<USS Avalon> Re: =/\= Last But Not Least =/\=

ARCTURUS
The Long Arm of the Law
Based on STAR TREK
Created by
Gene Roddenberry
And on a Story & Characters
Created By
Grant Naylor





    Lister was sick. Everyone could see that was a fact. His head was swollen 
so much that he now resembled a rectangular Jack âO Lantern. Right now, he 
was seated on a diagnostic bed in the sickbay of the mining ship Arcturus, some 
three million years away from Earth and a really good curry. The mechanoid 
Coleman arrived, wheeling in a breakfast trolley.
    âGood morning, Mister Lister, sir,â the android said pleasantly. âAnd 
how are you feeling this morning?â
    âOh,â Lister replied weakly. âMuch better, thanks, man.â
    âWell,â the droid began. You certainly look better. I canât believe 
how 
much the swelling has gone down overnight.â
    âYou recon?â
    âOh, most definitely, sir,â Coleman replied enthusiastically. âWhy, 
your 
head was almost interfering with the ceiling fan yesterday. Iâd say that 
youâ
re nearly back to being your old self again. In fact, you can hardly tell youâ
ve got Klingon mumps at all!â
    âCan I have a mirror,â Lister asked.
    The android produced a set of large brake calipers and measured Listerâs 
head accurately. âOh, I donât think youâre ready for a mirror just yet, 
sir. 
Letâs take it slowly, shall we? 
    âWhat did I tell you? The swelling has gone down over twenty centimeters 
since last night. Youâll be up and around in no time!â
    âI donât know what I would have done without you, Coleman,â Lister 
confessed. âYouâve been like the android version of Mother Teresa. Did you 
bring 
me breakfast?â
    âYes, sir,â Coleman replied as he wheeled the trolley in front of 
Lister. âJust as you requested: Hot beer with croutons.â
    Lister scooped a spoonful of the mixture and his face contorted to an 
expression of bliss as he savored the taste. âYouâre the best, Coleman, and 
where are the others? How often have they dropped by with a word of comfort or 
a 
bunch of grapes or flowers or something?â
    âItâs just not been possible, sir,â Coleman replied as he tidied up. 
âI 
havenât heard from mister Tigerhawk and mister Rimmer has been on holiday.â
    âReally?â Lister replied with an arch of a bushy eyebrow. âSo where 
did 
Captain Charisma go?â
    âHeâs been on a touring holiday on the diesel engine decks with two of 
the maintenance droids, the skutters,â the android replied. âA ten-day 
extravaganza of the shipâs internal combustion engine storage rooms. He said 
heâs 
stop by and show you the slides.â
    Lister stopped in mid spoonful and his face took on a worried look. âHe 
didnât, did he?â
    âYes, sir,â the droid replied not understanding the humanâs concern. 
âHe
âs been loading the projector carousels for the last twenty-six hours now, 
sir.â
    âOh my god!â Lister moaned. âThat could really finish me off! And 
where 
the smeg is âHawk, how come he hasnât been by?â
    âWell,â Coleman confessed. âHeâs been rather busy since we found 
the 
stasis pod.â His face grimaced as he realized that he let the secret out.
    âWhat stasis pod?â Lister demanded.
    âOh, spin my hex nuts and call me Frank!â the android cursed himself. 
âI 
wasnât supposed to let that slip!â
    âWell,â Lister began. âYou did, so âfess up!â
    âWe found a stasis pod drifting in space a few days ago,â Coleman 
began. 
âSo we put a tractor beam on it and pulled it in to Hangar 13.â
    âSo whoâs in it?â
    âUnknown, sir,â Coleman replied. âBut all signs show that she is in a 
suitable state for revivification.â
    âShe?â
    âYes, sir. As far as we can tell sheâs a she.â
    Lister tipped the bowl to his mouth and quickly and noisily gulped down 
the rest of his âsoupâ. Then he rose from the bed and began to put on his 
leather cap and jacket.
    âWhat are you doing, mister Lister, sir?â
    âThereâs a woman aboard, Coleman,â Lister replied. âIâm on the 
pull!â

    The skutters, the droids that looked like miniature giraffes with a 
three-clawed head/grip had tugged the stasis pod into a quarantine room so that 
any 
contamination that the podâs exterior may have had could be safely 
eradicated. Lister ran his hand over the podâs worn exterior and read the 
nameplate.
    â âMaria Carapinaâ. What a beautiful name,â Lister said. He 
didnât see 
or hear Tigerhawk â wearing a red silk smoking jacket and black silk trousers 
â
 enter the room.
    âThis is awful,â Lister moaned. âThe first woman weâve seen and I 
look 
like something that belongs up the Sphinxâs nose! Maybe I could wear a turban 
and pretend Iâm from India.â
    âWhy donât you stick a spike in the top of your head and pretend 
youâre 
the TajMahal?â Tigerhawk suggested. 
    âThanks a lot, man,â Lister replied sarcastically. âThanks for 
visiting 
me when I was at Deathâs door.â
    âHave you seen yourself?â Tigerhawk countered. âItâs disgusting! 
You 
could go on a double date with the Elephant Man and he would be the good 
looking 
one!â
    Lister examined the pod and noticed something. âHow come the 
revivification process hasnât been started?â
    âI thought Rimmer did it,â Tigerhawk replied. He pressed a few buttons 
on the keypad on the side of the pod and a display lit up that read, â24 
hours, 
59 minutes, 59 seconds until revivification.â The timer started to count 
down.
    âSo who is she?â Lister asked. âWhere does she come from?â
    âWho cares?â Tigerhawk replied as he caressed the pod. âAt last, a 
date!â

    âSo who says sheâs going to be interested in you?â Lister asked.
    âOh, I see what you mean,â Tigerhawk replied after a few seconds 
meditation. âAll those years alone in deep space might have driven her 
insane!â
    âNo,â Lister continued. âI mean what if sheâs a normal, ordinary 
woman 
who wouldnât go for your type of guy?â
    âThatâs impossible,â Tigerhawk replied. âI would have heard about 
her 
in Ripleyâs Believe It Or Not!â
    âWhat if she prefers someone else?â Lister pressed.
    âLike who?â
    âLike me, for instance.â
    Tigerhawk smiled in pity for his sad, deluded friend.
    âBuddy,â he began gently. âYouâve got a head that looks like a 
mutated 
watermelon. What are you going to do: Paint it orange with black stripes and 
tell her you played for the Bengals?â
    âI just think youâre a little cocky for a guy whoâs never actually 
met a 
real woman before,â Lister said.
    âBuddy,â Tigerhawk replied. âIâve seen mirrors, I know what I look 
like. I have a body that makes men wet! Have you ever heard of an animal called 
the Iranian jerd? It can do 150 pelvic thrusts per minute.â
    âSo?â
    âSo, thatâs me in slow-motion!â
    Rimmer entered the room followed by Coleman.
    âListy!â Rimmer called out jovially. âShouldnât you be in the 
fridge 
with the rest of the cantaloupes?â He then noticed the timer on the pod 
silently 
counting itself down. âWho started the R.P.?â
    âI did,â Tigerhawk replied defiantly. âSheâs in there, so letâs 
get her 
out. Whatâs the problem anyway?â
    âThe problem, Sky-Kitty,â Rimmer began. âIs that this stasis pod was 
ejected from a prison ship that suffered a jail break. There was a pitched 
battle 
and in the end only two survivors: Either a berserk android or the named miss 
Carapina.
    âBut you would have known all this if you had familiarized yourself with 
the black box flight recorder.â
    âOkay, âLister began. âIf itâs not Maria in there, then who is 
it?â
    âOne of the prisoners,â Rimmer answered. âAnd since this ship was 
carrying over forty mass-murdering psychotic, super strong androids, we thought 
it 
prudent to find out who the hell is in there before we attempt to open it!â
    âWith all due respect, mister Rimmer, sir,â Coleman began. âBut they 
are 
cyborgs, not androids.â
    âWhatâs the difference?â Rimmer asked.
    âWell, the biggest difference is that an android would not rip off your 
head and spit down your neck,â Coleman replied.
    âHolly,â Lister began, calling for the shipâs computer. âCan we 
stop 
the revivification process?â
    âNope,â the computer replied. âItâs a one-way process.â
    âCan you scan the inside of the pod so we can figure out whoâs in 
it?â 
Rimmer asked.
    âNo,â Holly replied. âI can scan it only enough to tell that there is 
someone inside it, but the pod is shielded to protect it from stellar 
radiation, 
so I canât actually penetrate it with the sensors.â
    âWell there must be something we can do!â Lister said.
    âThere is,â the computer agreed. âAll we have to do is wait until the 
RP 
is completed. Then, if you find all your limbs scattered all over the ship 
and your neck filled with cyber-saliva, then you can probably safely assume 
that 
itâs not Maria.â
    âWhy donât we grab ourselves some phaser rifles,â Tigerhawk 
suggested. â
That way, if it is one of these bad-assed killer cyborgs dudes, we can blast 
him into oblivion!â
    âSir,â Coleman replied. âThese type of combat cyborgs are heavily 
armored. They could easily withstand phaser fire at close range, at least long 
enough to make balloon animals out of your intestines.â
    âWell,â Rimmer began. âLooks like thereâs no choice then. We have 
to 
blast it back into space.â
    âSay its not a cyborgs,â Lister protested. âYou canât just shoot an 
innocent woman into space, especially since weâve already activated the pod. 
If 
it is Maria, sheâll wake up in the vacuum of space. Sheâll die!â
    âWhat a dilemma!â Tigerhawk said. âInside this pod is either a date 
or 
certain death. Either way, Iâm willing to take a chance!â
    âMeanwhile,â Rimmer began. âThe RP is continuing and we still have no 
ideas as to what to do!â
    âI have an idea,â Holly replied. âThe black box contains the 
coordinates 
of the prison colony their ship was heading to. They must have facilities 
that could handle the cyborgs, if it is one. If it is Carapina, then we release 
her, and if its not, we can throw the cyborgs into a holding cell and leave it 
to rot.â

    âGood idea, Hol,â Lister replied. âSet a course at best speed!â
    âYou are all assuming,â Rimmer said. âThat the colony is still there 
and 
functional.â
    âThere is an old android saying,â Coleman began. âThat says, âIf 
you 
execute a go sub, youâll never get a subroutine.ââ
    âWe have a human saying,â Lister replied. â âNothing ventured, 
nothing 
gained.ââ
    âI think the android version has more panache, sir,â Coleman replied.


    The Arcturus couldnât get up to speed necessary in the time frame 
required to get the crew to the prison colony before the podâs countdown 
concluded, 
but the medium freighter they had salvaged from the ship where they had found 
Coleman called Beetle 1 (there were two of them) could, so they loaded the pod 
aboard and Holly downloaded himself to Beetle 1âs mainframe and they left the 
Arcturus for the prison colony. 
    The prison colony was an old Klingon starbase that was given to the 
Federation for use as a prison. Lister was up front with Tigerhawk while Rimmer 
was 
with Coleman in the lounge area showing the android his slides of his holiday 
in the diesel decks. 
    âDo you have to sit up here?â Tigerhawk demanded as he piloted the 
craft.
    âItâs warmer up here,â Lister replied. âIt helps my gunge.â
    âI canât see anything,â Tigerhawk protested. âYour head keeps 
getting 
in the way of the mirror. In fact, your head keeps getting in the way of the 
viewport!â
    In the lounge section, Coleman was sitting in a chair, mouth agape with 
an otherwise dull look on his face. Rimmer was talking and gesturing to a green 
painted diesel generator.
    âWe reached this beauty on the second day,â Rimmer was saying. âA 
Daimler-Chrysler 40-valve 10-cylinder air-cooled diesel, the Series 18. Itâs 
almost 
identical to the Series 17, but can you see the difference? There are 
refinements to the funnel edges.â
    Coleman just sat there with a look of pain on his mechanoid face.
    âI thought,â Rimmer continued. âThat weâd never see another one 
like 
this, so we camped out under the fuel pump for the night. Thereâs a funny 
story 
about that, but Iâll tell you later otherwise we wonât get to any of the 
Caterpillar or Detroit diesels if we donât push on.â
    âSir,â Coleman interrupted, his voice slow and pained. âCan we take a 
break for a while, please? It appears that my intelligence circuits have 
melted.â

    âBut weâll not get through them if we take a second break,â Rimmer 
protested.
    âWith respects, sir,â Coleman replied. âThatâs a chance Iâm 
willing to 
take.â
    Suddenly, there is the sound of a soggy explosion and a scream of disgust 
from Tigerhawk. Both Rimmer and Coleman look alarmed, especially when they 
see Tigerhawk slowly and stiffly walking into the room covered in thick yellow 
pus.
    âHis. Head. Burst,â the felinoid said in horror.
    Lister came in behind Tigerhawk, covered in the same thick yellow pus, 
his head back to its normal size.
    âMy god, I feel better,â Lister said happily. âTalk about a weight 
off 
your mind!â He ran a finger through the pus and absently licked it clean. â
Looks like its bath night!â and he left to head for the shower.
    âI donât wanna live!â Tigerhawk moaned in disgust. âSomebody 
please, 
shoot me in the head!â

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