Mutiny


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Episode Ten — Mutiny


". . . and I think we have it.  Yes, I'm getting the signal.  We
have a confirmed Bingo.  We have a Bingo.  (Laughs.)  Boy, that
was close."

"-ptain's Log, stardate 49604.8.  After brief but intense
negotiation with the incoming Borg government we have been
impressed by the Borg's desire to proceed at once to the planet
Cauda Linea to begin colonisation.  Our science department's
explanations of the influence of the microscopic spoilers on the
recent Borg election have fallen on deaf, or should I say,
deactivated ears.  It appears that we shall have to do without
the Borg ship's warp capabilities shortly.  I have prevailed 
upon Empress Natasha Polaroid to at least give us a lift as far
as the Mu Cuniculi system, where the renegade Battle Section
remains in concealment.  It is now imperative that we regain
control of that section and reunite the Enterprise.  Meanwhile we
continue to monitor the movements of the three Ferengi vessels. 
In the few hours since they exited the wormhole they have
crisscrossed the cluster, vying with one another for right of
first refusal of each system's resources."
     The door chimes.
     "Come."
     Data: "Captain, the Borg are signalling their intention to
proceed."
     "Very good, Mr Data.  Please tell them . . ."
     The scene rocks.  Data staggers back and forth.  Picard
grips his desk as his chair swivels this way and that.
     Shot of the Borg Cube swinging around in space.  It rises up
below the Saucer Section and locks a network of blue tractor
beams into place around the docking interface.  The reunited
Borgoprise pivots on one corner and blasts into warp speed toward
the Mu Cuniculi system.
     "Please tell them to start whenever they are ready."



"Crawlspace: the final frontier.  These are the voyages of the
Door Repair Guy.  His mission: to install and maintain proximity-
activated entranceways, to stake out new rooms and new service
conduits -- to boldly go where no one with a pass key has gone
before."


     [Music: Please note: this evening's episode has been
orchestrated by Frank Pellico, organist at Chicago Stadium, home
of the Chicago Blackhawks, and played by him entirely on the
Barton pipe organ.  The characters are aware of the music on an
unconscious level only.]


                    Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

     Whoosh! (the Battle Section)

                         Starring 

                         Door Repair Guy
                         as Himself

     Whoosh! (the Saucer Section/Borg Cube)

                         Also Starring

                         Patrick Stewart
                    as Captain Jean-Luc Picard

     Whoosh! (the Battle Section again)

                         Jonathan Frakes
                    as Cmdr. William Riker

                         Michael Dorn
                         as Lt. Worf

                         LeVar Burton
                    as Lt. Cmdr. Geordi LaForge

                         Gates McFadden
                    as Doctor Beverly Crusher

                         Marina Sirtis
                    as Counsellor Deanna Troi

                         Brent Spiner
                         as Lt. Cmdr. Data


[Commercial: Don Cherry:
     "I am often imitated, but never replicated."]


     [Music: Star Trek fanfare.]
     View of the ringed planet Mu Cuniculi XII.  The Borgoprise
approaches and moves in close, the rings passing one by one
overhead.  Abruptly the blue tractor beam link between the Saucer
and the Cube blink out of existence.  The Cube loops about and
shoots off toward Cauda Linea.  The Saucer, using manoeuvring
thrusters only, rises upward into the plane of the ring system,
where it disappears.


     View of the Battle Section in parked orbit behind the
moonlet Snowplow.
     A transporter room.  The door opens and Doctor Selar enters. 
She approaches the lone crewman at the transporter console.
     "Crewman."
     "Doctor.  Can I help you?"
     She holds a medical tricorder up and takes a reading.
     "Please roll up your sleeve."
     She takes his pulse.
     "As I feared."
     "What is it, Doctor?"
     "Tell me, crewman, have you been getting enough sleep?"
     "Not the usual amount, Doctor.  With the reduced crew
roster, many of us have been working watch and watch."
     "Meaning alternating work and rest periods of four hours?"
     "Yes.  I haven't had an eight hour sleep for two weeks.  Not
that I'm complaining!"
     "Understood.  Permit me to feel your neck muscles."
     "Ouch!"
     "You are very tense.  I will massage you."
     "Oh.  OOOoooooh.  Ah!"
     "You have not been in space a long time, have you, crewman?"
     "This is my first assignment.  I came on board four months
ago."
     "I thought as much."
     Pinch.  Thud.
     The door swooshes and the security guard Ursula enters,
accompanied by Door Repair Guy.  Ursula comes over to the console
and begins to input co-ordinates.  DRG attaches a code encryption
module to the door lock control and waves his cap on the way out
the door.
     "Ciao, babes!"
     The door closes and the little lights on the encryption
module begin their random sequence.  Dr Selar gazes at the closed
door for a moment, thinking.
     "Are there many like that among you humans?"
     Ursula looks up from her work.
     "The history of space travel is full of heroic figures."
     "I see."


     The battle bridge.  Riker leans sideways in the command
chair, his face in his hand, his elbow perched precariously on
the armrest.
     "zzZZZZzzzZzZzzzzz."
     The ensign at Ops swings his chair around and takes a good
look.
     "Mind your post," warns the tactical officer.
     The ensign at Helm swings around as well.
     "He's snoring!"
     The tactical officer leans forward and whispers loudly and
threateningly, "He hasn't had a night's sleep for two weeks!"
     "He needs a rest, all right.  A long one."
     "He's a better man than you!  Mind your post!"
     "He'll ruin us all!"
     The tactical officer pulls a phaser.
     "ZzzzZzzzzzZzZZ  What?  Snork.  MMph. . . . . . zzZZZrrr . .
. . . zZZzzzzrrr."
     "You nearly woke him!  Back to your posts!"
     The two ensigns return to their posts, exchanging ironic
glances.


[Commercial:
     "The new 1994 Stutz Bearcat.  It *is* what it *was*.]


     [Music: Star Trek fanfare.]
     The rings of Mu Cuniculi XII.  They fill the screen, curving
away, one after another, almost like snowfilled furrows on a
plowed hillside.  Stars gleam like frozen dew in the furrows. 
While we are pondering this farfetched simile the Saucer rises
out of one of the gaps, skitters sideways across the arc of one
of the rings, and disappears again into the next gap.


     The brig.  Present are Worf and the annoying lieutenant from
"Suspicions" at the security console, as well as a couple of
security guards who are lying in the corner with their tongues
stuck out of the corners of their mouths.  The annoying
lieutenant looks over in their direction.
     "You're sure they'll come out of it?"
     Worf glances over his shoulder.
     "Eventually.  Do you have transporter interface ready?"
     The annoying lieutenant taps the console display in three or
four places.
     "Just activating override lockout now.  There."
     Someone raps on the door.  *Knock knock.*
     "The signal."
     Worf: "nuqneH!"
     A muffled voice: "bIQ."
     Worf: "qatlh!"
     "bIQaD."
     "It is he."
     The annoying lieutenant enables the door from the console. 
Door Repair Guy slips in and the door closes again.
     "Operation Slush Bucket is set up and locked in."
     Annoying lieutenant: "It's not called that!"
     "Is now."
     Worf: "Gentlemen!  Phase two is about to begin.  Are you
both ready?"
     "Yes sir!"
     "Yes sir!  Three bags full."
     "Must you joke?"
     "I must!"
     "GENTLEMEN!"


     Picard leans over the back of the Ops chair, glancing from
the Ops console to the main viewscreen.  On the big screen the
rings spread away in a compressed mass ending suddenly in stars. 
The nearest ring drifts past like a river full of every size of
ice.  Several kilometres away the prow of a huge hunk of ice and
stone rises above the ring plane, knocking ring material aside as
it rolls along.  Through the spraying wake of this moonlet can be
seen dimly the shapes of the Battle Section's nacelles and
interhull, like a ship's superstructure seen above the ocean's
swells in a heavy snow.
     "Extraordinary.  Is this what it was like hunting down the
Bismarck along the Greenland coast?"
     "I do not know, sir.  I was not present on that occasion."
     "Ahem.  Mr Data, are we within transporter range yet?  The
sooner we can begin to skim their slush deuterium tanks the
better."
     "We are now within transporter range.  However, the Battle
Section already appears to be offloading large quantities of
deuterium.  The space surrounding the ship shows expanding
pockets of the isotope, and the rate at which it is breaking down
into single hydrogen atoms and diffusing would suggest that it
has only just now entered the vacuum of space."
     "Can the Battle Section have suffered a rupture?"
     "No, sir.  There is none in the immediate area of the ship. 
The deuterium is definitely being beamed out of the storage tanks
by someone aboard that ship."
     "Then let us advance to the next stage of our plan.  Mr
Data, please join Lt. Cmdr. La Forge in the staging area."
     "Aye, sir."
     Data exits, and Picard returns to the command chair.
     Troi: "Captain, I'm concerned about this boarding operation. 
Boarding parties rarely come through without casualties."
     "Noted, Counsellor.  You can rest assured that every effort
is being made to avoid casualty.  So long as we maintain the
element of surprise I have every confidence this will go well."
     He tugs his uniform hem, she folds her hands in her lap, and
they both look away in opposite directions, in case either should
see the look of worry in the other's eye.


[Commercial: Blue Cross.]


     Geordi holds up a phaser.
     "You've each been issued a specially adapted phaser.  We
have re-engineered these to remove settings six, seven and eight. 
Instead, they'll have settings one through five as well as three
new settings located below setting one, namely, three-quarter,
one half and one quarter.  Three-quarter setting will cause
extreme disorientation but not unconsciousness.  One half setting
will cause wooziness and some numbness around the impact area. 
One quarter setting will . . . well, it's hard to describe."
     Data speaks up: "What Lt. Cmdr. La Forge is trying to say is
that the impact will feel approximately the same as being struck
by the flat side of a wet three-pound perch thrown underhand from
a distance of ten feet."
     "Ah, yeah.  Thanks, Data.  We have made these modifications
because we realize that those people over there are our
shipmates.  Some of them are friends, some of them are family. 
This operation depends on speed and surprise.  It may be
necessary to shoot.  We want you to be confident that if it
should come to that, you will have the option of protecting your
loved ones without endangering the operation.  You have your
assignments.  Are there any questions?  No?  Then please proceed
to your designated transporter site."


[Bob:
     "Okay.  Back to Star Trek: Door Repair Guy in a moment. 
From time to time Paramount Studios sends out promotional videos
to the TV stations that air Star Trek, and usually we, meaning
the people who work at the station, are the only ones to see
them.  Well, not this station!  Keeping in mind our motto of `All
Star Trek, all the time,' here's a clip from the latest Paramount
video entitled `Where Do They Get Those Ideas?'"
     Shot of the writers' bullpen at Paramount.  Sofas line the
walls.  A coffee machine boils away in the corner.  A secretary
with a laptop computer sits on one of the sofas, taking notes. 
Two writers are hunched over a table with a model of the
Enterprise bridge between them.  One of them holds a Worf action
figure.  The other has Troi.
     "But Worf, what about the Ruling Council?"
     "Oh, forget the Ruling Council.  Can't you see what I'm
trying to tell you?  I love you.  I can't go on without you."
     Secretary: "I don't think Worf would say that."
     "Oh and you can do better."
     Secretary: "How about `Once I have secured control of the
Ruling Council I will make you my consort and together we will
blaze a trail of glory across the firmament!'"
     "Hey, that's good!  Write that down."
     Bob makes his how-about-that face.]


[Commercial:
     "Where does the owner of Little Caesar's Pizza get those
great ideas?"
     Shot of writer's bullpen in an office tower on Madison
Avenue.  Two writers are hunched over a table with a model
highway, a toy convertible and a miniature produce truck.
     "Buck buck BUCK!  Splat."
     "That's it!  Pizza with a fried egg on top!"]


     The Battle Section.  Engineering.  About half a dozen
crewmembers are present when an equal number of armed boarders
materialize.  For a tense moment the boarders stand back-to-back
with hands poised by weapons.  The engineers gawk.  Suddenly
someone shouts, "Charlie!"
     "Laura!"
     "Samuel!"
     "Cheiko!"
     "Oksana!"
     "Aramathea!"
     "Filipona!"
     "Zorg!"
     [Music: Auld Lang Syne."]


     Battle Section computer core systems monitor room (_Star
Trek: The Next Generation_ Technical Manual, page 50).
     Two crewmembers are seated at separate work stations across
the room from each other.  One looks up and says, "Lieutenant,
I'm getting some weird rerouting on my board here.  Someone is
dedicating subprocessor 241 to transporter control and routing an
auxiliary command path through the console in the brig."
     "That is strange.  Let me have a look at it."
     The transporter effect.  Two security guards appear.
     "Say, now, where's your authorization?"
     Whap!
     Whap!
     "Erf!"
     "Yoiks!  What was that?  A fish?  Hey, wait a minute.  I
know you!  I nearly beat you in Klingon biathlon in the
interdepartmental semifinals last month!  You're from the Saucer
Section!"
     "Buddy!"
     "Pal!"


     A corridor in the Battle Section.  Two crewmembers walk
along: Anita, a slender blonde ensign fresh out of the Academy,
and Darryl, a thirty-fiveish planetary geologist with an
incipient bald spot.  Darryl is speaking.
     "And were you aware that Mopsan Continent Three's eastern
coast enjoys weather conditions analogous to those of Southern
California?  I believe it would be a wonderful place for a
vacation."
     "Aren't there a lot of ferocious sabretoothed chipmunks in
that part of the planet?"
     "A security force field would be easy to erect.  You know,
we may end up having to settle down there."
     "You don't believe we're going to get back, then?"
     "We have to face facts.  That wormhole is totally elusive. 
That's what the astrophysicists are calling it.  An elusive."
     They walk past a corridor junction.  The camera allows them
to continue on their way while it pauses to watch the figures of
Susan and Bernice materialize in the side-corridor.  They creep
stealthily to the corner, eavesdropping on the ensign and the
geologist, who have stopped outside the ensign's quarters.  When
Susan recognizes Darryl's voice she starts and grabs Bernice's
arm.  Bernice grabs Susan's arm to keep her from jumping around
the corner and blowing their cover.  She hauls Susan's face up to
hers and makes a silent but emphatic "Shh!"  Susan complies but
all her body language says it's driving her nuts.  They listen.
     "Anita, this wormhole emergency has been hard on all of us. 
What I mean is, will you spend the night watch with me?"
     "But Darryl, your wife."
     "Oh curse her.  Don't you realize she's been assimilated by
now?"
     "Oh, Darryl, it's not right.  So soon after . . . ."
     "She's not dead.  She's just got . . . more parts.  She's
such a technofreak, anyway."
     "Well, I don't know."
     "You like me, don't you."
     "Well, sure."
     "All the beachfront you want.  I promise."
     "Gosh, Darryl . . . ."
     By now Susan has gone through the various stages and arrived
at plain old boiling mad.  She holds up her phaser, advances the
setting to heavy stun and steps around the corner.
     "Hello, Darryl."
     "Susan!  Honey!"
     WHAM!  He hits the turbolift door at the end of the
corridor.
     Anita shouts "Eek!" and stands looking down the corridor in
a posture of complete surprise.  She turns back toward Susan and
shouts "Eek!" again, throwing her hands up above her head.  Susan 
lowers her phaser, velcroes it to her hip, and puts her hand on
Anita's shoulder.
     "Don't worry, kid.  It's for the best.  You're way too good
for him."
     [Music: "Some Enchanted Evening."]


     The main bridge.  The officer at tactical reports: "Boarding
parties reporting in, sir.  No serious casualties.  All points
secured."
     Picard: "Good.  Very good.  Do you have a lock on the
command chair?"
     "Aye, sir."
     "Beam the occupant to the main bridge."


     The battle bridge.  The ensign at Ops leans slightly toward
the ensign at the Helm and points at the Ops display.  The ensign
at the Helm leans slightly toward the Ops display, and glances up
at the ensign at Ops in surprise.
     The tactical officer: "What are you two conspiring about?"
     "Nothing."
     "It can't be nothing.  What is it?"
     "Nothing!"
     "Quiet!  You'll wake Commander Riker!"
     At this moment Riker jerks awake, sits up in the command
chair, rubs his eyes, and disappears in a transporter effect.  A
moment later Worf appears in the chair, swings around, and says,
"Cmdr. Riker is under arrest.  As highest ranking officer on
board I assume . . ." before he too disappears in a transporter
effect.


     The brig on board the Battle Section.  Riker materializes in
the security cell.  He stands up from the bench, saying, "What
the . . . ," and catches sight of the annoying lieutenant.
     "Commander Riker, I arrest you in the name of Starfleet and
the United Federation of Planets.  Anything you say . . . ."
     Riker makes a rotating hand gesture meaning, "Yeah, yeah,
I've heard all this before."
     ". . . . until a court martial can be convened.  Can I bring
you some dinner, sir?"
     Riker's eyebrows go up and he breaks into a grin, wagging a
finger at the annoying lieutenant.  He yawns, sits down again,
slumps over on his side, and immediately begins to snore.


     The main bridge.  Worf appears in a seated position, rocks
backward on his heels and throws one hand out behind him, doing a
sort of Cossack dance step to avoid landing on his butt.  He
leaps up and shouts, "Who's in command of the Battle Section?"


     On the battle bridge the tactical officer leaps into the
command chair.
     "Helm!  Warp speed!  Let's get outta here!"
     "Very good, sir.  Engaging warp speed now."
     Nothing.
     The tactical officer stabs a button on the armrest.
     "Engineering!  I need warp speed."
     *I'm sorry, sir.  The slush deuterium tanks are bone dry!*
     "What the . . . ?"
     Transporter effect.  He finds himself seated in the security
cell beside the snoring Riker.
     The annoying lieutenant claps his hands together and rubs
them with satisfaction, turning toward Door Repair Guy at the
security console to order him to beam him up to the bridge.  He
catches the last glimmers of Door Repair Guy's personal transport
effect.
     Door Repair Guy materializes in the command chair.
     He sits back, cracks his knuckles, and says, "Hailing
frequencies, please."
     "Hailing frequencies open."
     "Agent Door Repair Guy to Captain Picard.  The ship is
yours.  Please send a boarding party at your convenience."
     *Well done, technician.  Boarding parties are already
converging on your location.  Is there an officer on the bridge?*
     "Yes, sir, two or three."
     *Then get out of that chair*


[Commercial:
     Krell and Brothers, Doorhangers.
     "lojmItmey DIpep.  poS bIH.  SoQ bIH.  DaQaw'laHbe'.  'e'
vI'Ip."
     "We build doors.  They open.  They close.  You cannot
destroy them.  I swear it."]


     View of the Saucer and Battle Sections in close formation
above the clouds of Mu Cuniculi XII.
     Picard: "Ensign, I believe I'll take this one."
     "Very good, sir."
     Picard takes the Helm and inputs the requisite commands,
frowning from the console display to the viewscreen and back
again as he guides the two vessels together manually.
     Slowly the two vehicles draw together.  The docking latches
engage.  There is a satisfying thump, like a large door closing
and locking.
     Picard turns to the rest of the bridge crew, a huge smile on
his face.  He holds his hands up in triumph.
     "Ales for everyone!"
     [Music: "Heart of Oak".]


     The brig.  Security Guard Ursula Braun sits at the security
console, a picture of professional detachment and efficiency. 
She is composing her report on the clandestine manoeuvres of
certain mutinous elements within the Battle Section's crew. 
Whenever her own name comes up she smiles happily despite
herself.  Riker and the tactical officer sit disconsolately in
the security holding cell, elbows on their knees and chins in
their hands.  Riker sighs.  The tactical officer throws him an
angry glance and says, "One thing, Commander.  Just what the hell
is the Riker Manoeuvre, anyway?"
     Riker makes a gesture in the air with his two hands.
     The tactical officer sits back.
     "That's the Sulu Manoeuvre."
     Riker straightens up.
     "No it isn't.  This is the Sulu Manoeuvre."  And he
demonstrates with his hands.
     "It's the same."
     "Not a bit."
     "Sure it is.  You've just turned the attacking vessel 90
degrees and rolled left instead of right."
     They exchange glares and sit stewing for a while.  After a
moment the tactical officer sighs and puts his chin back in his
hands.  Without warning Riker's fist shoots out and boxes the
tactical officer on the ear, sending him flying off the bench.
     "Think of that as the Riker Manoeuvre if you prefer."
     [Theme from Rocky.]


     View of the reunited Enterprise in orbit around the ivory
and beige gaseous giant.  
     [The music begins with a tastefully restrained Star Trek
fanfare, then, just at the moment when you wonder if it's going
to segue into the original series theme or the Next Generation
theme, the organist pulls out all the stops and dives into "Na Na
Na Na, Hey Hey, Goodbye".]

--
Written by Douglas A. McLeod (ai919@freenet.carleton.ca)
--

Episode Ten — Mutiny

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