Star Trek in the Real World
I am a sci-fi nerd, and proud of it. I like Star Trek, but let's face it - that world's not possible. People just aren't going to be that efficient and nice to each other. In the real world, the federation would have things like:
-Backstabbing co-workers who will fight over promotions.
-Severe Holodeck addiction
-Klingons using steroids
-playing video games and surfing ebay instead of work.
-lawyers
-crummy tech support
Stardate: fifty-seven, thirty something.
“Computer, run holodeck program Taylor Beta Seven.”
At that moment, the holodeck began running a simulation of a beach, and Captain Taylor was the only humanoid to be found. About three feet from the crest of the waves, was a pair of beach lounge chairs. Instead of wearing his traditional red uniform shirt and black pants, the captain was decked out in a floral Hawaiian shirt and cutoff shorts. The Captain sat down and thought to himself, “This is a place I could stay for awhile.”
* * *
Several hours later…
On the bridge, Commander Jacobson was quite bored. Although having no reason to do so, he looked at Chief Science Officer Lewis and probed, “Lieutenant, status report.”
Lewis responded, “We’re still in space, sir.” All bridge officers were so out of it that nobody realized the stupid comment. Without missing a beat, Lewis kept playing the game “Jupiter Rising” on his science console. This was after he had gotten bored of surfing StarFleetAmIHotOrNot.com.
With a cup of coffee in hand, Chief Navigator Miller strolled over to the lieutenant. “Working hard, or hardly working?”
“Shhhhhhhhhh! What are you thinking? The commander is right there!”
Upon thinking he heard his name, the commander opened his eyes and pretended he hadn’t been nodding off when he should have been planning for the ISO 35000 certification. “Anybody seen the Captain lately?”
“No, sir,” was the consensus reply.
“Commander Jacobson to Captain Taylor.”
No Reply.
“Computer, Locate Captain Taylor.”
“Captain Taylor is in holodeck 54.” Said the sultry voice of the computer.
The commander thought to himself, “wait a moment. He’s not supposed to be in Holodeck 54! It’s supposed to be MY turn in 15 minute!” He turned and looked at the Chief Security Officer and token Vulcan, Rebok. “Rebok, assemble a security team and meet me outside of Holodeck 54.”
“Aye, Sir”
* * *
A few minutes later in the holodeck…
“Computer, run subprogram Taylor Gamma Sixteen.”
At that moment, a holographic representation of Ensign Jenny McReynolds wearing a two-piece swimsuit came strolling by. “Care to sit down and have a drink?”
“Certainly, Captain,” holo-Jenny giggled.
“Don’t call me Captain. Call me Jeff. Computer, two chilled bottles of red wine.” He thought to himself that this MUST be violating some kind of Star Fleet regulation, but he didn’t care.
Outside the holodeck entrance, Commander Jacobson tried his comm badge one final time. “Commander to Captain Taylor. Pleeeeeeeeeease respond. Please. Please!” No response. The captain had casually left his comm badge off. Despite the on/off button, many Star Fleet officers realized they could deactivate their badge by removing the battery. “OK, he leaves us no choice. Rebok, try to open the doors.”
Rebok walked to the access panel and said , “Computer, try to open the doors.”
“Sorry, unable to comply”
Rebok turned to the commander and said, “It appears the captain has locked us out.”
“Dag nabbit! Captain Taylor has outsmarted us! Any options, guys?”
Ensign Fisher stepped forward and said, “We can beam him out.”
“Excellent Idea! Rebok, do it!”
Rebok poked on the panel for a short while. “The Captain has erected a level 10 forcefield around the holodeck.”
“Fiddlesticks! Is there anything the captain DOESN’T know?”
“Commander, there is the holodeck manual override.”
“There is? Oh, Yes, there is! What does it take to get to it?”
“I’ll have to crawl Jefferies tube 36, open the 5th panel, crawl thru a power conduit, slide down access ramp Tango 24, then rappel down the side wall to the manual release switch.”
“Why did the holodeck designers make the manual override so difficult to get?”
“It should be noted that the holodeck designers seemed to be preoccupied with the holodeck and didn’t focus much effort to future conveniences. I should remind you that no Vulcans were part of the design team. I’ll get right over to that switch.”
“Wait! You’re a valuable member of this crew. Have the ensign do it.”
“Gulp!”
* * *
In his own quarters, new Ensign Decker was on his first star voyage. He walked over to the food replicator. “Computer: one large pizza, pan crust, pepperoni, Canadian bacon and extra cheese, cut into eight slices and a large Mountain Dew.”
The replicator made the pizza to specifications and a small Mountain Dew.
Ensign Decker grumbled for a bit then specified, “Computer, 42 ounce Mountain Dew.
“Aaah, finally. The guys at the Academy were right. You CAN eat pizza every day for every meal and nobody will tell you to stop.” Ensign Decker was the crew’s largest member.
* * *
Still in the holodeck…
Captain Taylor gave another instruction, “Computer: replicate a hemp plant and all of the tools specified in file Taylor Sigma five.”
After working his magic, the Captain was ready to test his product. “Hmmm, this doesn’t quite have the effect I was expecting. Oh, wait. I know. Computer: disengage safety protocols, Authorization Taylor Theta six.”
“WOW, that’s more like it.I Think I’ve found MY new Prime Directive! Yowzers! Want some, Jen?”
Still outside, Commander Jacobson was waiting impatiently. “Ensign Fisher, status report.”
The ensign was rappelling down the side wall when he was paged. “Oh great. I’m using both hands to hold on. How am I supposed to respond? Maybe if I reach around like this… and I flip over like this…and I lean over here. Got it! Uh, Oh….”
The only thing the commander heard was “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” *THUD*
“Ensign did you get the manual override lever and are you o.k.?”
“Uuuugggggghhhh. I don’t know. It’s dark in here. I think I broke my arm.”
“Yeah, whatever. Somebody beam him to sick bay. Sorry, Rebok. It looks like you will have to get the manual release switch after all.”
“Commander, I just found a way to transfer manual release controls to this panel…there…checking…the captain has overridden the manual release as well. We’ll have to think of another way.
* * *
Chief Navigator Miller was strolling down the corridor when he came across the half Klingon weapons officer Krag. “So, how’s the inertial dampeners up there?”
Krag slapped Miller to the floor.
* * *
Ensign Fisher was beamed into the sick bay waiting room. He walked over to the receptionist. She told him, “Hon, I’m going to need you to fill out these forms. The first form asks you to describe your symptoms, the second sheet is a new patient form. Page three is a medical history questionnaire and page four is for insurance information.”
“Insurance information? I WORK FOR STAR FLEET!!!”
“I know. Some people opt out of the plan.”
“New patient form? Shouldn’t you have my entire record on file?”
“Yes, but our policy is that you fill out a new patient form for each new condition. I can get the doctor to come out and explain it to you if you like.”
“One last thing… I BROKE my ARM.”
“You have two arms, right?”
“Yes, but…oh forget it.” After he struggled to fill out the forms, h took them back to the receptionist.
“Thank you, hon. The nurse will call for you shortly.”
Ensign Fisher sat down and waited. The song playing over the speakers was “Summer Samba.” He picked up the latest issue of Alpha Quadrant Quarterly magazine. He looked through the glass window and saw four patient beds. One was Lieutenant Miller with a head wound. Next was crew’s largest member, Ensign Decker taking cholesterol regulators. Two beds were empty.
15 minutes later, Nurse Harris came into the room. “Is there an Ensign Fisher in here?” then saw that he was the only one in there. “Ah, just you. So what seems to be the problem?” as she escorted him to a bed.
“I fell down a shaft. I broke my arm.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. Let me check your blood pressure.”
“I broke my arm.”
“120 over 80. Now, you’re temperature.”
“I broke my arm”
“99.2 degrees. I’ll check your weight.
“I broke my arm. Hey, nurse. Where’s the doctor?”
“He’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“A FEW MINUTES? I broke my arm! It’ll take a few seconds to fix that!”
The doctor is a very busy man. When he has a chance, he’ll come out here and take care of you. Now, sit back and relax.”
20 minutes later, Doctor Stephens came to visit the ensign. He looked at the patient’s chart and scanned the arm with a medical tricorder. “I’m going to have to give you a splint. You’ll wear it for six weeks. You won’t be able to… “
“A SPLINT? Doc, You’re kidding, right? You can just run that fix-y thingy over my arm and heal the bone, can’t you. You do that for everyone else!”
“Well, yes. Normally I would, but your insurance doesn’t cover the ‘fix-y thingy’”
“Insurance plan? I work for Star Fleet!”
“You’re an ensign. Other ensigns know not to break their arms.”
“But…well, ok…what if I give you my holodeck time for next week. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
“All right, but if anyone finds out…it’s your fault.” VROOOOM. “O.k., your arm is healed.
* * *
Ensign Samuels was sitting in his quarters deciding what to say for his daily logs. Daily, he thought that ‘sitting around all day and not doing anything’ wouldn’t sound very good. “I know. Today, I recalibrated the on-board tachyon sensor bank to detect wormholes…or, something like that. It’s better than ‘I waited for the holodeck all day.’
“Computer: begin personal log Samuels A. Stardate 57…”
The computer interrupted, “Unable to perform operation.”
“Why?”
“Unknown”
“O.k., we’ll start over. Computer: begin personal log Sam….”
“Unable to perform operation.”
“What now?”
“The logging program has reported errors and will be shut down”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I feel your pain.”
“This is just great! When am I going to find the time to work on this. I’ve got too many things to do to work on problems like this. I guess I’ll take care of it now.”
Ensign Samuels walked to the telecom center and pressed the help desk number. “Thank you for calling the starship help desk. Your call is very important to us. All calls may be recorded for quality purposes. Press one if you’re reporting a hull breach or imminent warp core disaster. For holodeck problems, press two..or three…or four. For replicators, press five. For communications, press six. For engineering or science stations, press seven. For all other computer systems, press eight.”
“I guess I want eight.” Seventeen minutes of hold music.
The phone was answered. “My daily log program is not working.”
“Right. You need the software department. This is hardware. Please hold.” 21 more minutes on hold. The hold music included selections from a 22nd century composer who went mad and wrote entire symphonies for mandolin and harmonica. “This is Software support.”
“My daily log program is not working.”
“What did you do to it?”
“NOTHING”
“Did you add any programs to your room’s computer?”
“NO!”
“Did you change any of the language settings?”
“No.”
“Any protocol settings, language settings? Timing settings?”
“NO! NO! NO!”
“We’ll you don’t have to get upset about it! Go to the administration applet, to the personal settings, open log settings and choose ‘reset’”
“The what? The where?” The ensign replied.
“The Ad…min…is…tra…tion…app…let.” The agent restated as if slowing it down made it any clearer.
“I heard you the first time. I don’t know what that is. Why can’t YOU fix it?”
“I’ll be right there. End transmission.” Then mumbled to himself, “I’ll get better hours if I quit holodeck support. What was I thinking?” He beamed right over, pressed a few buttons, fixed it and beamed out.
* * *
Krag returned to his quarters and turned on the radio.
"K - L - E - S. Klingon Radio. KayyyyLESssssss." was the station's jingle, followed by soft pop music.
To keep their edge, Klingons like to spend there whole lives mad at everything, and nothing helps them get there faster than soft pop music. He opened a pill bottle, took a couple of uppers and laid down on his bed of nails.
* * *
Captain Taylor, still on the beach, now has a tattoo artist working on his left arm.
“Do you really think getting one of your female officer’s name permanently tattooed on your arm is such a great idea?”
“Hey, I the captain around here and what I says you does. You problem that with you got?”
“No, sir. Is her name with two N’s”
“Whatever. You want some of this?”
* * *
The commander was sitting in the captain’s chair and looking for something to do. The fabric of the chair had ripped and had to be repaired with duct tape.
Chief Navigator Miller walked over to Chief Science Officer Lewis. “Hey, have you seen Ensign Decker?”
“You mean Ensign Porker? I have only heard rumors.”
“Yeah, I saw him at the Doctor’s today. Rumor has it that he, get this, DRINKS BEANS! Speaking of that, care to join me for a few drinks after your shift?”
“Sure. I think I will. Let’s invite Rebok, as well.” They both peered in his direction.
Rebok commented, “If you are asking me to join you for some beer or whiskey, I will have to politely decline. Need I remind you that, as a Vulcan, I do not require such an alcoholic beverage………….with that low of an alcoholic content? I prefer Vulcan ale.”
“Vulcan ale? How can you drink that? It’s 200-proof, pure alcohol!”
“Logically, one would assume that if one’s purpose was to enjoy the sensation of being drunk, then one would consume the beverage that would get them there as soon as possible.”
Just then, the red alert beacon came on. “Commander, one Borg cube is rapidly approaching!”
Commander Taylor responded “Raise shields, give as much power is possible.”
Rebok responded, “For the Borg, we will need to divert power from other systems.”
The commander responded, “I guess we will have to divert power from, *sigh*, the holodecks.”
Lewis looked up, “ALL of the holodecks, sir?”
“No. No, I shouldn’t. Only divert power from Holodeck 54!”
“Borg cube entering visual range”
A mechanical voice could be heard over the comm system, “We are the Microsoft Borg. Prepare to be assimilated using the MS assimilation wizard utility. Resistance is futile. Your technology will become integrated into ours, and then we will take credit for it.”
Then, on the screen, appeared the fateful words….”TO BE CONTINUED…”
copyright 2001-2007
-Backstabbing co-workers who will fight over promotions.
-Severe Holodeck addiction
-Klingons using steroids
-playing video games and surfing ebay instead of work.
-lawyers
-crummy tech support
Star Trek: Real World
Stardate: fifty-seven, thirty something.
“Computer, run holodeck program Taylor Beta Seven.”
At that moment, the holodeck began running a simulation of a beach, and Captain Taylor was the only humanoid to be found. About three feet from the crest of the waves, was a pair of beach lounge chairs. Instead of wearing his traditional red uniform shirt and black pants, the captain was decked out in a floral Hawaiian shirt and cutoff shorts. The Captain sat down and thought to himself, “This is a place I could stay for awhile.”
* * *
Several hours later…
On the bridge, Commander Jacobson was quite bored. Although having no reason to do so, he looked at Chief Science Officer Lewis and probed, “Lieutenant, status report.”
Lewis responded, “We’re still in space, sir.” All bridge officers were so out of it that nobody realized the stupid comment. Without missing a beat, Lewis kept playing the game “Jupiter Rising” on his science console. This was after he had gotten bored of surfing StarFleetAmIHotOrNot.com.
With a cup of coffee in hand, Chief Navigator Miller strolled over to the lieutenant. “Working hard, or hardly working?”
“Shhhhhhhhhh! What are you thinking? The commander is right there!”
Upon thinking he heard his name, the commander opened his eyes and pretended he hadn’t been nodding off when he should have been planning for the ISO 35000 certification. “Anybody seen the Captain lately?”
“No, sir,” was the consensus reply.
“Commander Jacobson to Captain Taylor.”
No Reply.
“Computer, Locate Captain Taylor.”
“Captain Taylor is in holodeck 54.” Said the sultry voice of the computer.
The commander thought to himself, “wait a moment. He’s not supposed to be in Holodeck 54! It’s supposed to be MY turn in 15 minute!” He turned and looked at the Chief Security Officer and token Vulcan, Rebok. “Rebok, assemble a security team and meet me outside of Holodeck 54.”
“Aye, Sir”
* * *
A few minutes later in the holodeck…
“Computer, run subprogram Taylor Gamma Sixteen.”
At that moment, a holographic representation of Ensign Jenny McReynolds wearing a two-piece swimsuit came strolling by. “Care to sit down and have a drink?”
“Certainly, Captain,” holo-Jenny giggled.
“Don’t call me Captain. Call me Jeff. Computer, two chilled bottles of red wine.” He thought to himself that this MUST be violating some kind of Star Fleet regulation, but he didn’t care.
Outside the holodeck entrance, Commander Jacobson tried his comm badge one final time. “Commander to Captain Taylor. Pleeeeeeeeeease respond. Please. Please!” No response. The captain had casually left his comm badge off. Despite the on/off button, many Star Fleet officers realized they could deactivate their badge by removing the battery. “OK, he leaves us no choice. Rebok, try to open the doors.”
Rebok walked to the access panel and said , “Computer, try to open the doors.”
“Sorry, unable to comply”
Rebok turned to the commander and said, “It appears the captain has locked us out.”
“Dag nabbit! Captain Taylor has outsmarted us! Any options, guys?”
Ensign Fisher stepped forward and said, “We can beam him out.”
“Excellent Idea! Rebok, do it!”
Rebok poked on the panel for a short while. “The Captain has erected a level 10 forcefield around the holodeck.”
“Fiddlesticks! Is there anything the captain DOESN’T know?”
“Commander, there is the holodeck manual override.”
“There is? Oh, Yes, there is! What does it take to get to it?”
“I’ll have to crawl Jefferies tube 36, open the 5th panel, crawl thru a power conduit, slide down access ramp Tango 24, then rappel down the side wall to the manual release switch.”
“Why did the holodeck designers make the manual override so difficult to get?”
“It should be noted that the holodeck designers seemed to be preoccupied with the holodeck and didn’t focus much effort to future conveniences. I should remind you that no Vulcans were part of the design team. I’ll get right over to that switch.”
“Wait! You’re a valuable member of this crew. Have the ensign do it.”
“Gulp!”
* * *
In his own quarters, new Ensign Decker was on his first star voyage. He walked over to the food replicator. “Computer: one large pizza, pan crust, pepperoni, Canadian bacon and extra cheese, cut into eight slices and a large Mountain Dew.”
The replicator made the pizza to specifications and a small Mountain Dew.
Ensign Decker grumbled for a bit then specified, “Computer, 42 ounce Mountain Dew.
“Aaah, finally. The guys at the Academy were right. You CAN eat pizza every day for every meal and nobody will tell you to stop.” Ensign Decker was the crew’s largest member.
* * *
Still in the holodeck…
Captain Taylor gave another instruction, “Computer: replicate a hemp plant and all of the tools specified in file Taylor Sigma five.”
After working his magic, the Captain was ready to test his product. “Hmmm, this doesn’t quite have the effect I was expecting. Oh, wait. I know. Computer: disengage safety protocols, Authorization Taylor Theta six.”
“WOW, that’s more like it.I Think I’ve found MY new Prime Directive! Yowzers! Want some, Jen?”
Still outside, Commander Jacobson was waiting impatiently. “Ensign Fisher, status report.”
The ensign was rappelling down the side wall when he was paged. “Oh great. I’m using both hands to hold on. How am I supposed to respond? Maybe if I reach around like this… and I flip over like this…and I lean over here. Got it! Uh, Oh….”
The only thing the commander heard was “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” *THUD*
“Ensign did you get the manual override lever and are you o.k.?”
“Uuuugggggghhhh. I don’t know. It’s dark in here. I think I broke my arm.”
“Yeah, whatever. Somebody beam him to sick bay. Sorry, Rebok. It looks like you will have to get the manual release switch after all.”
“Commander, I just found a way to transfer manual release controls to this panel…there…checking…the captain has overridden the manual release as well. We’ll have to think of another way.
* * *
Chief Navigator Miller was strolling down the corridor when he came across the half Klingon weapons officer Krag. “So, how’s the inertial dampeners up there?”
Krag slapped Miller to the floor.
* * *
Ensign Fisher was beamed into the sick bay waiting room. He walked over to the receptionist. She told him, “Hon, I’m going to need you to fill out these forms. The first form asks you to describe your symptoms, the second sheet is a new patient form. Page three is a medical history questionnaire and page four is for insurance information.”
“Insurance information? I WORK FOR STAR FLEET!!!”
“I know. Some people opt out of the plan.”
“New patient form? Shouldn’t you have my entire record on file?”
“Yes, but our policy is that you fill out a new patient form for each new condition. I can get the doctor to come out and explain it to you if you like.”
“One last thing… I BROKE my ARM.”
“You have two arms, right?”
“Yes, but…oh forget it.” After he struggled to fill out the forms, h took them back to the receptionist.
“Thank you, hon. The nurse will call for you shortly.”
Ensign Fisher sat down and waited. The song playing over the speakers was “Summer Samba.” He picked up the latest issue of Alpha Quadrant Quarterly magazine. He looked through the glass window and saw four patient beds. One was Lieutenant Miller with a head wound. Next was crew’s largest member, Ensign Decker taking cholesterol regulators. Two beds were empty.
15 minutes later, Nurse Harris came into the room. “Is there an Ensign Fisher in here?” then saw that he was the only one in there. “Ah, just you. So what seems to be the problem?” as she escorted him to a bed.
“I fell down a shaft. I broke my arm.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. Let me check your blood pressure.”
“I broke my arm.”
“120 over 80. Now, you’re temperature.”
“I broke my arm”
“99.2 degrees. I’ll check your weight.
“I broke my arm. Hey, nurse. Where’s the doctor?”
“He’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“A FEW MINUTES? I broke my arm! It’ll take a few seconds to fix that!”
The doctor is a very busy man. When he has a chance, he’ll come out here and take care of you. Now, sit back and relax.”
20 minutes later, Doctor Stephens came to visit the ensign. He looked at the patient’s chart and scanned the arm with a medical tricorder. “I’m going to have to give you a splint. You’ll wear it for six weeks. You won’t be able to… “
“A SPLINT? Doc, You’re kidding, right? You can just run that fix-y thingy over my arm and heal the bone, can’t you. You do that for everyone else!”
“Well, yes. Normally I would, but your insurance doesn’t cover the ‘fix-y thingy’”
“Insurance plan? I work for Star Fleet!”
“You’re an ensign. Other ensigns know not to break their arms.”
“But…well, ok…what if I give you my holodeck time for next week. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
“All right, but if anyone finds out…it’s your fault.” VROOOOM. “O.k., your arm is healed.
* * *
Ensign Samuels was sitting in his quarters deciding what to say for his daily logs. Daily, he thought that ‘sitting around all day and not doing anything’ wouldn’t sound very good. “I know. Today, I recalibrated the on-board tachyon sensor bank to detect wormholes…or, something like that. It’s better than ‘I waited for the holodeck all day.’
“Computer: begin personal log Samuels A. Stardate 57…”
The computer interrupted, “Unable to perform operation.”
“Why?”
“Unknown”
“O.k., we’ll start over. Computer: begin personal log Sam….”
“Unable to perform operation.”
“What now?”
“The logging program has reported errors and will be shut down”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I feel your pain.”
“This is just great! When am I going to find the time to work on this. I’ve got too many things to do to work on problems like this. I guess I’ll take care of it now.”
Ensign Samuels walked to the telecom center and pressed the help desk number. “Thank you for calling the starship help desk. Your call is very important to us. All calls may be recorded for quality purposes. Press one if you’re reporting a hull breach or imminent warp core disaster. For holodeck problems, press two..or three…or four. For replicators, press five. For communications, press six. For engineering or science stations, press seven. For all other computer systems, press eight.”
“I guess I want eight.” Seventeen minutes of hold music.
The phone was answered. “My daily log program is not working.”
“Right. You need the software department. This is hardware. Please hold.” 21 more minutes on hold. The hold music included selections from a 22nd century composer who went mad and wrote entire symphonies for mandolin and harmonica. “This is Software support.”
“My daily log program is not working.”
“What did you do to it?”
“NOTHING”
“Did you add any programs to your room’s computer?”
“NO!”
“Did you change any of the language settings?”
“No.”
“Any protocol settings, language settings? Timing settings?”
“NO! NO! NO!”
“We’ll you don’t have to get upset about it! Go to the administration applet, to the personal settings, open log settings and choose ‘reset’”
“The what? The where?” The ensign replied.
“The Ad…min…is…tra…tion…app…let.” The agent restated as if slowing it down made it any clearer.
“I heard you the first time. I don’t know what that is. Why can’t YOU fix it?”
“I’ll be right there. End transmission.” Then mumbled to himself, “I’ll get better hours if I quit holodeck support. What was I thinking?” He beamed right over, pressed a few buttons, fixed it and beamed out.
* * *
Krag returned to his quarters and turned on the radio.
"K - L - E - S. Klingon Radio. KayyyyLESssssss." was the station's jingle, followed by soft pop music.
To keep their edge, Klingons like to spend there whole lives mad at everything, and nothing helps them get there faster than soft pop music. He opened a pill bottle, took a couple of uppers and laid down on his bed of nails.
* * *
Captain Taylor, still on the beach, now has a tattoo artist working on his left arm.
“Do you really think getting one of your female officer’s name permanently tattooed on your arm is such a great idea?”
“Hey, I the captain around here and what I says you does. You problem that with you got?”
“No, sir. Is her name with two N’s”
“Whatever. You want some of this?”
* * *
The commander was sitting in the captain’s chair and looking for something to do. The fabric of the chair had ripped and had to be repaired with duct tape.
Chief Navigator Miller walked over to Chief Science Officer Lewis. “Hey, have you seen Ensign Decker?”
“You mean Ensign Porker? I have only heard rumors.”
“Yeah, I saw him at the Doctor’s today. Rumor has it that he, get this, DRINKS BEANS! Speaking of that, care to join me for a few drinks after your shift?”
“Sure. I think I will. Let’s invite Rebok, as well.” They both peered in his direction.
Rebok commented, “If you are asking me to join you for some beer or whiskey, I will have to politely decline. Need I remind you that, as a Vulcan, I do not require such an alcoholic beverage………….with that low of an alcoholic content? I prefer Vulcan ale.”
“Vulcan ale? How can you drink that? It’s 200-proof, pure alcohol!”
“Logically, one would assume that if one’s purpose was to enjoy the sensation of being drunk, then one would consume the beverage that would get them there as soon as possible.”
Just then, the red alert beacon came on. “Commander, one Borg cube is rapidly approaching!”
Commander Taylor responded “Raise shields, give as much power is possible.”
Rebok responded, “For the Borg, we will need to divert power from other systems.”
The commander responded, “I guess we will have to divert power from, *sigh*, the holodecks.”
Lewis looked up, “ALL of the holodecks, sir?”
“No. No, I shouldn’t. Only divert power from Holodeck 54!”
“Borg cube entering visual range”
A mechanical voice could be heard over the comm system, “We are the Microsoft Borg. Prepare to be assimilated using the MS assimilation wizard utility. Resistance is futile. Your technology will become integrated into ours, and then we will take credit for it.”
Then, on the screen, appeared the fateful words….”TO BE CONTINUED…”
copyright 2001-2007
1465
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