<USS Avalon> Re: =/\= Last But Not Least =/\=
- From: AJRimmer2k5@xxxxxxx
- To: avalon@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Fri, 28 Jan 2005 23:35:25 EST
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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