From: Paula Kirman 

DEEP SPACE CADETS
By The Silicon Samurai
In Edmonton, Alberta, Canada
Completed and Copyright (c) May 12, 1994!

Prologue

	"Station log, Stardate 48000.0.  In the last week, we have 
averted the collapse of the provisional government of Bajor, fought 
off a rogue Hardassian cargo ship, and lived through yet another 
plague that threatened all our lives.  In short, life has been 
relatively peaceful for us on the station.  But I have just received 
word from Starfleet Command that the good times are over.  They 
have arranged to send us a new menace from the demilitarized 
zone between the Federation and Hardassian border:  former Space 
Cadet Wesley Crusher, who I am advised has begun to evolve to a 
higher plane of existence.  Our orders are simple - 'make nice to 
the brat,' to quote Admiral Heechi-Hoochi.  Wesley will arrive 
presently.  Cisco out."

	Commander San Fran Cisco stands at Ops, staring out the 
viewscreen.
	"You look troubled, San," says Zsa-Zsa Fax, half slug, half 
woman, and all business.
	"I'm waiting for Wesley to set foot on my station," says 
Cisco.  "As if that were not enough to turn my hair gray, now that 
the Next Generation is over, I'm afraid the brat will take up 
permanent residence here."
	"Come on, Commander," says Doctor Julio Mashir, 
prancing around Ops, contemplating just how slender he is.  "So 
this Wesley is young, arrogant, and irritating.  I find those traits 
rather...endearing."
	"You would," snorts Odious, the shapeshifting chief of 
Security.
	"You haven't had to work with it...er, him," says Chief 
Kilometres O'Brawn to Julio.  "Back on the Enterprise, I had to put 
up with the brat for years.  Gets under your skin, that one does."
	"Mein Fuhrer!" proclaims Bajor Major Quira.  "I most 
respectfully beg to report that Wesley's ship, the Antares, will dock 
within ten minutes."
	"Then I'll go meet him," says Cisco smoothly.  "Julio, since 
you expect to like him so much, you can come too.  And O'Brawn, 
he knows you, so I'd like you to accompany us."
	"You're the commanding officer.  Haggis!" says O'Brawn.
	As the three walk out of Ops, Fax turns to Quira.  "I hope 
they'll let me dissect whatever remains of Wesley after they're 
through with him."

Act I:  He Is Come Amongst Us

	Wesley Crusher steps onto the station.
	"Welcome," says Commander Cisco, fighting a sudden rush 
of nausea at seeing Wesley.  "I am - "
	"Commander San Fran Cisco," says Wesley with a knowing 
smirk.
	"How did you know I was - "
	"For one, I represent the next step of human evolution.  I 
am beginning to leave this plane of existence."
	"Good riddance," mutters O'Brawn.
	"I heard that," says Wesley.  "And secondly, Commander, 
you're the only Black person on the station, not counting your son.  
It had to be you."
	"I like this fellow's candour," muses Julio Mashir.
	"Would you like to come with us to the Promenade to 
unwind?" asks Cisco, grateful he has not eaten anything in the last 
few hours.
	"Sure," says Wesley, putting his arm around the nauseous 
Cisco.  "You're nice, Commander.  Not like the Captain of the 
Antares."

* * *

	"What'll it be?" asks Snark the bartender and proprietor of 
the Promenade.
	"Chocolate milk," says Space Brat Wesley.
	"Scotch on the rocks," says O'Brawn.
	"Saurian Brandy," says Julio.
	"Gravol," says Cisco.
	As Snark scurries away to get the drinks, Wesley takes a 
little tour of the Promenade.  He comes back to the table with a 
deck of cards.
	"I can do card tricks," he explains.  He spreads out the 
cards face-up to show that they're a normal deck, then lays out five 
cards, face down.  "Pick one, O'Brawn, old buddy."

	"This is stupid," says O'Brawn.  "Let me explain you 
something, Wes.  This isn't the Next Generation, where everyone 
automatically liked each other.  This is Deep Space Nine, where 
we are prone to hating each other's guts.  And I hate yours.  

Simple."
	"You're not being very nice, Mr. O'Brawn," says Wesley.
	"Here, let me pick a card," says Julio.  He lifts up one card 
and turns it over.  It has a nude picture of O'Brawn on it in a 
compromising position.
	"Hey, how'd you do that?" demands O'Brawn.
	Cisco guzzles his Gravol once it comes.  He turns over the 
other four cards, and finds they're all nudes of O'Brawn in various 
embarassing positions.
	"Explain this!" orders Cisco, suddenly becoming angry.
	"He wasn't...nice to me," says Wesley.
	Cisco's communicator badge bleeps.  "This is Zsa-Zsa," 
comes Fax's voice.  "Commander, long-range sensors indicate that 
the Antares just exploded from a ruptured baffle plate."
	"They weren't nice to me, either," mutters Wesley.
	"Saint Andrew preserve us," gasps O'Brawn, his eyes 
lighting up with a realization.  "Gotta go.  Bye!"
	"It's good that O'Brawn left," proclaims Wesley.  "That 

means I don't have to make him go away myself."

* * *

	O'Brawn meets Snark in a dark corner of the Promenade.  
"We've got to get rid of Wesley before he kills us all!  I've seen the 
original Star Trek.  I know what's about to happen."
	Snark nods.  "How about turning on every system on the 
station?  He won't be able to control it all, if I know my Star Trek."
	"What systems?  We have a computer, a replicator, and a 
viewscreen on this primitive Hardassian piece of garbage."
	"Then I have just the thing for you," says Snark, reaching 
into a pocket.  "For a reasonable - very fair, very reasonable price, I 
can give it to you."  He withdraws a metallic globe no more than 
two inches in diameter.  "I call it the Wesley crusher.  Cute name, 
no?"
	"It will crush Crusher?" asks O'Brawn.
	Snark nods.  "This is a generator of a hard-light hologram.  
They're practically indestructable.  Just what you need to stand up 
to an omnipotent entity like the space brat.  My price is merely 
three bars of gold-pressed latinum."
	"Does it come with a money-back guarantee if it doesn't 
work, or if Wesley winds up killing me for trying to bump him 
off?"
	"At my low price, it's practically a gift," says Snark, "and 
the 222nd Rule of Acquisition states that we should not look a gift 
hardlight hologram designed to kill off a space-brat in the mouth."
	"You just made that up!" O'Brawn protests.
	"Of course - " Snark looks around and continues in a 
whisper.  "Of course I just made it up.  I make up all the Rules of 
Acquisition as I go along!  I figure, with 285 of them, at one per 
episode, I should be OK until the end of the series."
	The transaction is completed.  Snark hands O'Brawn the 
hardlight hologram.  "Just throw it into the air and the hologram 
will immediately materialize.  Don't waste the charge - save it until 
you need it."
	"On behalf of myself, and of all Trek fans who want the 
brat dead, it had better work," says O'Brawn.  "Remember that to 
kill you, I can simply use my bare hands."
	"Pleasure doing business with you too," smiles Snark.

Act II:  The Inner Blight

	"Security Officer's Log, Stardate 48003.3, Chief of Security 
Odious recording.  More than three days have passed since the 
omnipotent young Mr. Crusher came to be among us.  In spite of 
our well-grounded paranoia about our guest, he has caused no 
problems except for mass nausea.  On a more personal level, I 
have been evaluating Mr. Crusher from my perspective in this 
series as resident outsider of the human race.  He is entirely 
irritating and unbelievable as any sort of genius, and is thoroughly 
unlikable.  It had, up until this point, been my understanding that 
Star Trek showed an optimistic future for humanity.  I must have 
been mistaken, for if Mr. Crusher is the next step 'up' the 
evolutionary ladder for humans, this is a dark future indeed."

	"One!  Two!  Three!"  Quira marches around Ops, trying to 
keep in top military form.  "Forward march!"  She shifts a 
pantomime laser pistol from one shoulder to the other.
	"It's a slow day," Zsa-Zsa explains to Cisco as he walks into 
Ops from his office.
	Unbeknownst to the denizens of Ops, Cisco's son Joke, and 
his Ferengi friend Noggin, are watching Quira and Fax from 
behind some loose pipes.
	"As my Uncle Snark says, I love a woman in uniform!" 
proclaims Noggin quietly of the marching Quira.
	Joke, drooling over Fax's body, nods.
	"Incoming communication," says Fax.  "I'm afraid it's pretty 
grim, San.  A whole shipload of Cadets has been lost beyond the 
wormhole.  Starfleet has reason to suspect that it was destroyed by 
forces unknown."
	Cisco lowers his eyes.  "May they rest in peace."  He raises 
his head.  "On the brighter side, there are too many Starfleet 
officers competing for too few jobs.  This will make competition 
less intense for the rest of us."
	The Wormhole, on the main viewscreen, suddenly lights up 
as a small object comes out of it.
	"What is that?" asks Cisco.  "It's too small to be a ship."
	"I'm not getting any life readings," says Fax.  "I think it's a 
probe of some kind."
	The probe approaches the station and stops.  A beam comes 
from it straight at the station.
	"Raise shields!" says Cisco.
	"Don't have any," says O'Brawn.  "But I did put up the 
storm windows last week."
	"One!  Two!  Three!  ARGH!" proclaims Quira, falling to 
the floor, face up, veins pulsing in her forehead.
	"Fax!  Doctor Mashir, to Ops!"  Cisco bounds over to 
Quira.
	Fax scans Quira.  "Neurotransmitters are increasing 
exponentially!"
	"Brain activity?" demands Cisco.
	"This is odd," says Fax.  "I'm actually getting some from 
her."
	Julio bounds out of the elevator.  "There's no need to fear!  
Julio is here!"
	"Shut up and help!" says Fax.  "She's under the influence of 
an alien probe."
	"Then keep her away from the steering controls of the 
station.  We don't want her to be picked up for driving while under 
the influence!  God, I'm witty today!"

* * *

	After a half-hour, the probe mysteriously stops its beam.  
Quira gets up, trembling and shaking.
	"Major, are you all right?" asks Cisco.
	"San?  San!" says Quira, hugging her commanding officer 
and covering him with kisses.
	"As I feared, brain damage," says Julio.
	"I haven't seen any of you in forty years," sobs Quira.
	"What exactly did you experience?" asks Fax.
	"I got a message from Kai Alpaca, the Bajoran spiritual 
leader lost beyond the Wormhole.  She appeared to me.  And she 
was with a whole bunch of Starfleet Cadets.  She said something to 
me too...something about coming to get her.  Oh yes.  She said, if 
we came to be with her, the Prophets would smile upon us.  Yes, 
I'm sure that's what she said.  It was a bit muddled."
	"What about the other forty years?" asks Julio.
	Quira gets up and begins to move in provocative ways.  "I 
was an Arcturian Bellydancer!"
	Joke and Noggin drool profusely.  "I must tell my Uncle!" 
says Noggin.

* * *

	"So the message," says Snark, "was that if they went to 
rescue Kai Alpaca and the space cadets, the profits would smile 
upon them?"
	Noggin nods.
	"Good lad.  I must see to it that I'm on their ship when they 
leave."  Snark touches Noggin's ears.  "You've got the lobes to be a 
great businessman some day!"

* * *

	Odious, the shape-shifting Chief of Security, arrives at Ops.  
"What's this about alien probes zapping our people?"
	"You're always one step ahead of us, Constable," snorts 
Julio.
	"We retrieved this from the probe," says O'Brawn, holding 
out a tassel.  "Major, do you recognize it?"
	She grabs it and holds it lovingly.  "It's all I have left of my 
previous life."  She fastens it to the bellybutton area of her 
uniform.
	"Commander," says O'Brawn, "we have reason to suspect 
that the projection mechanism in the probe was slightly damaged 
by its passage through the wormhole."
	"No," says Cisco in mock shock as Quira dances madly 
around Ops.
	"I think what Chief O'Brawn is trying to ask you," says 
Odious, "is whether you should risk taking a Runabout through the 
wormhole to track down cadets whom I am advised Starfleet 
believes lost, simply on the say-so of Bajor Major Quira and the 
probe."
	"We need corroborating evidence," muses Cisco.
	"Incoming communication," says Fax.
	"Never have to wait long in this series," says Cisco.  "On 
screen, Lieutenant!"
	The menacing image of Gul DoRot, the former Hardassian 
commander of the station, fills the viewscreen.  Space Brat Wesley 
comes into Ops.
	"What do you want, Gul DoRot?" demands Cisco, his 
nostrils flaring for the occasion.
	"And a hearty good day to you too, Commander," smiles 
the scaly pale one.  "I understand there has been an unfortunate 
incident beyond the wormhole."
	"He's fishing for information," says Odious.  "Don't give 
him any."

	"Your cadets are marooned beyond the wormhole.  Not 
dead," states Gul DoRot.
	"If you know that much, then where are they?" demands 
Cisco.
	"Let's say...if the human maxim that 'I regret that I have but 
one life to give to my country' is true, they are in a place where 
they lack this regret,"  Gul DoRot smirks.
	"Haggis!" says O'Brawn.  "Can you never give a straight 
answer?"
	"They like to hide behind the riddles in which they speak," 
says Odious.  "They don't have the backbone to come out and say 
what they mean."
	"Excuse me, Odious," says Gul DoRot, "but Hardassians 
appear to have several vertebral columns - as opposed to the 
human one, and your lack of any spine whatsoever.  The reason for 
our circuituous speech is simply we like to torment you."
	"You're scum!" proclaims Wesley.  "Treacherous slime!"
	"What?" demands Gul DoRot.  "Don't speak to me in that 
tone of voice, Space Brat Wesley!  I'm a Gul!"
	"You're a gull?" asks Wesley sweetly.  "Then I'm a little 
canary bird.  Watch me tweet."
	The viewscreen goes blank.
	"Thank you," says Cisco, whirling on Wesley, "for 
alienating Gul DoRot.  Now we'll never figure out what he meant!"
	"How do you alienate an alien?" snorts Wesley smugly.  
"Gosh and golly gumdrops, Commander, but you're obviously 
dumber than I thought.  What planet was Kai Alpaca marooned 
on?"
	"A moon, where people kept dying...and returning to life," 
says Fax.
	"Adding up all the clues, I'd say the cadets crashed on that 
world," Wesley concludes, his face a mask of dorky seriousness.
	Cisco pauses, torn between his desire to congratulate the 
brat and his desire to strangle Wesley's ugly neck.  Then he does 
the only sensible thing:  both.

Act III:  Death:  The Final Frontier

	"Personal log of Commander San Fran Cisco, Stardate 
48003.6.  We are taking a Runabout through the Wormhole to the 
moon where we had to leave Kai Alpaca the last time she jouneyed 
with us.  She died on that moon, and was brought back to life by a 
mysterious process that prevents permanent death.  Unfortunately, 
once you die on that world, you cannot leave it or you'll die 
permanently.  She decided to stay behind to end the warring that 
had been going on.  Accompanying me are Major Quira, 
Lieutenant Fax, Doctor Mashir, and Chief O'Brawn.  Oh yes, Space 
Brat Wesley is also coming along.  It would be a shame - yes, truly 
it would - if he died on that very, very, very dangerous moon and 
had to stay there for the rest of all eternity.  I sure hope that doesn't 
happen.  Really."

	"It's called a Wesley crusher," whispers Chief O'Brawn in 
the runabout to Cisco.  "Snark sold it to me."
	"Hmmm," says Cisco.  "You'd better be careful not 
to...er...accidentally release it once we get to the planet.  We 
wouldn't want Wesley marooned there for all time.  Now would 
we?"
	Cisco and O'Brawn chortle diabolically.
	"Gosh and golly gumdrops!" proclaims Wesley.  "It's so 
beautiful here in the Wormhole!"
	"Would you like to stay?" asks Fax.
	"It can be arranged," says Cisco.
	"Leave him alone!" says Julio.  "Wesley is my friend.  Over 
the last three days, I've learned to like and to respect this next step 
in human evolution.  It's all right, Wes - they're just jealous of you.  
Get used to it - happens to me all the time."
	"Damn!  I forgot my Gravol!" retches Cisco.
	The Runabout comes through the Wormhole.
	"I've adapted the ship's systems so that the interference 
from the moon won't cause us to crash," explains Fax as the 
Runabout approaches the moon.  "We can just beam down and 
beam back up without problem."
	"Can I come on the away team?" begs Wesley.  "Can I 
huh?"
	Cisco puts his arm around the Space Brat.  "Of course you 
can.  Mr. O'Brawn and I really want you to see the surface of this 
moon."

* * *

	Cisco, Quira, Fax, O'Brawn, Julio and Wesley materialize 
on a bleak, barren, brown bluff.
	"How invigorating!" says Julio, breathing in the smog.
	"Be very careful not to die down here," Cisco warns his 
people.
	"Gee, Commander," says Wesley, "that's the most idiotic 
thing I've ever heard.  Can you think of any missions where you 
didn't have to be careful not to die?"
	"Do not insult the Fuhrer!" proclaims Major Quira.
	Suddenly, spears fly out of the air at the group.
	"Looks like Kai Alpaca was less than successful here," says 
O'Brawn, dodging spears.  He dances and prances and leaps.  In 
one especially bizarre bodily twist, partly inspired by Major Quira's 
incredible bellydance routine keeping the spears from hitting her, 
the Wesley crusher hardlight hologram generator goes flying from 
his pocket.  It rests in midair, and the image of a man materializes.
	"Where am I?" asks the image, a large H on his forehead.
	At the same time, a shrill voice from somewhere yells out 
"Stop the attack!"
	The spears stop flying.  From the mist comes Kai Alpaca.
	"Alpaca!" says Cisco.  "Were you behind the attack?"
	"Of course not, Commander," says the Kai.  "A number of 
the space cadets who crashed here took it upon themselves to 
attack you when you appeared."
	"Awfully nervy of them," comments Julio.
	"They were not trying to hit you, Doctor Mashir," says 
Alpaca.  "They were trying to hit the one called Space Cadet 
Wesley."
	"That's former Space Cadet," snorts Wesley.
	"Depends how you define the term," O'Brawn mumbles.
	"I quit the Academy when I realized I was evolving to a 
higher plane of existence.  I am rapidly becoming omnipotent.  I 
can do anything."
	"Except for keeping your obnoxious mouth closed," Quira 
declares as she kneels before Kai Alpaca's dirty feet and starts to 
kiss them.  "Oh, it's so good to see you again, Kai Alpaca.  I got 
your message."
	"You did not, or you would not be here on this blighted 
world, child," says the Kai.  "Please stop kissing my feet - you're 
tickling me.  Thank you.  I feared you would come looking for the 
Space Cadets and would track them here, so I sent a message 
telling you not to come."
	"But you said the prophets would smile upon us for coming 
here!" protests Quira.
	"The message said the prophets would laugh at you for 
coming here," Alpaca gently corrects.
	"Oops," says Quira, beginning to sob.  "Please don't think 
badly of me, Alpaca.  Sniff!  I suppose the lifetime as a 
bellydancer was also a mistake!"
	"No, that was intentional," says Alpaca.  "Mostly because it 
was free - I took advantage of a two-for-one deal, and you do need 
to lighten up, my child."
	"Excuse me," says the hardlight hologram.  "Where am I?"
	"Who are you?" asks Wesley derisively.
	"Arnold J. Rimmer's the name, laddy.  Space Corps officer 
extraordinaire from the mining ship Red Dwarf!"  The hologram 
speaks in a British accent.  "God, it's so good to get away from that 
space-slob Lister!"
	"Mr. Rimmer," intones Cisco, "this is former Space Cadet 
Wesley Crusher."
	"Ah, Mr. Crusher!" says Rimmer.  "Snark told me about 
you.  You're a knob and a dweeb, an egotistical fool that nobody 
likes.  In short, you're even more of a smeg-head than I.  I can't 
have you muscling in on my image - not that you have any muscles 
- and so I'll have to bump you off.  Funny," Rimmer pauses.
	"What?" asks O'Brawn.  "Kill the brat!"
	"I seem to have lost my cowardace," says Rimmer.  "I feel 
able to kill!  Who accomplished this miracle?"
	"I did," says O'Brawn.  "Had to reprogram you extensively.  
Wasn't about to trust that Snark would sell me something that 
wasn't defective in some way."
	"And this hardlight hologram is obviously quite defective," 
snorts Wesley.  "Unlike myself - ACK!"
	As Rimmer grabs Wesley's ugly neck in a crushing 
strangle-hold, the marooned space cadets come to watch the 
spectacle.
	"While they're occupied, Alpaca," says Cisco, "perhaps you 
can bring us up to date on what has been happening on this 
benighted moon."
	"There is an uneasy peace here, Commander," says Alpaca.  
"I have healed much of the anger of the natives, but many tensions 
remain.  And no headway has been made in curing the curse that 
traps us all here."
	"What about the cadets?" asks Julio.  "Can they leave if we 
send enough ships to evacuate them?"
	"Alas, they all died on impact after being shot out of the 
sky by a mysterious and evil spacecraft," says Alpaca.  "They, like 
myself and the inhabitants, are trapped here.  And also like young 
Mr. Crusher, it would seem."
	Wesley, unable to pry Rimmer's hardlight fingers off his 
neck, turns blue all over and dies.
	Quira cheers, then feels something wet on one of her ears.  
"Julio, knock it off!" she protests.
	"I'm nowhere near your ear," says Julio, weeping for his 
friend Wesley.
	"Then what?" asks Quira.  "Hey, one of my earings is 
melting!"
	"Since when do you wear two earings?" asks Fax.
	"Since," says the earing, running off Quira's ear and 
forming into the shape of Odious, "I decided to tag along."
	Wesley, groaning, gets up.  Before he can gather two 
breaths, Rimmer chokes him to death once again.
	"This is fun!" says Rimmer.  "Mr. O'Brawn, will my 
cowardace return?"
	"I think so," says Kilometres.  "It was so deeply ingrained 
into your cybernetic personality matrix that I couldn't get it all 
out."
	Wesley comes back to life again, and the cadets groan.
	"Now I am trapped here on this world!" screams Wesley.  
"I'll not have this!  I'll not!"
	"How...horrible.  We can't...take him with us," chortles 
Cisco.
	"I'll...never live this down," says O'Brawn, collapsing with 
hearty laughter.
	"I AM WESLEY CRUSHER!" says Wesley.  "I, THE 
NEXT STEP IN HUMAN EVOLUTION, DECREE AND 
DECLARE THAT THIS CURSE IS OVER!"
	Thunder and lightning come from the sky.  The ground 
shakes, knocking everyone over.  There is a deafening boom, and 
then silence for a change.

* * *

	Cisco awakens on a beautiful, grassy knoll.  Birdsong fills 
the clean air and the sun shines through a lovely, blue sky.

	"Where...are we?" asks Cisco.
	"Scanning," says Fax, waking up and feeling sluggish, 
which is normal for her.  "We are on the same moon we were on 
before, San."

	Kai Alpaca wakes up.  "I feel...different.  Free."
	Julio awakens and scans Alpaca.  "Commander, her body 
chemistry is normal!"
	"What does this mean?" asks O'Brawn.
	"Well, the good news is that Alpaca can come home with 
us," says Quira, covering her Kai with kisses.
	"And the bad news?" asks Cisco.  "There's always got to be 
bad news on this series."
	"I'm cured!" says Wesley.  "I'm not trapped here any more!"
	"Haggis!" curses O'Brawn.

Act IV:  Resistance Is Futile?

	"Personal Log of Commander Cisco, Stardate 48004.7.  
News of the liberation of the moon from the curse of eternal life 
has spread rapidly among the native inhabitants.  The total change 
in the environment to a beautiful springlike world was, admittedly, 

a bit of a tip-off.  Kai Alpaca has declared a day of rest, relaxation, 
and partying, although her intuition says that something is still not 
right.  Perhaps she can predict that whoever shot down the Space 
Cadets is still out there and will return.  Or, perhaps, she is merely 
referring to Wesley, who of course has been lording his miracle 
over the rest of us, and is the very willing recipent of the gratitude 
of the natives."

	"A Bajoran squaredance?" asks Odious incredulously in the 
evening's light, looking at several dozen natives and Space Cadets 
dancing together in various strange patterns.
	"Supposed to be quite a fun experience," says Kilometres, 
holding the now-unpowered hardlight hologram generator.  "Hey, I 
can hear Kai Alpaca's Bajoran squaredance instructions if I listen 
carefully."
	The sound of music from the string quartet that Wesley 
created out of nothingness wafts through the evening air.  "Grab 
your partner by the ears / Read their Paa, their hopes, their fears /  
Swing your partner by the nose / The part that feels like an 
elephant's hose."
	"You know," says Wesley to Julio, as the two sit holding 
hands in the twilight, "these alien cultures really are starting to 
bore me."
	"You mean, how they all seem to be derivatives of Earth 
cultures?" asks Julio, contemplating his own brilliance.
	"Shows you what you know," snorts Quira, who after doing 
some bellydance routines tells some native children an old Bajoran 
story:  Gul DeLox and the Three Bajorans.
	"Bah," says Wesley, standing up.  "I'm going back to my 
offering to the festivities - standing in one place and letting people 
kiss my feet.  For I am their savior!  I am wonderful!  I am a 
genius!  I have the brains, looks, and sex appeal of - "
	"What's that in the sky?" asks Cisco, looking up at a very 
bright object that appears to be entering orbit around the moon.
	"It is trouble," says Kai Alpaca, turning white.  "My sixth 
sense tells me that they are the ones who shot down the Space 
Cadets' ship.  My intuitions tell me, Commander, that you had 
better return to your own ship.  I feel it is my...destiny to stay 
here."
	"Sixth Sense?  Intuitions?  Destiny?" asks Julio.  "I thought 
we were a scientific show."
	Kai Alpaca grabs Julio by the ear.  "Don't look a gift plot 
manipulation in the mouth, Doctor."

* * *

	"What is that ship, Old Man?" asks Cisco of Fax back in 
the cockpit of the Runabout.
	"I have a visual, San," says Fax.
	The image of a gigantic metallic tennis racket fills the 
viewscreen.  "My God!" says Bajor Major Quira, turning pale.
	"What IS it, Quira?" demands Wesley.
	"We're doomed," gasps Quira.
	"Doomed?" comes the voice of Snark from behind the 
cockpit.  "Oh dear, I knew it was a mistake to stow away!"
	"You got that right," snarls Odious.  "Major, what is that 
object?"
	"The Bajoran Borg," says Quira.  "An evil race of cyborgs 
descended from people the Borg kidnapped from Bajor years ago!"
	"What are their attributes, their weaknesses, Bajor Major?" 
demands Cisco.
	"The Bajoran Borg play tennis compulsively," says Quira.  
"Bajoran tennis, that is.  It's played with a special indestructable 
racket and an explosive ball.  If the ball hits you instead of the 
racket...BOOM."
	"And what are they doing here?" asks Cisco, nostrils 
flaring.
	"Why don't you ask them, Commander?" asks Odious.  

"They appear to be hailing us."
	The image of a cyborg with a red polka-dot headband and a 
tennis racket instead of his right arm appears on the small 
Runabout screen.
	Cisco smiles his diplomatic best.  "This is Commander San 
Fran Cisco of the Federation.  Bajoran Borg, please state your 
purpose."
	"Resistance is futile," says the Borg in a thick East 
European accent.  "We play you, we slay you."
	"Is that Arnold Schwar - " asks Wesley, who is cut off by an 
impatient wave of Cisco's nostrils.
	"We ask that you leave here in peace," says Cisco.
	The Bajoran Borg pauses.  "Nobody has ever asked us to 
leave in peace.  This challenges our programming.  We must 
cogitate - "
	"Then cogitate this, you Cyborg slime!" says Wesley.  "I am 
Wesley Crusher, future Overlord of the Universe, and you will 
leave here now or I will destroy you with the merest wave of my 
hand!"
	"THAT we understand," says the Bajoran Borg.  "We 
understand you wish to go to war with us.  Once we decimate the 
moon below, we will decimate you.  Hasta la vista, baby!"
	The tennis racket begins to shoot huge fireballs, from its 
big flat part, upon the moon's surface!
	"Wesley," says Chief O'Brawn very, very tightly, as 
everyone on the Runabout stares at Wesley with daggers in their 
eyes, "they don't give out academy awards for gross insolence or 
stupidity."
	"Well, gosh and golly gumdrops!" proclaims Wesley.  He 
looks at the viewscreen where the moon is being bombarded by 
Bajoran Borg energy balls and corrects this to "Goodness gracious 
- great balls of fire!  I mean, honestly, people, were you really 
going to trust the Borg to just go away?  How dumb can you get?"  
A repulsive look of repulsion appears on Wesley's repulsive face.
	"Please Commander," says O'Brawn, his hands twitching, 
"order me to kill him."
	"The question of who kills whom will soon be academic," 
says Odious.  "Once they finish with the moon, they'll come after 
us."
	"At least let us have the pleasure before we die, Mein 
Fuhrer - our last request," says Quira, drooling.
	"Now, now, let's not get nasty," says Snark, terrified out of 
the few wits he normally has.  "Our last moments should be spent 
in peace.  As the Ninetieth rule of acquisition states - "
	"Shut up!" says everyone else in the cockpit.
	"There won't be any deaths," proclaims Cisco as the 
Bajoran Borg ship turns toward the Runabout.  "Wesley, you 
created the problem.  Now you will solve it."
	"Why should I?" asks Wesley.  "You don't command me!  I 
don't have to follow my father's path any more!  The image in the 
sweatlodge said - "
	"Unless, of course, you really don't have the power," says 
Cisco.
	"My buddy Wesley can do anything - ulk."  Doctor Mashir 
is floored by Quira's backhand.
	The Bajoran Borg ship fires upon the Runabout!  The 
camera - er, ship - shakes and quakes and multiple fires break out.
	"One more direct hit like that and we're toasted haggis!" 
says O'Brawn.
	"They're firing again, San!" says Fax.
	"I don't know what to do!" says Wesley.
	"Some omnipotent genius," snorts Cisco.  "Now you die in 
shame!"
	"NOooo!  I need more time!" shrieks Wesley as the final 
shot hits the Runabout, blasting it to smithereens!

Act V:  De-Evolution

	Commander San Fran Cisco opens his eyes and finds 
himself on a strange starship's bridge.  He sits in what appears to 
be the Captain's chair - a large, blocky seat with a low back.  The 
color scheme on the bridge is predominantly white, with some red 
and black.  A red railing encircles the part of the bridge with the 
captain's chair and the helm console.
	You have one guess where he is.
	"I guess Wesley came through," groans Cisco, getting up.  
He looks out the main viewscreen of the original Enterprise, which 
shows a very hazy view of space.  "But where are we?"
	"Oh, my aching slug," Fax groans, getting up and going 
over to the Science console.  "Uh, San, I think the real question is 
when we are."
	"Stardate 48005.0?" guesses Cisco.
	"Stardate 4800.5 is more like it," says Fax.  "This is roughly 
a hundred years ago, San."
	"I don't see the brat here," says O'Brawn, also waking up.
	"A small miracle we can all appreciate," says Odious.
	"Hey!  That's my friend you're talking about, Constable," 
huffs Julio.
	"So we're... in the past somehow," says Cisco.  "Wesley did 
say something about needing more time.  Well, it seems he now 
has a hundred years!"
	"What's that?" asks O'Brawn.  "Commander, the music 
track got very dramatic when you said that."
	"Yes, I hear it," says Cisco.  "It's not just a cheap MIDI 
synthesizer, but an actual orchestra playing an actual tune!"
	The music swells in bursts of "Dum...da da 
dum...DUM...da da dum..."
	"Special effects budget is almost zero, San," Fax continues 

to scan the area.  "Uh, the Bajoran Borg appear to still be with us, 
Commander.  Except their ship is now really just a tennis racket 
filmed against a backdrop of stars, and there's a mysterious hand 
floating in space holding it in place."
	The music gives an especially loud "DUM...da DUM da 
DUM...da dum..." as the image of the low-budget Borg ship 
appears on the hazy main viewscreen.
	"What's this uniform I'm wearing?" asks Snark of the 
yellow tunic and black trousers he now has on.

	"Come to think of it, we're all wearing the same simple 
uniform," says Fax.  "Except that mine and Julio's shirts are blue, 
and O'Brawn's and Quira's are red.  Odious, Snark, and the 
Commander have golden tunics."
	"Velour, Mein Fuhrer!" says Quira disgustedly.  "With iron-
on decals for insignia."
	"And would you look at this communicator," says Cisco, 
flipping his open.
	"San," says Fax, "this whole area of space has reverted to 
the state it was in a hundred years ago - minimal special effects 
budget and all.  I can't tell if it's permanent."
	"Well, then," says the Commander, "I guess we should 
investigate the abilities of this ship.  I want a full reconnaissance.  
We'll confer in two hours, unless the Bajoran Borg try something 
again."
	"Dammit, San," says Julio, "I'm a doctor, not an explorer!"
	Everyone just kind of stares at Julio for a minute.  "Uh, 
sorry Commander," he says.  "Don't know what got into me."

* * *

	Odious and Cisco meet in the conference room in two 
hours.
	"These...high backed chairs..." says Cisco, "are really 
great!"
	"Commander," says Odious, "you look very pale."
	"That's...not the worst of it..." says Cisco, waving and 
pointing as he's talking.  "I...have an urge...to beam down and 
have...carnal relations...with the native women!"
	The music swells to a new crescendo.
	"And I," says Odious, "am finding I can't change shape on-
camera.  There's no more nifty morphing.  And I have an 
unspeakable urge to lay in courses on the bridge console."
	Snark walks in.  On his head is a brown mop of hair!  And 
he appears to have grown at least a foot.
	"Where's...Julio when you need him?" demands Cisco.  
"Snark...what happened?"
	"Oh, Keptin," he says in a thick Russian accent.  "Dere's 
somet'ing awful happening to me.  My earlobes are shrinking!"
	Cisco goes over to the intercom.  "Doctor Mashir to the 
conference room on the double!  And...the same for Lieutenant 
Fax!"  Cisco spins around dramatically and speaks in a tone of 
frenetic excitement.  "We've...got to figure out what's happening to 
us!"
	"Ach, Captain," says O'Brawn in a thick Scottish accent as 
he walks in.  His hair is now black instead of blond, straight 
instead of curly.  "Me bairns are in tip-top shape."
	Cisco holds up a mirror.  "I'm...getting paler and paler.  
My...hair is turning brown and getting longer!"  He presses the 
intercom again.  "Captain to sickbay!"
	At that moment, a much-aged Mashir walks in.  His face is 
craggy.  "I was doin' a very delicate operation, San," he says.
	"Any progress on this...physical alteration we're going 
through, Bones?" asks Cisco.
	"Dammit, San, I can't do two things at once."
	At that moment, a strange man walks into the conference 
room.
	"Who...is that?" asks Cisco.
	"Meet Nimoy Fax," beams Doctor Mashir.  "I took out Zsa-
Zsa's slug and put it in his stomach."
	"The network," says the man, "was not prepared to have a 
female first officer on the bridge."
	"But...Quira is my first officer, not Zsa-Zsa Fax," says 
Cisco.
	"Quira resigned her command position, Captain," says 
Nimoy Fax.  "As her skin has darkened, she has developed a 
passionate love for opening and closing hailing frequencies."
	"We have no network - we're syndicated!" Cisco protests, 
slamming his fist into the table.
	"That too has reverted to the way it was a long time ago," 
says Nimoy Fax.  "Don't worry, San.  I'm still the same Fax you 
knew and loved - though I'm beginning to develop telepathic 
abilities."
	"And...what of the woman Zsa-Zsa, Bones?" demands 
Cisco.
	"We're tryin' to see if she'd make a good Nurse Chapel, 
since Lwaxana isn't in this episode, San," says Mashir.
	"I believe, Captain, that it's fairly obvious what's happening 
to us," says Nimoy Fax.  "The reversion of this portion of the 
space/time continuum is causing our bodies and minds to change - 
de-evolve, if you will - to a state more compatible with our new 
surroundings."
	"How...can this be?" asks Cisco, whose brown hair is now 
beginning to recede.
	"Interons, Jim...er...San," says Mashir.  "Each of us has, in 
his or her genetic makeup, genetic fragments that are only now 
being expressed.  We're turnin' into earlier forms of Starfleet 
officers!"
	"The Doctor is uncharacterstically correct," says Nimoy 
Fax.  "Within another hour, all trace of our original personalities 
will be swept aside."
	"Uncharacterstically correct?" asks Julio incredulously.  
"And to think I ever loved you, Fax!  You inhuman, green-blooded 
- "
	"Bridge to Captain," comes Quira's new voice.
	"Go ahead, Lieutenant," says Cisco.
	"The Bajoran Borg are hailing us," says Quira.  "They want 
to finish what they started."
	"Doctor, Mr. Fax, Odious, and Snark, to the bridge!" Cisco 
barks, his skin now almost totally peach-colored.  "Mr. O'Brawn, I 
want you to rig the ship so we few can run it!"

* * *

	"Hailing frequencies open, Captain," says Quhura.
	"Raise shields and arm weapons, Mr. Snarkov," says 
Captain James T. Cisco.  "Mr. Sulodious, stand by on evasive 
course."
	Cisco calls down to "Scotty" O'Brawn.  "Scotty, how's 
things down there?"
	"Ach, Cap'n, Aye need another week ta get th'automation 
up an' runnin!  But ye dinna have a week, so Aye've already done 
it!  A chimpanzee an' two trainees could run her!"
	"All right...this is Captain James T. Cisco commanding the 
Starship Enterprise," says Cisco, regarding his waistline with 
concern.  "Bajoran Borg, we come in peace (lock phasers on target, 
Mr. Snarkov)!"
	The image of a much-altered Bajoran Borg appears on the 
viewscreen.  Gone are most of the cybernetic implants, replaced 
with shiny paint.  Instead of a hand that is a tennis racket, it holds a 
tennis racket with one hand.  "You are not of the body!" it protests.
	"A reference to an early form of collective intelligence, 
Captain," says Mr. Spax.
	"Keptin!  Dey are firing upon us!"
	The camera shifts to an outer view of both ships.  A huge 
(real) tennis ball comes flying through space, and hits the 
Enterprise on one of its nacelles!
	"Ach!  She canna take much more, Captain!" Scotty 
protests from Engineering.
	"Prepare to return fire!" says James T. Cisco.
	Suddenly, the weaponry systems of both ships go dead.  On 
the screens of both ships appears an ethereal, youthful, nauseating 
form with a wreath in his hair apparently floating in deep space.
	"Wesley!" says Cisco.  "Look what you've done to us!"
	"I am a superior life-form," says Wesley, "and I order you 
both to stop fighting and to resolve your differences more 
peacefully!"
	"I...won't be dictated to...by you!" huffs Cisco.
	"I can make ALL your hair fall out, Captain," smirks the 
shimmering image of Wesley.
	"Bajoran Borg Captain!" says Captain Cisco, suddenly 
knowing that the Borg now have a captain.  "I challenge you 
instead to a game of Bajoran tennis on the planet below us!  If we 
win, we get to go free.  If you win...we'll join you!  Is that peaceful 
enough, Wesley?"
	"Characteristically so, Captain," says the all-powerful Brat.  
"It is an encouraging sign that humanity may someday evolve to 
the point of being worthy of meeting ME, in all my glorious - 
AGH!"
	Suddenly, a strange wave of disorientation passes through 
everyone and everything.  Wesley vanishes from the screen and all 
ship's systems come back online.  The bridge changes radically, 
becoming a darker, more metallic place.
	"Analysis, Mr. Spax!" says Cisco.
	"Captain, Wesley is not as skilled at using his powers as he 
thinks.  This entire pocket of space is unstable.  Its physical laws 
are beginning to fluctuate back to what we would regard as 
normal.  Already, the special-effects budget is increasing 
exponentially.  Logically, we will begin to age with the ship."
	Cisco feels his hair-plugs and nods.  Their uniforms are 
now burgundy, and the music even more sweeping and orchestral.

Act VI:  Movie Madness

	"Captain's Log, apparent stardate 8130.4.  The Bajoran 
Borg have not made any moves at all since this unstable region of 
alternate reality began to age.  All our attempts to reach the not-
quite omnipotent, but very nauseating, entity known as Wesley 
Crusher have, to this point, failed."

	"We've...got to try to get out of this region of space!" 
proclaims James T. Cisco.  "Mr. Sulodious, plot a course back 
toward the Wormhole."
	"Course laid in, Aye sir," says Sulodious, who is now 
incapable of saying anything else.
	The music takes on a bold direction of determination.
	"Then let's get out of here," says Cisco.
	Suddenly, the Borg ship fires upon the Enterprise!  The 
special effects budget is now large enough that the Enterprise can 
be seen being sliced and diced and roasted very nicely from space.
	"Ach!" calls "Scotty" from Engineering.  "That knocked out 
the automation.  I've got no control over anything!"
	"Borg Captain is signalling for our surrender, Sir," says 
Quhura.
	"Onscreen, and spare me the shocked reaction," says Cisco.
	The Borg Captain is now played by Ricardo Montalban!
	"I mean to avenge myself upon you, Admiral," says the 
Borg.
	"Admiral?" Cisco echoes, an idiotic grin on his face.
	"I've deprived your ship of power, and when I swing 
around, I mean to deprive you of your LIFE.  But I wanted you to 
know first who it was who had BEATEN you!"
	"Well whoopie-doo," says Admiral James T. Cisco, cutting 
off the communication.
	"Captain," says Mr. Spax, "scanning an energy source on 
the Borg ship...a pattern I've never seen before.  Computer 
identifies it as the 'Exodus wave.'"
	"Exodus?" asks Cisco.  "Wasn't that the project to bring life 
from lifelessness?"
	"No, Jim," says the Doctor.  "That was Genesis.  Exodus 
gets rid of all life."
	"Can we outrun it?" asks Cisco.
	"Not with our engines down," says Spax, taking this 
opportunity to leave the bridge.
	"Oh, no you don't - " Julio follows Mr. Spax into the 
turbolift.

* * *

	"Are you out of your friggin' mind?" asks the Doctor 
outside of the radiation chamber.  "No human can tolerate the 
radiation that's in there."
	"Hey, that's right!" says Nimoy Spax.  "Gosh, thanks, 
Doctor!"  Mr. Spax pats Doctor Mashir on the back, using that old 
Vulcan nerve pinch.  Spax reaches into his own stomach and pulls 
out the slug and shoves it into Mashir's stomach.  "Remember," 
says Nimoy.
	Nimoy, donning radiation gloves, shoves Scotty O'Brawn 
aside and enters the radiation chamber.  Unfortunately, Nimoy is 
instantly reduced to powder upon entering the chamber.

* * *

	Scotty drags a very sick Mashir and a comatose Zsa-Zsa to 
the bridge.
	"Ten seconds to death!" calls out Sulodious.

	"Ach!" says Scotty.  "Nimoy is powdered toast.  Mashir has 
the slug.  Zsa-Zsa is mentally absent."
	"Hey, no problem," says Cisco.  "We'll all be dead in two 
seconds anyway!"
	But nothing happens.
	"Quhura!  Hail the Borg Captain!" says Cisco.
	The Borg Captain is now played by Christopher Lloyd.  
"My name is not important!" he roars, feeding his pet scaly slimy 
lizardlike thing.  "I've changed my mind about destroying the 
Enterprise.  I'm going to take it over instead.  I shall beam over 
with my crew in one minute!"
	"Sure, but we weren't expecting company.  It's a mess over 
here.  Can we have a chance to clean the place up?  Like maybe 
two minutes?" asks Cisco.
	"I give two minutes, for you and your gallant crew," says 

the Borg Captain.  "And if you're really nice, I'll give you a ride in 
my DeLorean.  Just don't try anything."
	"Wouldn't dream of it," chuckles Cisco, stroking a big 
button labelled "Self-Destruct."

Act VII:  Who Mourns For A Doorknob?

	The mutated crewmembers stand on a hill and watch a 
brilliant star go flaming through the sky.
	"My God, Bones, what have I done?" asks Cisco, regarding 
the dying Enterprise streaking through the moon's upper 
atmosphere.
	"What you had to do.  What you always do.  Make a 
spectacular wreck of everything and nearly kill us all," says Doctor 
Mashir in a voice that is half his and half the slug's in his stomach.
	"Ach, at least that takes care o' the Bajoran Borg," says 
Scotty O'Brawn.
	The seven crewmembers wander for a time in the direction 
of some life signs picked up by Mashir's tricorder.  The sun rises.
	Finally, the group reaches a clearing where they find a 
temple with a throne in the middle.  On the throne, a wreath of 
olive leaves around his head, is Wesley.
	"Welcome, gentle souls!" he proclaims, his voice echoing.  
"Welcome to my new home, one I modeled after the home of the 
god Apollo!"
	"Appalling is more like it," grumbles Sulodious.
	"You will respect and love me!" Wesley says, filled with 
conceit (as always).
	At that moment, the Space Cadets and Kai Alpaca come 
into the clearing.  "We brought you your olive branches," says 
Alpaca.  "Now can we leave and never see you again?"
	"No!  You will all gather olive branches for me for the rest 
of your lives!  That includes your crew as well, Cisco!"
	"But...Mashir has Zsa-Zsa's slug!  She needs it back!" says 

James T. Cisco.  "Can you help us?  I ask for Faulty Pin, the re-
fusion ceremony!"
	"And I refuse to do the re-fusion," chortles Wesley.
	"I...have had...enough of...YOU!" roars Cisco, charging 
Wesley.  Several of the Space Cadets also take the opportunity to 
lunge at the loathed demigod.
	Wesley sends a bolt of light from his fingers right at Cisco.  
"Die, Captain, Commander, or whatever you are!" he squeals.
	Suddenly, the bolt of light stops and vanishes.  There's a 
bright flash to one side of Wesley's throne, a whooshing sound, and 
there stands Q.
	"Enough already.  You pass the test," says Q to Wesley.
	"Huh?" asks Wesley.  "What the hell are you doing here?"
	"Whatever I please," says Q.  "First, I'm restoring everyone 

to the way they should be."  Q snaps his fingers and Cisco and 
company find themselves totally back to normal.
	"My sexy earlobes are back!" chortles Snark.
	Well, as normal as they get.
	"Now," says Q, "let me explain things before you start 
squealing about plot manipulation.  I was the one who sent the 
Bajoran Borg over here to shoot down the Cadets.  I knew doing 
that would bring you here, Wesley."
	"How did you know?" asks Cisco, relieved that his skin 
color is once more a healthy shade of brown.
	"I'm omniscient, you oaf," says Q.  "Then I tested the extent 
of Wesley's powers by the death I knew you'd inflict on him, as 
well as by pitting him against the Bajoran Borg.  He passed.  He's 
omnipotent, though dreadfully clumsy."
	"If you're omniscient," asks Wesley, "how come you didn't 
know the extent of my powers from the outset and had to test me 
at all?"
	Q pointedly ignores this.  "Wesley will of course have to 
come back to the Q Continuum with me.  We can't have 
omnipotent entities roaming the universe, doing as they please."
	"As much as I hate the brat," says Odious, "you're hardly 
one to talk about omnipotent entities marauding through the 
universe, since that's exactly what you are, Q."
	"Go change into a chicken or something," snorts Q.
	"Gee whillikers," says Wesley, getting off his throne, 
"you'll not take me willingly!  I'll fight you, Q!"
	And thus begins a fireball battle between Q and Wesley 
that lasts exactly one second - the time it takes the first fireball Q 
shoots to hit Wesley.
	"Sure Q buddy," groans Wesley from the temple floor, "I'll 
go with you.  Whatever you say."
	"And now, if you'll excuse us - " Q begins.
	Cisco's restored nostrils flare brilliantly.  "I'll not have you 
abduct a citizen of the Federation!  Even if it is the single most 
irritating and now most dangerous member!  I will stop you!"
	"You and what army?" snorts Q.
	Two brilliant blobs of color appear in the morning sky 
overhead.  "We will stop you, Trelane."
	"Mother!  Father!"  Q protests.  "I told you never to call me 
that in public!"
	"We don't want Wesley entering the Q Continuum," says 

the female blob.
	"The fate of sharing the same continuum with the space 
brat is more than even we can bear," says the male blob.  "Come 
home now, Trelane.  It's dinnertime."
	"Ah, shucks," says Q.  "Well, looks like you're stuck with 
Wesley, Cisco.  Have fun!"
	And Q vanishes in another flash of light and whooshing 
sound.
	Wesley gets up and brushes himself off.  A demonic grin 
spreads over his repulsive face.  "Where were we?  Oh yes - I was 
about to incinerate you, Cisco, for insubordination to me.  I give 
you one more chance to go gather olive branches for me!"
	"Go and attempt that biological impossibility," smiles 
Cisco sweetly.
	"What about you, Julio, my old friend?" asks Wesley.
	"After having that slug in my stomach - my slender, lovely 
stomach - I'm afraid I'm not your friend any more either," says 
Julio sadly.
	"Then you will all die!" Wesley proclaims.
	Suddenly, the shimmering image of the Traveller appears.  
Wesley gets very scared on seeing the Traveller.
	"I knew it was a mistake to let you go wandering on your 
own, Wesley," says the Traveller.  "I am sorry for the damage he 
has caused, Commander.  Q was able to reverse most of it, but 
there was nothing I could do about the crew of the Antares."
	"No!" says Wesley, inching towards Cisco.  "Don't let him 
take me!"
	"What do you intend to do with Wesley?" asks Cisco.
	"He cannot be allowed to roam free, or he would destroy 
humanity, either through his own power or through the nausea he 
would cause," says the Traveller.  "His skills shall be honed and he 
shall be disciplined in a special universe created just for him - the 
W Continuum.  W is for Wesley."
	"No!" Wesley shrieks.  "You're...you're my friend, 
Commander Cisco.  Chum!  Pal!  A bud in need's a bud indeed!"
	"I didn't like the idea of Q getting ahold of you, but the 
Traveller's a decent sort," shrugs Cisco.
	"Come, Wesley.  It is time," says the Traveller, vanishing.
	"No!  I don't want to be all by myself!" screams Wesley, 
holding out his hands in supplication.  "Please let me stay - stay - 
stay - "  His voice echoes eerily as he vanishes.
	Zsa-Zsa holds up her tricorder.  "San, the runabout is back 
in orbit.  There's no trace of the Bajoran Borg."
	"Thanks, Fax," says Cisco.  "Alpaca, Space Cadets, we can 
have rescue ships sent here within a few days."
	"Thank you, Commander," says Kai Alpaca.  "And the 
natives have informed me that they wish to stay on this world and 
make a new life for themselves."
	Cisco nods and stares into the sky.
	"What are you looking at, My Lord?" asks Bajor Major 
Quira.
	"Nothing," says Cisco.  "I'm just wondering - would it have 
hurt us to just gather a few olive branches?"
	The rest of Cisco's crew, the Space Cadets, and Kai Alpaca 
all look at Cisco.  The unanimous response?
	"Yes!"


---------------

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