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» LCARS » Newspaper: The Federation Tribune » Newspaper Archives » 2005 » Special Edition: 26th of August 2005 » The Silly Fleetwide Story, written by many writers, assembled by Rob Versteegt.
 | The Silly Fleetwide Story, written by many writers, assembled by Rob
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All of you about to read this, beware. This is a story written. by members and ex-members alike, who only saw the last line of the person who wrote a part of the story before them. From there, they were given the assignment to make things as silly as possible. And, if I do say so myself, they have succeeded.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you:
The Silly Fleetwide Story.
Or:
An ordinary day in Frontier Fleet.
At Pandora Station, Commander Jalando had just finished breakfast. Today was a very important day, since today the USS Odyssey would arrive, to get refitted with transwarp. Now this was of course a special occasion on its own. . . but there were also some musicians on board, whom Jeff would really wanted to meet. After all, he had been following the musical concerts, and he had been impressed by the music. Yes indeed. . . even though they were amateurs, their music had been great. With a smile, Jeff put down his plate which had once held his breakfast, and started going to Main Ops, to prepare for the arrival of the Odyssey.
"Ready all phaser banks and raise shields!" he shouted when he ran into Main Ops.
"Why?" Seth asked his FO and looked at him curiously.
"The Odyssey is coming, we have to prepare!"
"Only phasers?" Seth asked. "Don't we have photon torpedoes?"
"Not anymore Sir," Jeff said. "We sold them all to pay for that goldpressed latinum bath tub your currently sitting in."
"Oh yeah, how could I have forgotten that..." Seth said and threw a wet sponge at a random crewman that was passing by. "Pick that up will you, before anyone trips over it."
The crewman bent down to pick up the sponge.
From this angle, Ensign X'ok PaRel could see . . . everything. He remembered the last time he had been in this position. It had started out pleasantly enough, but with his half-Klingon physiology, it had not ended well. A trip to the infirmary for the other man. A lot of embarrassing questions to answer. And, lingering doubts about the possibilities of a long-term relationship. And it wasn't because he hadn't enjoyed himself. Oh, he had enjoyed himself immensely. It's just that the first impression he left was . . . painful.
"The least you could do is clean up your own mess," the crewman said with a frown, and handed the sponge to X'ok. Ensign PaRel looked past the crewman and could see the shattered glass and spilled ale on the floor of Pandora Station's main Science lab. ~Sure. One time in months I go and get a little loaded, and they have a red-alert.~
A Lt. Commander walked up and clapped him on the shoulder. "Sometimes it doesn't pay to go off-duty, does it?" he asked with a smile.
"No, sir," X'ok said dejectedly. He got on his hands and knees and made use of the sponge.
"I asked for you because I knew the Valkyrie had recently been engaged with a Ferengi vessel, and an Orion pirate," said the senior officer. "I thought you might be able to share some of your insights with us, seeing that we've got two raiders asking to dock. Are you sure you're up for this?"
"I'll be fine, sir," X'ok said. He snatched a folder from a nearby console and used it to sweep up the last of the broken glass. He stood up shakily and faced the Pandora science officer. "I believe you said you had some information on the raiders?"
The other officer smiled and pointed at the folder in X'ok's hand. It still held the broken glass, and X'ok had set the damp sponge on top of it.
"Oh," he said. He spun around, looking for a place to dispose of the mess, and plowed right into the crewman who had brought the sponge. He jumped back, his hands covering his face.
"OW," the crewman yelled. "You broke my nose!" Sure enough, blood was streaming down his face. Plus, the folder, the glass, and the sponge were now on the floor. The Lt. Commander looked down at the floor, shaking his head sadly.
"What was it you were drinking?" he asked.
Sirtak put his empty glass on the bar and turned at the young ensign that was seating near him, he was a bit astonished that someone was engaging conversation with him " Romulan ale." he replied
" I thought it was that but I wasn't sure, is it so strong as everyone says?" he asked
Sirtak smiled ~ You, you've just been graduated from the Academy, interesting, a possible prey in perspective ~ he thought in looking at the milkshake the guy was holding " Well, it's not a beverage for children but try it and you'll see." he said in a defiant tone.
The young ensign seemed a bit hurt " I'm not a children, I'm 22 and I've just been graduated, I'm not afraid of tasting your beverage." he replied nervously
Sirtak turned to the barman " Two Romulan Ale please. One for me and one for the young Ensign here who shows great courage."
As the barman was putting the glasses on the bar, Sirtak said " Let me introduce myself, I'm Sirtak Hiortar, I'm owning a jewellery shop here on the promenade."
The Young Ensign took his glass " Pleased to meet you Mr Hiortar, I'm Ensign Lionel Galloway, freshly assigned to Pandora Station, Cheers." he said in taking a sip. He almost choked on the ale " Whoaw, it's strong and it has a strange taste."
" I told you but you've tried, I like that, I like people who aren't afraid to take some risks, You've already taken two since you're here." Sirtak said flattering him a bit.
Galloway frowned " Two, I only see one in trying that awful beverage."
" That was the second one, the first one was when you've started a conversation with me, haven't they told you at the Academy that you had to be suspicious about Romulans." Sirtak replied.
" Oh yes, they told us, they told too that you were our enemies but I prefer to make my own opinion on people." the Ensign declared proudly.
~ By the Praetor, it's a benediction, every RMI (Romulan Military Intelligence)agent would like to meet such a guy, young, freshly assigned and not suspicious.~ Sirtak thought in realising that he had found the perfect people to gain information's." Let me buy you something else and to which department are you assigned ? " he asked curiously
"No thanks Mr Hiortar, I've started that Ale and I intend to finish it. I've been assigned to the recreational department." he stated.
Sirtak frowned " Recreational department, haven't heard of it before, what is it ?"
" Well it's a new department created by Starfleet Command for outer space stations and ships, to improve the moral of the crew and give them more animations. Let me show you." Galloway explained in putting his hand in his pocket, he pulled out a little red ball and put it on his nose, he jumped on the bar and began to make several clowning.
The smile on Sirtak's face disappeared ~ What's that ? ~ he wondered as everyone in the bar was laughing, Galloway had jumped on the floor and he was pulling out flowers and candies from his sleeves.
" You see Mr Hiortar what I was meaning about to improve the moral, but you're leaving, I can show you some others of my talents you know. " He said
Sirtak had stood up from his stool " I think I've seen enough for tonight, good luck with your assignment Mr Galloway." he replied in moving in direction of the exit.
" Thank you Mr Hiortar, I'm starting tomorrow in the Comedy Club of the station. I hope you'll come to see us, I'll send you some entrance tickets." the Ensign declared
" I'll see if I'll have time Ensign. I'll see " he replied in thinking at the report he was going to send to his hierarchy ~ The Romulan Empire doesn't have to worry anymore about the Federation. Starfleet has started to engage Comedians and Clowns. I request a change of assignment before this station will become a Circus.~
After all, with Starfleet people, you never knew. They would soon been flocking here, and there would be no peace. With a sigh, he put on his polished red nose, and walked into the nearest turbolift. There was another door in the opposite wall, which he walked through in turn, reaching the mess hall. There, the Cardassian circus was already in full swing, with the Cardassian visitors that had come to the station the previous day.
"Hello!" A cheerful Cardassian clown walked up to him and poked him on the nose.
"What do you want?!" he asked angrily. The clown shone delightfully at him. "Nothing" it answered.
"Then leave me be." he bellowed and in one swift movement he had punched the funnyman , straight on his smiling face.
The cheerful Cardassian clown immediately started crying.
"Why did you do that for?" it sobbed.
A few moments went by while the contingent of Starfleet admirals tried to formulate a response. They had intended to beam to the Odyssey, but instead ended up here. They had been in tough situations before, but this was far beyond any of them. One of them stepped forward, clearly unnerved by the entire experience. "That is a stupid question!" he said loudly, before throwing a pie in the face of the thing that had questioned them. It was a phrase that Starfleet Admirals often used when presented with an impossible dilemma or a hard-to-solve situation such as this one.
But the Admiral went on. "We did it because it is our right, nay, our duty, to be as silly as possible. Clearly do I remember the day when I was promoted to Admiral: I swore that I would uphold the sacred duty of Starfleet: to baldly be silly where no one has been silly before. So I shaved my head and took ballet lessons."
"Why did you do that for?" asked one of the other Admirals. He was subsequently shoved a pie in his face, much to the amusement of the other Admirals.
"That is a stupid question!" the first admiral said again. "Can you imagine an old Admiral like me taking ballet lessons? Isn't it the most silliest thing you ever thought of?"
The other Admiral saw the logic in the other speaker's arguments. "Well," he said, determined not to ask another stupid question. "I can think of something even more silly." He tapped his comm badge and a large cannon materialised in the room. "This," he said proudly, "is the Frontier Fleet cannon."
Many "oooh"s and "aaaah"s filled the room, but the first Admiral was far from satisfied. "That's it?" he asked. "A cannon? That's a stupid-"
"Not just any cannon!" the other Admiral countered. "It's Frontier Fleet cannon. And not only am I going to fire myself out of it, I'm going to do it blindfolded and bare-footed, while juggling four cannon balls as I fly towards the Delta Quadrant at Transwarp speeds."
The first Admiral was dumbfounded. "You haven't the balls for a stunt like that!" he exclaimed.
The second Admiral's eyes narrowed. "That's where you're wrong. The balls are in the Frontier Fleet cannon. They're the Frontier Fleet cannon balls."
"Frontier Fleet cannon balls?" a third Admiral cried out. "But there's no such thing in my Trek cannon! It'll never work!"
"Hah!" shouted the second Admiral. "You'll think differently when I fire myself from the Frontier Fleet cannon and end up in Transwarp en-route to the Delta Quadrant." He slipped into the cannon and put on a helmet. "Fire me, boy!"
The first Admiral shrugged and walked to the cannon. "Here goes nothing," he said.
And then he fired the Admiral.
Of course, the Admiral With The Big Nose wasn't happy that he was being fired out a torpedo tube. The man was quite angry until some transporter fellow beamed him to safety. "There." Crewman G. Reedy said. "Now I can eat my grand-mothers pyjama's in peace." He put a bit of salt over it and began eating. But he was interrupted by Karl, the Big mean bunny beaming in.
Karl went to the largest shuttlebay on Pandora and ate the Slag. Afterwards, he had a Type-8 shuttle for desert. But then the evil Dr T.Bag showed and turned Karl into a banana peal.
He put the banana peal down in Main Ops and waited.
One would have thought that placing the banana peel down on the deck of Main Ops would have had something to do with the idea of later watching someone slipping on it and subsequently breaking their spine, or at least suffering some sort of contusion or sprained muscle or other. There was, quite frankly, no other logical reason for dropping a banana peel down on the floor like that. If someone wanted to get rid of a banana skin, then they threw it into the replicator or the waste recycler so it could be dematerialised and its atoms recombined into something more useful to society -- something like another banana which, being nothing short of an amazing fruit after all, could be used for multiple purposes.
For example, the ancient tribes of the planet Banarosa II had been renowned for weaving banana skins together into something vaguely resembling a rope, which was then used in the ritual contest that determined their next tribal leader -- a contest which involved skipping using the banana rope until one of those vying for leadership dropped down dead. The winner, although exhausted but clearly the better skipper, would then take charge of the society and command the weaving of more banana ropes, the purpose of which would this time be to restrain criminals or juvenile delinquents while they were stoned to death with apples -- another equally amazing fruit, with almost as many uses as bananas.
But back to the banana peel lying, as it was, on the deck of Main Ops. It wasn't a particularly interesting banana skin, the officer noted as he observed it. Quite plain, in fact: yellowish, with brown blotches. It was probably starting to go off, but ever so slightly.
With a sigh, the officer wondered how much more exciting it would have been had this banana skin been an apple peel. No doubt instead of sitting here watching it, he would have been involved in an epic tale of action and intrigue, with ray guns, Captain Kane, a beautiful and scantily-clad Orion slave girl, and a hapless sidekick who may or may not have been Commander Jalando in disguise. Together, they would have roamed the galaxy in the transwarp Starship Avenger (the U.S.S. Solstice, only with more guns and a cooler name), boldly going where no one had gone before and saving the universe at least twice before supper.
The officer observing the banana peel had almost lost interest when, suddenly, the banana peel did something entirely unexpected. With a sound similar to bare skin being slapped by a wet trout, the peel began to pull itself slowly across the deck plates. His eyes wide, the officer watched this spectacle with unbridled awe. It was clear that the banana peel -- which had to be some kind of sentient lifeform -- was searching out other equally intelligent beings. Which explained why it was heading in the opposite direction to the captain's ready room.
Pausing and taking stock of its surroundings, the banana peel squelched a bit, then turned toward the officer who had been fixing it with an incredulous gaze. Though the peel said nothing, the officer got the distinct impression that it didn't like being considered dull and boring. Clearly, the peel was angry and insulted, and, being from a long line of warrior-bananas, wanted vengeance.
And so it was then that, with an almighty slurping sound, the banana skin ripped itself from the deck and flew through the air towards the officer's unprotected face.
Meanwhile, on the USS Odyssey, the tactical officer looked up at the captain. "Captain, I am detecting a banana skin aboard the station. It has just attacked a person!"
Bennek sprung up from his chair. "Raise shields and arm all weapons. Pandora Station had been taken over already, we are too late..." He looked grimly at the Tactical officer. "We must stop this invasion before it gets completely out of hand!"
"But sir, there are thousands of people aboard Pandora..." the Tactical officer said. "We can't just destroy... Hang on, we're being hailed. It's the USS Valkyrie, Sir. She's on an intercept course. Commander Maiek is ordering us to stand down and lower our shields, or they will fire the mushroom soup torpedoes."
Dirk laughed loudly. Nothing as silly as this was ever heard when he was running a nightshift. "Let's hope they are fresh so that we can enjoy the taste," he said.
"Nah, Pitt, we won't. I heard they have mushroom soup powered shuttles. So it's probably the residue from their engines that has been put in the shuttles!"
Pitt shook his head laughing, "Good point!". But as a former engineer he knew it would be impossible to power engines on any kind of soup. Although he had heard the story circling around a lot at Starfleet Academy. It was said that it was an entry in the survival guide. And a lot of first years took the urban legend story for serious. Well, to be honest, he himself had been tempted to believe it as well, because wasn't everyone awed with Starfleet's knowledge about simply everything when they started their first year at the Academy?
He was wondering when they were to dock. He had even heard that some of the crew were eager to meet their old captain again. A certain fellow called Main. He'd probably believe that Engineering would be his domain since it is called Main Engineering. Then again, if he was a captain, he'd probably be right because the whole ship would be his! And well, hadn't the guy ordered a meal once? Acting like his CEO was a servant?
He himself wouldn't mind seeing some old friends. Or meeting new people. But right now, everyone was in a joyful mood. They would all be among the elite, all among the best. It was time to stop sailing the stars, it was time to start sailing the deepest, darkest depths of... WHITBY! Or perhaps of the transwarp layer.
"Hey Freddy, wouldn't it be a good idea if we installed some bright red lights around our bow? Then we can look like a tomato!"
"Yeah, but mixing tomato's with mushroom soup? Pitt, you don't wanna taste that!"
"You sound like you got some experience with it," Dirk said chuckling.
"Let me offer you some carrot juice first, after you tasted it, we talk."
"What has that do to with it?" Dirk asked.
"I dunno. Does that matter? Just wanna try to redirect the conversation to a different topic," Freddy said with a smart-guy look on his face.
"Hey guys, can you please keep an eye on your consoles. We need to dock the ship safely! Not make a hamburger with one of those saucers of the station!"
"Aye, aye, Sir! Although I had thought with all the food talking we would all like to try and taste a duranium hamburger."
"But Fred, we just had our refit! And you make it sound like you didn't get any recreation at all."
"Not this kind, no, so I'd say, Pandora Station, be aware!"
A collective shudder went through the crew and civilians of Pandora Station. They had heard the words of this person, spoken out over the comm. Everyone on the Station, from lowly waste disposal officer to Admiral. . . from entertainer to businessman and from child to adult. . . everyone was silent. Until someone spoke up. "Okay, done that, now what?"
Another man shrugged. "I don't know. . . I thought you knew?"
The first man shook his head. "I don't, sorry. . . just following orders."
The person who had uttered the words was now stunned in surprise. "You mean. . . you'll all do what I say?" An evil grin appeared on his face. "Then. . . Pandora Station! Act like a dog!"
Immediately, everywhere on Pandora Station, people were howling and barking at each other. Some were scratching their ears -which wasn't easy for those who had the misfortune of being of a bi-paddles species-, and others seemed to have forgotten where the public latrine was, so they simply made their own. Also, the replicators suddenly got a lot of orders to produce large bones. . .
The person who seemed to be in total control now, smiled. This was better than he had dared to hope. He wanted to speak up again, but. . . something happened which he did not foresee. The USS Odyssey had just docked, coming here for a major refit. . . and now the Odyssey crew was walking on the promenade, in the company of several thousands of. . . well, species who acted like dogs.
Before long, the other crews had docked too. The crews of the Calhoun, Odyssey, Valkyrie and Atlantis were all greeted by the First Officer of Pandora Station, who seemed to like the airlock more than the other officers wanted to know. "Please Commander." One of the officers said, disgusted by what he had seen, "We're here for our transwarp overhaul, not to see Starfleet officers acting like idiots!"
"Woof." Was the Commander's unimaginative answer.
"That's enough!" The voice of the person once again said, apparently tired of this rather humiliating scene. "Pandora Station, return to normal again!"
Immediately, the Commander who had just been sniffing the airlock, stood up. "Uhm. . . right, the transwarp overhaul. Follow me please."
While the officers turned away again, this mysterious person looked at several Admirals, who had been standing nearby. "You will get in trouble with this, you know." One of the Admirals said to this person. The Admiral's voice was harsh, and filled with anger.
"No I won't." the person said with a grin on his face. He took a deep breath, and then shouted: "Pandora Station, and the rest of the Frontier Fleet! Make this chain of events non-canon!"
When everyone started doing exactly that, the mysterious person winked at the Admirals. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm fed up with all of this. Just end the story, will ya?"
And that was exactly what was done.
The End.
This story was made possible with the help of the following writers: (in alphabetical order:)
Sussie Andersson, Matt Brown, Patrick Buidin, Richard Clogston, Guido Dorssers, Ruben Hilbers, Bram Peeters, Adrian Rodd, Ben Versteegt and Rob Versteegt.
Thanks to all!
(And just so that you know: this story is non-canon... <G>)
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