really, what kind of trouble?" asked the robot keenly.

"Just another war between the Mirak and Lyrans." Janus shrugged, "Security escort this clankin...."

"Captain," the communications officer interrupted, "We are receiving reports from the Gorn Confederation sir. It appears that riots are in progress and a huge Gorn fleet led by Grand Admiral S'Faret is en route to the Hydran Kingdom."

"The Royal Egg Cup." Janus gasped, "They've found out it's missing! Where did you put it you great mechanical beast!"

"Sir, I'm detecting massive tetryon particle emissions. 8000 kilometers and closing."

"What? Raise shields." said Janus, "All power to forward weapons array."

"Computer initate J'inn Emergency Transport."

"What! NO!" yelled Janus as the giant robot dematerialised next to him. "Stop it."

"I can't sir, the J'inn Emergency Protocol has locked me out. Captain, it appears that an escape pod has been jettisoned. It is heading towards the source of the tetryon particles at high impulse."

"Pursuit course! Engage!" yelled Janus.

"Captain, what the hell is.... oh gods..." cried Admiral Ole as he ran onto the bridge from the turbolift.

A giant Dragoon cruiser had appeared on the viewscreen before the shocked admiral. Before their eyes the escape pod containing the J'inn robot was sucked into the ship via a transporter beam.

"Tactical, target their heavy weapons systems through that downed shield! Helm, get us out of here!" Janus yelled as the bridge rocked under withering phaser fire.

Seemingly untroubled by the behemoth challenging it, phasers lashed out from the black painted Crusader frigate and scored direct hits on the Dragoon cruiser. This knocked out the enemy's weapons for just the few precious seconds that Admiral Ole's ship needed to warp out of danger. And she did just so, disappearing into the field of stars like a shadow in the night.

******

"So, you have returned." whispered the Romulan Admiral seated on the bridge of the Hydran Dragoon Cruiser Silent but Deadly.

"Yeah sure thing!" said the J'inn robot brashly.

"Sssssssssh! I needn't remind you what happened to your precedessor."

"What?" the J'inn robot yelled, "Can't hear y...."

Then suddenly realisation hit and the robot fell silent.

"Yes, J'inn robot number 1. Now the curator of squirrels at the Romulus Zoo." the Romulan whispered menace dripping from his every word.

"Gulp! Hey, you might want to wipe that drool off your fac..." began the J'inn robot.

"Sssssh!" said Drall wiping off the offending material from his chin with his SPQR hankerchief. Usually menace didn't do that but he put it down to the smelly Hydran ship he was one. Must have been something in the air he decided.

"What will we do about the Hydran ship that escaped sir?" whispered one of Drall's officers.

"Nothing... I expect they will have their hands full of Gorn shortly. They will finish them off for us" smiled Drall softly.

Yes, he thought, everything was going to plan and the operation was sure to be a complete success. And he would be rewarded well...

"Anybody want a game of cards?" asked the J'inn robot.

Drall shrugged, "Why not?" he whispered.....

**********


IP: Logged
 
corbin369
Ensign   posted 12-19-2001 12:12 AM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ready room of the Week Slayer:
'J'inn I can't have you deadheading on this ship anylonger.' K'arbin informed him. 'Its bad for morale and it confuses the chain of command with you looking over my shoulder. So I have to give you a job.'
'What do you think your talking about?' Was the indignant response from J'inn.
'You know, work?' Shot back K'arbin. 'Now, I'm only down one crew member, so you will have to cover off that spot. Security, please escort J'inn down to Chief S'lnger. Oh, and J'inn..don't try your safety passwords. It took two days to dig 'em out of the ships systems.' Now K'arbin rose to tower over the walking disaster area called J'inn.
'I have other sources in the Fleet and they have been good enough to pass on the Patriarch's...message about you. I'm not in this for your hair brained schemes or your back room cloak and dagger excrement. I'm in this for M'Ress. I will find out what's happened and fix it BEFORE his WIFE calls me. And do you know why? Hummm. Because SHE scares me MORE then you!!. Take him away.'
After the door had closed The XO F'raged spoke. 'One hundred and twenty-six passwords. I hope we got them all. What job do you have for him anyway?' K'arbin grinned. 'Missile handler third class. Next to waste extraction its the dirtiest, labour intensive job on the ship.'
'Just one thing, Sir?.' Asked F'raged. 'How did you know about the passwords?'
'Simple, really. Squirrels like him always have a way out. Now, what do we have on subspace comms traffic?'
Mean wile, back on Starbase 12.
'Hey mon, look at this. It have 8 little dots on the screen. Day look like day be go'n round us like.'
'Sheit, bumbakla, I tink it be 5-0 mon. Batter call de big mon.
IP: Logged
 
DarkElf
Ensign   posted 12-19-2001 01:11 AM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*thrity minutes passed*
DarkElf: Ops, restore evenviromental controls. Power to full. Tactical, charge weapons, and ready a spread of photons with maximum firepower.

Ops: Aye, sir.

Tactical: Sir, their is an ISC vessel dropping out of warp. It is registered ISCS Little Paradise. They are hailing.

DarkElf: Onscreen.

Julin: Captain....this is Julin Eurthyr of the ISCS Little Paradise. I am here to offer assistance to capturing the Love Machine.

*DarkElf signals the conn officer to mute the transmission*

DarkElf: We may need their help---we could be facing an uphill battle here. Even though my gut tells me I shouldn't, I am inclined to accept the offer. Any objections?

*Nothing but silence on the bridge*

DarkElf: Resume the transmission.....I accept your generous offer...but I must warn you....do not make regret this. Any unprevoked attack will be considered an act of war.

Julin: I would do nothing of the sort. We, the ISC, are the dedicated peace keepers of the galaxy.

DarkElf: So you say. But remember this is a FEDERATION matter. Intelligence out.

*The comm link is cut*

Tactical: I do not trust her.

DarkElf: Neither do I. But we don't have any choice. Prepare to attack.

Tactical: Aye, sir.

Helm: Setting course to intercept the Love Machine.


Meanwhile aboard the Love Machine:

Hondo: Everything is going according to plan. No one will stand in my way.

*an shadowy figure appears*

Unknown: Dont screw this up Hondo. There is a lot at stake here.

Hondo: Don't worry. Everything is taken care of. The trap is set up.

Unknown: Just DONT screw this up. Should we be discovered....

Hondo: That won't happen. Count on it!

Tactical Officer: Captain Hondo to the bridge.

Hondo: Just watch.

<<<Aboard the Intelligence>>>

DarkElf: Drop out of warp. Shields up!
Target the USS Love Machine's warp nacelles.

Tactical: We will be in range in one minute.

Science: Jesse James, and Little Paradise forming up on our flank.

Tactical: Range in twenty seconds...


<<<USS Jesse James>>>

Thrain: Something doesn't feel right...

Science: Sir! The ISC Vessel is transmitting a signal. Its a trap!

Thrain: Helm, break formation! Conn, signal the Intelligence to abort!

Science: Two ships are decloaking! One Klingon...and one FEDERATION!

Thain: Hard About! Target the ISC vessel!

<<<USS Intelligence>>>

Tactical: Sir, the Jesse James is breaking formation! They are signaling abort! Two ships are decloaking. One Klingon and one Fed... Incoming PPD!

*the console explodes to the tune of polka*

Engineer: Direct hit to the deck 3, section 21-Alpha! Argh!!! The music!

DarkElf: You ok?! Argh! Damnit!

Tactical: This really sucks!

DarkElf: Take out his warp nacelles!

Tactical: Firing all weapons!

<<<Love Machine>>>

Hondo: Hehe, what are you firing at?

Tactical: Sir, he's firing all he has on our warp nacelles!

*The ships shakes violently, everyone is thrown all over the bridge. Consoles expode and bulkheads fly*

Hondo: Report!

Engineer: Main power is offline. Hull breaches throughout the ship. OUr warp nacelles have been blown away. We can't engage warp until they are replaced. A refit will take weeks...

Hondo: My precious ship, my expensive hot tub...he will pay!!!

Unknown: Let the Klingons and the ISC
have their fun with them. We will disengage, we have some unfinished business to take of.

Hondo: Fine. Let them have all the fun... Nurse, scrub me! I am soiled!

<<<USS Intelligence>>>

Science: His warp nacelles have been destroyed...

Tactical: Massive weapons fire incoming!

DarkElf: Crap!

*The ship rocks violently, and all the consoles on the battle bridge shatter. He fell to the floor very hardly*

DarkElf: *getting up* Re..port.

Helm is offline!
Weapons are offline!
Main power and auxillary power offline!
We are running on batteries!

Tactical: We are done for...

Engineer: Captain, that last shot took out the magnetic interlocks! We have a coolent leak! Warp core breach in Five minutes!

DarkElf: *hits is conn button* All hands abandon ship! All hands abandon ship! This is not a drill! You heard me---move!

*everyone evacuates but he doesn't move*

All: Captain!

DarkElf: I'll be with you shortly. Trust me. I have to take care of those two ships...

Tactical: How?

DarkElf: Trust me...there isn't much time...GO!!!

Tactical: Aye, sir. You'd better come back alive!

*they all scurry for their escape pods*

DarkElf: *to himself* Hondo, why turn your back on the Federation, why?! What is going on here.

*Another barrage of weapons fire hits the ship, and he can hear the hull start to buckle*

Computer, have all the escape pods been jettisoned?

Computer: Aff...irm...a..t...*static*

DarkElf: I'll take that as a yes. I don't have much time. *He sits down and concentrates*

The Dragon Slave...being an elf, he had an innate abilty to use magic that noone else had. It would give Thrain time to pick up the escape pods and destroy the attacking ships. But at a severe cost...he would most likely not escape the blast unscathed. But he had to try...

He started to chant the spell:

DarkElf: Darkness beyond twilight...

*another set of explosions push him to the floor, but he continues the chant*

DarkElf:...crimson beyond blood that flows.
In the stream of time is where your power grows.
I call myself to conquer all the foes who stand

*A bigger set of explosions, and the he can feel the ship literately start to break apart, but he keeps on with the spell, even though he is gravely injured.*

DarkElf:....Upon the mighty gift bestowed in my unworthy hand! DRAGON SLAVE!!!

*he then makes an unknown gesture just seconds before the ship starts to explode*

<<<USS Jesse James, about a minute earlier>>>

Thrain: Is that all the escape pods.

Science: Yes.

*The Jesse James takes a direct hit to to the saucer section*

Tactical: Shields down to 23%!

Thrain: Get us out...

Science: The Intelligece's warp core is breeching! Oh my god....A level 10 shockwave!

NOTE: A level ten shockwave can be compared to a sun going supernova...

Thrain: Helm, maximum warp! Engage!

*The Jesse James escapes the blast while the bridge crew can only watch in horror as the Intelligence is vaporized.*

Science: The enemy ships have vanished without a trace. And the shockwave has dissapated.

Thrain: What of Captain DarkElf?

Tactical: His first officer reports he was stayed aboard.

Thrain: computer, locate Captain DarkElf.

Computer: Captain Darkelf is not on board.

Thrain; DAMNIT TO HELL! He didn't make it...

*all of a sudden a flash of light appears on the bridge, leaving DarkElf in its place after it fades away*

DarkElf: Ugh. *He collapses uncouncious on the floor, his body looks like it has been beaten on for hours*

Thrain: Sickbay, medical emergency!


[This message has been edited by DarkElf (edited 12-19-2001).]

 

[Gook]

Drake
Ensign   posted 12-19-2001 04:42 AM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Galactic News
'Today 4 ISC naval officers were released by the Hydran Kingdom. The officers were marooned on a class M planet ever since the start of the ISC pasification war. The Hydran spokesperson stated that there was no reason to hold the men beings for extended questioning as the war was over. The ISC had no comment at this time.

IP: Logged
 
Hondo_8
Ensign   posted 12-19-2001 07:13 AM             
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
?Captain warp drive is down, running on Impulse power only, Hull breach decks 21 and 14, phaser banks depleted and starboard torpedo tubes damaged.? Smoke billows out from the bridge, causing the crew to cough, as they rush around repairing damage. Captain Hondo stares at his over turned hot tub. ? Dam it Dam it Dam it! That guy is a siko, my hot tub ruined?Nurse mix me a stiff drink, and wait make it four stiff drinks.? Captain Hondo paces the deck waiting for his drink. ? Alright this is what we are going to do listen up crew.?

A few hours later the Damaged USS Love Machine is making for the Klingon Home World at warp five.

? Ya know Frank I bet Scotty never thought of this one I mean I know the Captain is Insane but this is just geniuses.? The two Engineers stand down where the warp coil use to be and in its place know is a huge hamsters cage, with four giant wheels being powered by what looks to be eight fuzzy Hamsters with little itty bitty reindeer antlers super glued to there heads. ?Willie I can?t believe this actually works ya know what I mean?seeing stuff like this just makes a man want to drink?. Willie nods as he pokes a hamster with a stick?. ?Engineering this is the Bridge we just lost 14% of our power?our the Hamsters O.K?? Frank grins and responds ? Naw Willie is poking the Hamsters again with his stick. Willie cut that out you siko before P.E.T.A. comes and shuts us down.?


In a dark room with a roaring fire, Captain Hondo sits in his leather chair staring into the fires. ? Hoooonnndooo?..HHHHOOONNDDOO??? Hondo whips his head around looking for ghostly voice calling out his name. ? Whose there?!! Show your self or prepare to get swatted? Hondo reaches down for his fly swatter. ? H?.Ondo? Hondo looks up at the ceiling seeing an Unknown figure floating down landing in front of him. ? Who are you?? cries out Hondo as he tries to swat the Unknown back. ? I am the Ghost of Christmas past? Hondo stares at the Ghost ? You were the one on my bridge during the battle weren?t you?? The Ghost chuckles ?No that was the Ghost of Christmas present? Hondo shakes his head ? I didn?t get any presents thought, just a smashed up ship and a broken Hot tub.? The Ghost chuckles and shrugs his shoulders. ? He only was there to show you your present which now is your past and is why I am here.? Hondo shakes his head not knowing what the hell is going on. ? So he was here to show me my present, and now you?re here cause it is in my past.? The Ghost chuckles ? I can see you are confused by this and so I shall let it rest we have a busy night tonight We must prepare to get ready to delver your presents to all the naughty Klingons.? Hondo shakes his head. ? You?re going to help me with my plans? Why?? The ghost chuckles ? Because every time me or one of my fellow ghost appear to a stingy Klingon to spread Christmas cheer they always yell Blak Tack Up snot or something silly and then try to slice us with funny looking swords or tries to shoot holes in us with strange lights, personally I?m a little sick of there Christmas sprite and think they need an attitude adjustment. And your plan is perfect.? Hondo shakes his head not knowing what to make of all this and thinks ? I need to at least wait till mid morning to start drinking? Hondo grins at that Ghost as he pushes his comm. Link ? Transporter room this is the Captain I have guest with me who wants to see the void of space up close and personal? Hondo grins at the Ghost as a the transporter beams it in the void of space. Hondo peers from his porthole to see the implosion of the ghost give of a nice twinkling of lights. ? Tis the season for Klingon beatings la lalalalallallllaaa,? Hondo humms the rest of the tune as he heads for his wardrobe and begins dressing in his red pants red jacket, stuffing a few pillows up under it, and glues on his a big white beard. ? Ho Ho Ho , Merry Christmas?..and you Fluffy Bunny have you been a good little Klingon?? The comm. Channel opens ? Sir the packages are all wrapped and we are twelve hours away from the Klingon Home World.? Hondo chuckles merrily? ? Ho Ho Ho?contact our ISC friend and tell them to meet us after the delivery and have them bring us spare parts.? Hondo grins as he pulls out a large red sack and leaves his quarters.


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J'inn
Ensign   posted 12-19-2001 07:31 AM                 
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Psst. Hey, you guys in the audience. Yeah both of you! I'm starting to get a tad worried about Hondo. I mean even with the assistance of a fifth of tequila and various prescription narcotics I would have never come up with Hampster Star Drive. I'm a little scared now. Please someone call for help. Quick!
J'inn

Kirk: Scotty I need more power!
Scotty: Sir, the hampsters are running as fast as they can! Their wee little feet canna take much more!
Kirk: I need more power!
Scotty: You heard the man crewman, break out the squirrel!

Hah! I crack me up!

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Julin Eurthyr
Ensign   posted 12-19-2001 10:30 AM                 
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Flag ready room, ISCS Little Paradise
Sitting in his unscathed ship, Julin surveys the results of the battle.
The USS Love Machine is in Klingon space, heavily damaged. One of the pursuers are destroyed, shattered by the "Plasmatic Polka Device", the other ship has collected the survivors and escorted them home.
It seems that, on this front, everything is still under control, some damage control needs to be performed, but otherwise, the plan here is still on course.
Varkin enters the room, with the exact damage reports for both the Little Paradise and the Love Machine. He also has the latest intel news.
"What's this??!" Julin bellows, "The best scout ship in the entire navy has lost track of one measily Polar Mirak Android in the middle of methane-breathing space? Somebody's head is going to roll on that!"
"Admiral, calm down. We always known that J'inn is a very elusive chap, whether he's a replica droid or the real thing."
"Yeah, Varkin, and that's the part I was counting on. Him escaping into my hands." A deep breath (and a sigh) later, Julin continues, "Well, that plan will have to be instigated another way. Well, at least the trip to Hydran space wasn't a complete waste, detail the task force to pick up those recently released Concordian POW's, oops sorry, marooned troops, and have them thank the Hydran Kingdom immensely for their cooperation."
Meanwhile, in the Miraki Intelligence Offices...
"The Admiral will be most pleased with these developments, won't he my sweet?"
"Lay off the language frog, or my husband will demote you to tadpole last class faster than you could be born."
"Sorry, Commander, I meant no disrespect. Just these recent changes to our virus will make it so we can follow through on the Admiral's true plan for them. Finally, something that is inter-species compatable, soon, the pacification of the galaxy can commence again!" The Meeskeen commander is almost jumping for joy at this point, his tounge flailing throughout the air.
At this point, "Julin 2", one of Julin's other bodies, enters the office.
"So, what do we have here? I thought the feeding frenzy was scheduled for the rec. deck at 1900."
"Admiral! We have a solution to our problem! With your lovely officer's..."
Julin interrupts with a glaring stare, "My wife's..."
Picking up, a little less upbeat, the Meeskeen commander continues, "... assistance, we have developed a virus that will affect all racial stocks identically, we can pacify at will!"
Julin picks up the results of the testing on the latest strain of "pacification virus", and grins. "Commander, thank you for your assistance in this matter. Report to the flag ready room to speak about the commendations you shall receive for your assistance in this matter."
The Meeskeen commander practically jumps for joy as he leaves the intel office, on his way to the turbolift.
Julin leans down next to his wife, and whispers in her ear, seductively, "Soon hun, you will have your wish."
"Yeah love, I will. But what about delivering this? We've lost track of the J'inn droid..."
Continuing in his seductive tone, "Well, that's a matter I'll answer shortly. However, for now, I don't see any problems would occur if we took the night off..."
"But finding the droid..."
"Is next to impossible. Anyway, I think at this time, it's another offices job to do that, not yours. The place won't crash down if we were to..."
Finally catching Julin's message, Annlova, her voice much different this time, more, accepting "... Test the effects of 'Catnip'? Certainly. Tonight it is."

Flash back to the Flag Ready Room
The Meeskeen Commander enters. "I was told to come up here and talk about commendations for my work?"
Julin suppresses a smile. "Yes, Captain, I did. Please come closer to the desk, so I can see exactly where I'll place the medal..."
The commander steps up, right onto a certain patch of carpet right in front of the desk.
"So, Captain, I need a size, 5..." Julin presses a button on his desk. The carpet springs up, and the Meeskeen commander is instantly spaced, through a special force field in the ceiling. "ejection chamber. Your services are actually no longer required, and the extent of your knowledge in this matter is too deep." Julin then presses a button on his panel, and announces, "There is a small target above the ship. I want it eradicated, no traces. Weapons of choice."
Varkin then speaks up, "Admiral, we have forgotten about the USS Love Machine."
"No we haven't." The ship pulses from the firing of the PPD. Julin continues without missing a beat, "Have us catch up to the Love Machine, and tell our engineers to prepare the 'Jello repair system', adjusted for Federation design. We have to help our 'comrade' complete his deliveries."

And so, a scant few hours later, the USS Love Machine is repaired, and the Jello Nacelles are handling the power properly, allowing the completion of the mission...

------------------
Julin Eurthyr, Admiral
Commander, 673rd Echelon
Commander, ISCS Little Paradise

"It's the suede denim secret police. They've come for your uncool niece."
Last words heard from the hru'hfe at the beginning of a Tal'shiar raid of the house

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DarkElf
Ensign   posted 12-19-2001 12:07 PM                 
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<<Sickbay>>
It had been days since the incident. DarkElf was still in a coma. His crew was worried, but there was nothing they could do but wait...

They had been on a course back to Starbase 24, to report on everything that had happened. And to receive new orders.

*Thrain walks in*

Thrain: Any change in his condition?

Doctor: No sir. He is still in a coma. It's a miracle he even survived.

Thrain: I would still like to know how he did that... Let me know if his status changes.

DarkEkf: You...don't have to...

Thrain: Your awake!

DarkElf: How...long?

Thrain: You've been laying on a bed for six days. We thought you died on the bridge.

DarkElf: I...was amazed...myself...

Thrain: We are en route to Starbase 24. We have been given some shore leave.

Doctor: He needs to rest.

Thrain: We will talk about this later.

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Hondo_8
Ensign   posted 12-19-2001 02:15 PM             
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Aboard the repaired USS Love Machine, all her little elves are in working in a frantic pace, to prepare for the Christmas delivery.
?Can you believe this crap Jane, I mean he has gone to far with making us wear these pointy shoes.? Jane giggles at Greg. ? Ahh but you look so cute as an Elf?. perhaps later tonight we can sneak in to the trampoline room.? Greg grins and nods his heads as he installs the latest transporter pad.


Else where on the ship??? ? Captain the last planetary defense codes have been entered and we are ready for orbit.? Hondo beams with delight as he hefts his sack and heads for the first transporter room. ? Ho Ho Ho Christmas is coming early cause I could never wait to open my presents,,,,,,Hey hey I?m happy I got sunshine in my bag I?m useless ..Not for long the future is coming on coming on?..Hey I?m sad but not for long I got sunshine in a bag?.? Hondo gets on his hover lift and mushes his eight hamsters on ward to the transporters to deliver Christmas cheer.


All was quite on the Klingon Home world not even an evil Romulan agent was stirring. All the Klingon were tucked in their beds with visions of J?inns heads dancing around. And then who should appear? But good ol jolly St Nick..er mean a transporter beam in red leaving gifts for all the Klingons warriors in their bunks. And a special guest in their TV ministry studio.


With a rush the Klingons awoke to find pretty wrapped gifts under there phasers. With a shout of surprise they rushed to unwrapped there gifts finding sewing kits, cook books, Interior decorations along with Ideas, and not in the least but a special card wishing them all a good life, and to be sure to turn on there TV to watch the state run show.

Well out much of a clatter TV?s around the Home word flickered on and who should appear? But Martha Stewart dressed in Holiday cheer. With shouts of joy the Klingons watched fascinated with her knowledge, soon not one Klingon was left with nothing to do?quickly they got there gifts and begin sewing pretty lace into their uniforms, wile others ran around the room in disgrace at the conditions of there Spartan homes and listened to Martha and set to work on making those frilly curtains.

Let us peek in to a Klingon?s home and let us see what he is up too. Why look at this is none other then JM, yes JM the captain of the Mighty Home World Humper?and what is that he is making?.my he is pasting Macaroni and beans to a card board in the shape of Chancellor Kor.

Look at all the creative fun the Klingons are having. Martha Stewart is a dream come true. What is she doing now? It looks like she is telling us how to spruce up our Klingon battle ships with dried flowers hanging from the bridge and those lovely curtains with the little balls hanging on the ends.

What?s this o my its Fluffy Bunny and it seems he has a sponge and paint. Where do you think he is going? Why he is going to the Imperial Chambers where Kor holds court. Let us listen in. ? Kor I?ve been thinking and you know what..I think its time we spruced this place up. I just saw Martha sponge an entire wall with this wonderful sky blue and misty purple color and I thought we could do the same here?and perhaps re do the tiles on the floor in the shape of little bunny?s It would be very cute? Kor just stands there? ? Smart..S M A R T?? He grins and grabs a sponge.

Twelve hours have passed since Martha Stewart began broadcasting. And many Klingons rush to find that perfect end table to go with their refurbished couch.


?Get that damn door down we have got to stop this non sense? Shouts an inflamed Klingon commander. A large group of Klingon warriors stand ready to rush the door down at their leaders signal. ? Now Dogmatix screams?? With a rush the studio doors are blown apart and the warriors rush in to face Martha Stewart. ? O joy we have studio guest, how would you all like to finger paint with us today? Martha beams a smile and the hardened Klingon warriors begin to weaken and one actual asks for paper. ? Enough of this nonsense? Dogamatix pulls out his phasers. ? Well friends it seems one of us here is a little cranky? Martha looks at Dogmatix ? What did you get for Christmas?? Dogmatix finger itches to pull the trigger but her smile is so beautiful ? I got a book of Paper dolls? Martha smiles ? Great I love paper dolls, let you and I make some. Are you allowed to use the pointy scissors Dogmatix?? Dogmatix puts his phasers away and shakes his head no. ?Squiggly caught me running with scissors yester day so I can only use the rounded ones? Martha smiles and beckon Dogmatix to sit beside her and hands him a the rounded scissors then pats him on the head when he sits down.

Who is going to stop this madness???? Will Martha become a Klingon Heroin? Will Dogmatix be able to use pointed scissors again? Stay tuned next week the same bat channel the same bat time??

The USS Love Machine warps out from Klingon space heading to unknown ways.

Welcome Back Bat fans??..

Gow leads a shock a troop of Hearing impaired Klingons to the studio to where they see..A bunch of Klingons being led by Dogamtixe playing dress up. Wasting no time at all Gow fires at Martha Stewart, triggering her self-destruct sequence. ? O my it seems I?m not wanted any more and just when the Brownies were almost all done.? She smiles sweetly at Gow who is drooling over the mention of Brownies and is questioning what he has done. A sudden blast rocks the Klingon studio kilingon many of the Klingons in the Area. A blast of polka music follows through. Gow shakes his head and stares down at a still breathing Dogmatix dressed up as Little Miss Muffit. Gow shakes his head, grabs Dogmatix and limps off to now and try to reverse this Martha Stewart plague.


Else where in the Klingon Capital two ISC diplomats shake there head at the disbelief of their miss judgment of there Klingon Allies as fierce warriors, but now see them as domesticated busy bodies buying and making frilly things for there uniforms.


 

[Gook]

Oooops sorry about some double post in there, not sure how it happened, but I'm sure you can work it out