MiSTing - "Moment of Doubt"
(In the not-too-distant future, somewhere in time and space...)
(Scene: SoL. Crow and Tom Servo are working at a computer with
the monitor facing away from the screen when Mike enters.)
Mike: Hey, guys, what's up?
Crow: Oh, not much. Just checking up on my newsgroups.
Mike: Oh, good. OK, I'll... wait a sec, what is that?
alt.startrek.creative.tasteless? Star Trek porno!?
Servo: Don't worry, Mike! Most of this stuff is so bad it's
funny!
Crow: This one looks good... "Wesley and Spot: The Sensual
Adventures".
Mike: Wesley and SPOT?!? What were they thinking? I gotta see
this!
Crow (reading from screen): "After Wesley finished emptying the
Whiskas can into Spot's dish, he began stroking the cat's
lustrous orange fur. He had never noticed before just how
wonderfully tactile the feel of the fur was on his hand..."
(The computer begins beeping.)
Servo: What's that?
Computer Voice: InterCensor has determined that you little
perverts are reading something InterCensor thinks you shouldn't.
Crow: Heyyyy... I didn't install that! (turns toward Servo and
Mike) Which one of you dummkopfs installed blocking software?
Computer Voice: InterCensor will now cause your computer to burst
into flames.
(The computer bursts into flames.)
All: AAAHHHHHH!
(Mike runs off-screen and returns holding a fire extinguisher. He
sprays the computer down until it resembles a large cloud of
chemical foam.)
Crow: Awww... my DOOM CD-ROM!
(The hexfield light begins flashing.)
Servo: Uh, guys, Speed Racer and Chim-Chim are hailing us...
(Pearl, Bobo and the Brain Guy in the minibus appear on the
hexfield viewscreen.)
Pearl: Hi, guys. I see you've discovered the InterCensor program
I had Mr. Omnipotent here install it telepathically on your hard
drive when you weren't looking.
(SoL)
Crow: That would be something you'd do, wouldn't it?
(Minibus)
Pearl: But of course. I have to keep you boys from having too
much fun up there... anyway, onward to the business at hand. Your
posting today is one of the newest paste jewels in the crown of
alt.startrek.creative.
(SoL)
Mike: No! It can't be....!
(Minibus)
Pearl: Don't worry those pitiful little synapses of yours,
Nelson. It's not Ratliff.
(SoL)
All: *long sigh of relief*
(Minibus)
Pearl: I have faith that soon dear Stevie will pen another
incorrigible Marrissa tale for your reading enjoyment. (smirks)
For now, this literary train wreck will have to do.
(SoL. The hexfield viewscreen blinks off.)
All: AHHHH!!!! We've got posting sign!!!!
(6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...)
(Scene: SoL Theater.)
Crow: Hey, it could be worse. It could be Marrissa porno...
Mike: That's a bad image, Crow. A very bad image.
Servo: Shhh, the cheese is starting!
> Moment of Doubt
> by Sharon Nuttycombe
Mike: Nuttycombe: part of a balanced breakfast.
Servo: Now fortified with 11 vitamins & minerals!
> (avalon99@telusplanet.net)
Crow: (Peter Graves) So, tell us, planet...
> [G] VOY, J/C
> Part 1/1,
All: Whew!
> Posted July 31, 1997
>
> ***********************************************************
> Okay, okay. I know I should be working on "Full Circle" --
> that's what you get for announcing the third part of a
> trilogy --people actually expect you to finish it!
Servo: Care to share a chuckle about writers actually having to
finish stories, Crow?
Crow: Don't mind if I do!
> (For everyone who's asked, it's about halfway finished).
>
> But -- I needed a quick break, so this is my response to
> some of the ramifications of Voyager's 70 year journey, and
> to Scorpion part I. It takes place a month after that
> episode. (I'm assuming all ends well in part II...)
> SUMMARY: The death of a crewmember forces Janeway to
> revisit some of the decisions she has made and try to mend
> some bridges she has broken.
Mike: Sadly, the judges spotted the bubble gum and Scotch tape
and had to disqualify her from the science fair.
> ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: To Linda Campbell a brilliant Beta
> reader, who is not afraid to tell me when something
> *doesn't* work, and to yell "Cliche Alert, Cliche Alert,
> Awooga! Awooga!"
Crow: Cliche alert! Everybody try to sway the same way this time!
> when necessary. And to...um...er...the
> Great Pumpkin! (because it's 3:00 am and I'm feeling
> whimsical -- as well as rather light-headed!)
Servo: Well, that explains this whole story right there.
> DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. Never will. 'Nuff said.
Mike: (singing falsetto) You don't own meeee.....
Servo: (falsetto) But you can still write bad fanfic about
meeee....
> ***********************************************************
> Moment of Doubt 1/1
> Was I wrong? Have these past three years been nothing
> but wasted time?
Crow: (Janeway) Could UPN have been airing another show with Joey
Lawrence instead?
>
> I sighed, staring out at the light that was slowly
> vanishing in the distance. The crew had long since left,
> retiring to the holodeck for the Wake. I would join them
> soon, but for now I was alone in the darkened room...alone
> with my thoughts and the image of Ensign Rio's last voyage.
Servo: (Janeway) What if Rio hadn't worn a red shirt that day?
> How many had died since we had been brought here?
Servo: 17!
Mike: 346 Ensign Expendables!
Crow: Uh, does this count the millions of members of primitive
societies massacred without regard to the Prime Directive?
Mike: Of course not, Crow. Everyone knows the only purpose of
primitive societies is for the amusement of the Federation.
All: In conclusion... NOT ENOUGH!
> Too
> many.
All: No, NOT ENOUGH!
> Too many losses, too many sacrifices...
Crow: Too many bunts.
> compromises. And for what? We were no closer to finding a
> way home, to finding a way to avoid spending the next 67
> years in space than when we arrived.
> These questions have been weighing on me more and more
> this past month. Ever since the Borg...and ever since
> Chakotay made his stand. At the time I was so focused, so
> determined to get everyone home, no matter what the cost.
> I felt I owed it to the crew.
Mike: (Janeway) And to myself. I'm a good captain, yes I am!
Servo: (Janeway) Besides, I can't really die, so why not risk it?
> But now...well, let's just say that a lot of what he said
> is coming back to haunt me. I did risk my ship and
> everyone's lives
Crow: (Janeway) Except mine and every other major character's.
> in my need to return home. Was I wrong?
> It worked out well enough in the end - we passed safely
> through Borg space, we weren't forced to share our
> technology with them, and Harry completely recovered.
Servo: (Janeway) He wore that Care Bears Band-aid like a badge of
courage.
> So
> why are these doubts consuming me?
> Was Chakotay right? Part of me says "No, of course
>not.
> We're Starfleet Officers. We took an oath to serve the
> Federation.
Mike: (nasal voice) "On my honor, I will try, To serve God and my
country..."
> We have to go back.
Crow: (Janeway) I left my Parcheesi board!
> It's our duty. It's my
> duty..."
> Except...if this journey really takes 70 years, who
>will be waiting for us? True, we humans live long lives
> now...
Mike: Except for ensigns, who still live an average of 4.2
seconds.
> it's likely that many of the people we knew will
> still be alive when we reach Earth. But they'll have gone
> on with their lives, formed new attachments, married and
> had children... grandchildren. They'll have mourned us and
> moved on.
Servo: And they'll have done the right thing.
Mike: Except for the mourning part; they could skip that.
Crow: Who would wait 70 years for these losers?
> Surely we should do the same? I realized long
> ago that my relationship with Mark was over, that it was
> time to live in the present, not the past. But I haven't,
> have I? I'm still the same Kathryn Janeway who left DS9
> three years ago.
Servo: (Janeway) Except that I have renamed myself Queen Trillian
of the Rising Moon, and all must bow to me!
>I haven't changed.
Crow: (Janeway) ... my clothes since the pilot.
> Chakotay was right.
> Sometimes I don't know when to let go...
> "Captain." At the sound of his voice, I straightened
>and
> turned
Mike: (Janeway) And lifted and crunched, right along with Richard
Simmons.
> . My First Officer stood in the doorway, concern
> etched on his face.
Crow: Right up there with the glowing 666.
> At the sight of him, a shaft of
> unhappiness shot through me.
Servo: (Janeway) Dammit, Chakotay, next time set that thing on
"Stun"!
> To a certain extent, we had
> mended our relationship after our conflict back in Borg
> space, enough that we could function as the same effective
> team, but there was something missing. Some vital spark
> that I had destroyed when I had resorted to emotional
> blackmail.
Crow: (Janeway) I really prefer the term "extortion".
> I cringed inwardly at the memory. The conversation we
> had had in my ready room replayed itself in my mind. I had
> wanted...no, needed...him on my side, to understand what I
> was trying to do.
Mike: Don't even say it, Crow.
Crow: What do you mean? I didn't even have a riff for that!
Mike: Oh. Carry on.
> It had all seemed so clear at the time -
> - ally ourselves with the Borg against a more powerful
> enemy. Now I wonder what I could have been thinking. In
> that moment, I had forgotten Wolf 359,
Servo: Not to mention Turk 182.
> forgotten everything
> the Borg had done to the Federation, everything they could
> do...
> No. Be honest with yourself, Kathryn. I chose to
>ignore it. Just as I chose to ignore him. I bit my lip, then
> straightened my shoulders.
Crow: (Janeway) I thought to myself, "Maybe you should be putting
more thought into running the ship and less into basic fine motor
skills."
> I had been wrong about too many
> things. Well, maybe it was time to finally admit it. Time
> to try to put right what had gone wrong.
Mike: And hope each time that the next leap would be the leap
home...
> "The crew is beginning to wonder where you are.
Crow: (Chakotay) You haven't initiated the self-destruct sequence
and then wussed out at the last minute for two weeks now!
> Are
> you...all right?" There was a note of hesitation in his
> voice that wouldn't have been there a month ago.
> I opened my mouth, paused, then changed the reply I had
> already formed in my mind.
Mike: (Chakotay) Ah, good to see you're thinking before speaking
now, Captain.
> It was time for the truth.
> "No, not really," I said.
All: *long sigh of relief*
> A frown creased his brow and he came the rest of the way
> into the darkened room, the door sliding shut behind him.
> "Would you like to talk about it?"
> For a moment he sounded almost like the old Chakotay. I
> nodded. "Will you...sit down?" I sounded stilted,
> uncomfortable.
Servo: (Janeway) Next time, I'll wear boxers instead of briefs.
> Once more I mourned the easy familiarity we
> had once had.
> He sat. I sank into the chair opposite him and met his
> gaze. "I was wrong." He blinked.
Crow: (Janeway) Ha ha, beat you at Stink Eye AGAIN!
> Well, as conversational
> gambits went, this one *was* a little abrupt. Still, now
> that I had started... "I...first of all, I owe you an
> apology. I'm sorry about what happened while we were in
> Borg space. You told me your opinion and I dismissed it
> out of hand.
Mike: (Janeway) It's the thousandth time I've done that, and I
wanted to throw a little party...
> Worse, I used...tactics...I shouldn't have to
> try to change your mind.
Servo: We really didn't need to know that, Janeway.
Mike: Crow!
Crow: I didn't say that! Tom did!
Mike: Oh. Tom!
> For that, I'm very sorry." There
> was an awkward pause, then:
Servo: The warp core exploded, killing everyone.
Crow: Yay! A happy ending!
> "Kathryn..." It was the first time he had used my name
> since that moment in my ready room. "Kathryn -- you
> believed strongly in what you were doingthat , and I respected
> that. I still do. But..." His voice trailed off.
Mike: As did the plot, a long time ago.
> "But I didn't look at both sides of the picture. I
>never
>once considered...really considered...your advice. Never
>looked at anything except what *I* wanted."
Crow: So, what else is new?
> "Well...yes."
> I stared at him. A familiar glimmer, long vanished, was
> beginning to reappear in his eyes and a small smile hovered
> on his face.
Servo: (Janeway) Chakotay, get your Chesire cat out of here!
> Some of the heaviness around my heart lifted.
Mike: Ah, instant triple bypass.
> "You needn't agree with me so quickly," I said wryly.
> "I always agree with my Captain when she's right."
> "And when she isn't?"
Servo: (Chakotay) I agree anyway, lest I face the wrath of the
great and terrible Queen Trillian.
> "I'll tell her so, in no uncertain terms...And then I'll
> still follow her into Hell if she asks me."
Crow: (Janeway) Oh, goodie! Follow me into Hell!
> I caught my breath. Deeply shaken,
Mike: (James Bond) Not stirred.
> I reached out
> and took his hand, as I had done so long ago on New Earth.
> "Thank you." I mouthed the words, not quite trusting my
> voice. For a long moment we sat, not speaking, hands
> entwined, then I abruptly released him and stood, staring
> back out the window at the endless field of stars. Ensign
> Rio's coffin had almost disappeared from view.
Crow: (Janeway) It's kind of a shame that they put Rio in a cigar
box, huh?
> "There's something else." It wasn't a question.
> Wordlessly I nodded. I didn't hear him move, but suddenly
> I felt a hand touch my shoulder, light as a shadow's touch,
> and I could feel his warmth behind me. For a moment I was
> tempted to lean back into it, to close my eyes and savour
> the touch of another human body...of his body...for just an
> instant.
Mike: Eeeewwwwww!
Servo: Gross!
Crow: Icky!
All: BAD IMAGE!!
> I did neither.
Mike: Whewwww, close call!
> Instead, I turned to face him, leaning
> back slightly against the window. He said nothing, merely
> waited for me to speak.
> "I'm...having doubts."
> "About what?"
> I waved a hand. "All of this. The ship, this journey
> we're on, my own judgements and beliefs.
Servo: (Janeway) Maybe I shouldn't rule the universe with an iron
fist...
> I'm...starting to
> wonder if I made the right decision when we were first
> brought here..." At the expression on his face, I hastened
> to continue. "No, not in destroying the Array and taking
> our chances on finding our own way home, but in *trying to
> get home at all*" There. I had said it and the world
> hadn't ended.
Crow: Unfortunately for us...
> Lightning hadn't struck me and the ship
> hadn't exploded.
Mike: But my brain will if we stay in here any longer. Let's go.
(Mike and the 'bots exit the theater.)
( 1.... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...)
(Scene: SoL. Crow, Servo, and Mike are all cleaning up/repairing
the computer covered in chemical foam when Captain Janeway appears in the
middle of the room.)
Crow: Okay, the CPU should work with a little duct tape here
and... (looks over at Janeway) Wah???
Servo: (turns to look at Janeway) Hey, what are you doing here?
Janeway: I'm here to inform you that your vessel is in Federation
space and, because it looks sorta menacing and I'm in charge of
the Federation vessel apprehending you, I can board and take
control of this ship!
Mike: The Satellite of Love *menacing*? You've got to be kidding!
Pearl hired you to freak us out, right?
Janeway: Well, it's sort of sorta menacing... besides, we haven't
found a decent Class M planet with a somewhat advanced culture,
but not nearly as advanced as us, to destroy in a few months, and
I'm sick of pillaging whole villages of hobbits in the holodeck,
so I figured this could be fun. (turns to Crow) Ensign... uhh,
what's your name?
Crow: Crow T. Robot, but that's *Mr.* Robot to you, pal.
Janeway: OK. Ensign Robot, set the quickest course to the Alpha
Quadrant!
Crow: Uh, no.
Janeway: Ensign Robot, that is a *direct order*! You must obey!
Crow: Again, no.
Janeway: All right, then, we'll have to do it the hard way!
Computer, set self-destruct sequence; authorization code foxtrot
charlie niner zulu indian hotel roger wilco!
Magic Voice: Yeah, right!
Janeway: (breaks out crying) Oh, it's no use! I've lost my touch!
I can't even make a dopey little satellite or a robot made out of
used sporting goods bend to my will! I can't do the dramatic
self-destruct countdown thing anymore! Hell, I can't even get
David Lorring to stop playing table football in the library!
What's the point of living?
Servo: (whispering to Mike) Uh, who's David Lorring?
Mike: (whispering back) An idiot in the MiSTer's seventh grade
social studies class. It's an inside joke.
Servo: (whispering) Ahh... wait... the MiSTer??
Mike: (whispering) Later, Tom.
Crow: Oh, come now, Captain Janeway, it's OK! Here, let's get you
a nice cappuccino to make you feel better.
(Crow leads Janeway off stage left.)
Mike: Does he have a plan or something?
Servo: Shhhhh.
(We hear the sound of creaking metal offstage.)
Janeway: (o.s.) Is it supposed to sound like this?
Crow: (o.s.) Don't worry, Captain, it's fine. I just haven't
oiled it in a while.
(The noises get louder and louder.)
Janeway: (o.s) ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS?
Crow: (o.s) TRUST ME!!
(There is a loud explosion off stage left. Smoke, dust, and steamed milk
vapor cover everything for a moment. When the stage clears we see
Mike and Servo hacking and coughing.)
Janeway: (o.s., weakly) Janeway to sickbay! One to beam up!
(Crow enters. A largish piece of shrapnel has been driven
straight through his beak.)
Servo: Nicely done, Crow!
Mike: Yeah, did you plan that?
Crow: Ow.
(The assorted flashing lights & sirens go off.)
Mike & Servo: AHHHHH! WE'VE GOT POSTING SIGN!!!!!
Crow: Ow.
(6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...)
(Scene: SoL Theater.)
Crow: Ow. Mike, could you get this thing out of my mowf?
Mike: Oh, yeah, that. Sure.
(Mike proceeds to pull out the shrapnel.)
Mike: You should have told me earlier if it was bothering you,
Crow.
Crow: C'mon, did you honestly think I was enjoying the
experience?
Servo: Shhh, the post's coming back!
> Chakotay was staring at me. "That couldn't have been
> easy to say," he said softly.
> I swallowed. "It wasn't."
> "So why are you questioning yourself now?"
Servo: (Janeway) Because Cindy and Bobby Lou, the two little
girls who live in my head, got in a fight!
> I looked away. "I'm not sure. Lot's of things really,
> not just Ensign Rio's death, although, yes, that had a
> part. No -- it's watching my crew get a little older and a
> little tireder each day,
Crow: Wasn't "We Get A Little Older and Tireder Each Day" a song
on "Barney & Friends"?
> always waiting for the next
> crisis, wondering who will survive the next battle.
Mike: (Janeway) Me, that's for sure!
> And
> for what? No one will be waiting for us in 70 years.
All: GOOD!!
> Starfleet won't be expecting us to return, they'll have
> given us up for dead..."
> "It may not take that long."
> "But it might...or we might not get there at all."
Crow: (Janeway) Because the monsters will come out from under my
bed again and eat everyone!
> I
> couldn't quite keep the bitterness from my voice. He
> reached out and, with both hands on my shoulders, steered
> me back to the chair. I let him, sinking bonelessly into
> it. Suddenly, I felt so tired.
Mike: (Janeway) It was just then I smelled the hint of bitter
almonds in my drink.
> Exhaustion swept over me
> in waves and it was becoming difficult to think.
Crow: Or use commas, for that matter.
Mike: Crow, that's one RAMchip for grammar flaming.
Crow: D'oh!
> I stiffened as his hands curled around the knotted
> muscles in my neck, working and kneading the tension away.
> He hadn't touched me like this since New Earth and, for a
> moment, I considered bolting out the door.
Mike: (Janeway) But it was useless, since these were my quarters.
> But only for a
> moment. As his hands worked their magic I found myself
> leaning back into his touch. It was all I could do to keep
> from melting.
Servo: I see Janeway's confused a ThawMaster with a
MassageMaster...
Crow: You only think that's funny, Tom. Try it sometime, see how
funny it is then!
Mike: Guys, guys, I thought we called a truce on that!
> I bit my lip and held myself still.
> Starfleet Captains do *not* melt, I told myself firmly...
> well, except under the direst of circumstances. Perhaps a
> little melting would be allowed -- in this case...
> "The crew would follow you anywhere," he said, his
> fingers running over my neck and shoulders.
Mike: (singing falsetto) Ever since I touched her hand I knew...
there isn't a wormhole too deep, a warp core so hot it can keep,
keep me away!
Crow & Servo: (falsetto) Doo Wop Doo Wop!
> "That's part of the problem," I said, trying to ignore
> the feelings he was evoking in me and concentrate on the
> conversation. "What if they're doing this for *me*? What
> if they really want to find a nice planet somewhere and
> settle down, not wander endlessly through the Delta
> Quadrant..."
Servo: (Suzanne Somers) Sure, we all do!
> "I'd tell you if they did."
> A sigh escaped me. "I know. But there's more to it
>than that. If it does take 70 years to get home then it will be
> our children that sail the ship into an Earth orbit, not
> us."
Crow: Oh NO! Kid's Crew in the Delta Quadrant!?!
Mike: Run for your lives!! Crossover Ratliff!!
> His hands stilled on my neck, and I realized just how
> that sounded... I continued hastily. "I mean, the crew's
> children... That is..."
Servo: Inane and Generally Lame Double Entendre Alert! Woop!
Woop!
> "So why is that a problem?" A chuckle lurked just
> beneath his words and suddenly I was fiercely glad that he
> couldn't see my face which was probably red as a Talaxian
> tomato.
Crow: (Scotty) Fiercely strained simile off the starboard bow,
capt'n!
> The massage resumed and I struggled to gather my
> thoughts.
> "They'll never have known Earth or the Federation. The
> only home they'll have will be this ship. What sort of a
> life is that for children, trapped on a starship all their
> lives?
Mike: Gee, I dunno, just ask Marrissa...
> And how would they adapt to planetary life? For
> that matter, how would we, after 70 years?"
Crow: I'm praying the extra air pressure makes their hearts
explode.
Servo: I'm with you there!
> "I don't know."
> I sighed. "Neither do I. But is it fair to ask my crew
> to raise their families onboard Voyager? How would you
> feel if your children only saw the sky or the sun on rare
> occasions?" Damn. There I go, straying onto dangerous
> ground again. Focus, Kathryn, focus! I sailed hurriedly
> back into the conversation, not giving him a chance to
> respond. "And, from a purely technological viewpoint how
> long can we expect this ship to last? Seventy years is a
> long time for a starship. I mean, even the Lexington was
> only in service for twenty years. The power converters are
> going to wear out one day and the gel packs will
> certainly..."
Mike: Disintegrate on contact with pineapple?
Crow: (Scandahoovian) Ya, don't ya know those gel packs will be
mighty tasty with mandarin oranges and little colored
marshmallows with the Turkey Doodah Hotdish and a pan o' bars at
the Lutheran Sunday social!
> In one smooth move, he had moved around and was crouching
> before me, one hand on my shoulder. "Kathryn." My
> panicked monologue ground to a halt. I stared back into
> his warm brown eyes and all thought fled.
Servo: Yeah, it was getting kinda lonely.
> "Kathryn, I don't have any answers for you."
> Disappointment must have showed in my eyes, for he touched
> his other hand briefly to my hair, then continued. "But I
> don't think you have to find these answers alone. This
> isn't a command decision.
Crow: (Janeway) Yes, it is. Everything is a command decision for
Queen Trillian!
Mike: OK, guys, the Queen Trillian thing is wearing old.
Servo: Awwww, why? Janeway deserves it!
Mike: Yes, but there might be some poor woman named Trillian out
there whom we're slandering.
Servo: Oh. Hadn't thought about that. Sorry.
> There are over a hundred people
> out there that have a say in this too. I think you need to
> tell them what you've just told me, and we can decide this
> together."
Servo: (Scandahoovian) Over a nice bundt cake.
> "But what if some want to stay and some want to go on?"
> My voice was a hollow whisper. "This ship needs the entire
> crew to fly. Do we force a majority decision upon the
> rest? And...
Mike: (Janeway) What if they don't do what I telepathically order
them to do?
>" I hesitated.
> "And?" He prompted me.
> "And what if the last three years have been nothing but
> wasted time? If the crew wants to stay in the Delta
> Quadrant then what have we accomplished? People have died,
> lives have been lost, and for what?"
Crow: (Chakotay) Well, we've learned about caring and sharing...
Servo: (Chakotay) And we've embarrassed that annoying holographic
sickbay dude a lot...
> "The last three years have not been wasted, Kathryn,"
> Chakotay said fiercely, his grip tightening on me.
> "Without this time, the two crews would never have learned
> to work together. Friendships have been made, differences
> overcome, and prejudices set aside. When you left DS9
> three years ago, did you ever dream that your crew would
> end up working side by side with the Maquis?
Mike: (Janeway) Yes, and I woke up in a cold sweat.
>Could you
> even have imagined two people like Tom Paris and B'Elanna
> becoming involved romantically?"
> I gave him a watery smile. "I would have bet a month's
> replicator rations that they'd have killed each other
> within a week."
Crow: Awwwwwww, I wanted to see the Very Special Episode about
her descent into anorexia and starvation.
> "I still wouldn't rule it out." He gave me a lopsided
> grin.
Mike: (Chakotay) Help... right side of face... paralyzed...
> I laughed. It was a feeble laugh, with undercurrents of
> tangled emotions lying not far beneath the surface, but it
> was still a laugh. I could feel the gloom within me
> lifting.
Servo: New Mr. Clean removes greasy gloom within and leaves a
high-gloss finish!
> "Plus," he went on, "we've made friends and allies here
> - look at Neelix and Kes --
Crow: (Janeway) No! They scare me!
> and we've discovered more about
> the Galaxy than any ship since the early days of
> exploration... probably since the original Enterprise.
Mike: And we're still using the same sets!
> You
> told me once you envied the early explorers. Well,
> Kathryn, you are one. We all are.
Crow: (Chakotay) All except Lieutenant Dobbs, who just kind of
sits in his quarters mumbling.
> We're exploring the
> Delta Quadrant...the first humans to do so. How can you
> say this time has been wasted?"
> "I...you're right. Again. Thank you, Chakotay."
> He smiled then stood, taking my hands and drawing me up
> with him with one fluid motion. He didn't let go and,
> startled, I didn't pull away.
Servo: Wouldn't being startled indicate panic instead of bland
conformism?
> "So what happens now?" Silently I cursed my voice. Why
> did that have to sound like an invitation? I resisted the
> impulse to run my tongue along my dry lips. He was too
> close...I could feel the warmth of his body, almost touch
> the muscles beneath the uniform...
Crow: Yeahhhhh!!
Servo: Watch this one get a lot better a lot faster!
Mike: Uh, guys, need I remind you that if it becomes porn it can
only suck worse?
Servo: Oh.
Servo & Crow: Noooooo!! Don't do it!!
> Chakotay leaned forward slightly, then slowly,
> reluctantly released me and stepped back. His voice, when
> he spoke, was calm, but there was a tremor
> of...something...beneath the words.
Crow: Tragically, it turned out to be the first ever reported
linguistic parasite.
> For a moment I heard
> only the tremor and not what was lying on the surface, and
> I had to concentrate to hear the words.
> "Now, we go to a Wake and remember Ensign Rio as she
> wanted to be remembered,"
Servo: (eulogist) Ensign Rio: she lived a short, pointless life
and died a bizarre, pointless death. Amen.
> he was saying, "And then we talk
> to the crew about some decisions that need to be made." He
> took another pace backwards. I quelled a momentary flash
Crow: (Janeway) Because I wasn't much of an exhibitionist.
Mike: Crow!
Crow: OK, you got me. But it's my first one so far!
> of disappointment. Silently I nodded then stepped past him
> to precede him through the doorway. His hand on my arm
> stopped me. I glanced back over my shoulder.
> "The last three years haven't been wasted," he said
>softly.
> I've gotten to know you.
Servo: (Chakotay, singing) Gotten to know all about you...
> And for that, I thank whatever it is
>that brought us here." He leaned forward and I froze. Briefly,
>he pressed his lips to my forehead.
Mike: (Janeway) Eeeewww, Lip Smacker.
> I met his gaze for a long
>moment, then nodded and continued toward the doorway. The door
>opened then slid quietly shut behind us.
Crow: (as door, whispering) Thank you for making a humble door so
very, very happy.
> Together, we moved
>wordlessly down the corridor.
> THE END
Servo: Woohoo!
Crow: Let's blow this popsicle stand!
(Mike and the 'bots exit the theater.)
( 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...)
(Scene: SoL. The computer has reappeared, and it's completely cleaned off.)
Mike: Well, I'm glad that little ordeal is over... hey, look! The
computer's cleaned up!
Crow: The Get-Along Gang is hailing us...
Mike: All right, patch 'em through.
(Pearl, Bobo, and the Brain Guy in the space minibus appear on
the viewscreen.)
Pearl: Hello, Nelsonius. I see you've noticed how nice your
little electric joy box looks.
(SoL)
Mike: Yeah, did you do that?
(Minibus)
Pearl: Brain Guy still owes me many favors, Mikey, and this
needed to be done.
(SoL)
Servo: So, either your conscience has raised its scraggly.
malnourished head for once, or you have an ulterior motive, as
usual?
(Minibus)
Pearl: BING! Bobo, tell the vending machine what he and his
friends have won!
Bobo: Brain Guy's set up your CPU to run a "Barney & Friends" screen saver
continuously, with music, until you manage to
figure out our password. If you figure out our password!
Pearl: Have fun, boys! (Cackles maniacally)
(SoL)
Crow: C'mon, Mike, give in!
Servo: We'll give them whatever they want for that password!
Mike: Don't panic, I can figure this out...
(The computer starts playing revamped public-domain music with
really dopey lyrics, and the screen glows nagenta purple and
candy-apple-from-Hell green.)
Mike: This'll work for sure...
Computer Voice: Barney doesn't like your password, Special Friend
Mikey!
Mike: Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!
(The credits roll, with the same piercingly sappy music and
occasional reproof from Barney.)
[Disclaimer: All characters, locations, situations, and anything
else related to MST3K is copyright Best Brains, Inc. Everything
having to do with Voyager is copyright Paramount. All rights
reserved. No offense meant to the author of the original post,
Ensign Expendable, any former or current members of the Get-Along
Gang, anyone who likes Voyager and/or Barney, David Lorring, or
anyone else I may have mentioned in this thing. Actually, offense
maybe meant to David Lorring, but he deserved it. He'll never
read this anyway, unless he was a lot smarter than I took him to
be. Don't sue me; I can't afford it.]
> At the sight of him, a shaft of
> unhappiness shot through me.
(
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