SSSSS t TTTTTTTTTT kk SSSSSSS tt TTTTTTTTTT kk SS SSS tt TT kk SS SS ttttt aaaaa rr rr TT rr rr aaaaa kk kk sssss :: SSSS ttttt aaaaaaa rrrrr TT rrrrr aaaaaaa kk kk sssssss :: SSSSSS tt aa aa rrr TT rrr aa aa kk kk ss ss SSSSS tt aaaa rr TT rr aaaa kkkkk ssss SSS tt aaaaaa rr TT rr aaaaaa kkkkk sssss SS SS tt aaa aa rr TT rr aaa aa kkk kk ssss SSS SSS tt aa aa rr TT rr aa aa kk kk ss ss SSSSSSS tttt aaaaaaa rr TT rr aaaaaaa kk kk sssssss :: SSSSS ttt aaaa aa rr TT rr aaaa aa kk kk sssss :: MMM MMM ll t ii MMM MMM ll tt ii MMMM MMMM ll tt MMMM MMMM eee ll ttttt ii nn nnnn ggg gg MM M M MM eeeee ll ttttt ii nnnnnnnn ggggggg MM MM MM MM ee ee ll tt ii nnn nn ggg ggg MM MM MM MM eeeeeee ll tt ii nn nn gg gg MM MM MM MM eeeeeee ll tt ii nn nn gg gg MM MMM MM ee ll tt ii nn nn gg gg MM MMM MM eee ee ll tt ii nn nn ggg ggg MM MMM MM eeeee ll tttt ii nn nn ggggggg MM M MM eee ll ttt ii nn nn ggg gg gg gg gggggggg gggggg PPPPPPP t PPPPPPPP tt PP PPP tt PP PP oooo ttttt PP PPP oooooo ttttt PPPPPPPP ooo ooo tt PPPPPPP oo oo tt PP oo oo tt PP oo oo tt PP ooo ooo tt PP oooooo tttt PP oooo ttt Star Traks: Melting Pot is based on Alan Decker's Star Traks, which in turn is based on Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry, may he rest in peace. Welcome to the Second Season of Melting Pot - who'da thunkit? Copyright 2006. "So Happy, Together" by Paul Cloutier If only we'd stop trying to be happy we could have a pretty good time. Edith Wharton Captain's Log; Stardate 58244.4 - Commander Ustrano has been working diligently on improving what it calls "Instant Armor" deployment. The first time this technique was tested its utilization resulted in the ship losing sensors, phasers, torpedos and every other external system. Commander Ustrano has since corrected those problems, or so it believes. The test today will determine just how effective these new processes really are. We are at station keeping, deep in space, to run these tests undisturbed and unobserved. While the introduction of polyiridichromnium as a new general armor for Starfleet ships would be a great boon, the distinct possibility that it would be misused still deters us from making the production techniques required to produce it general knowledge. "Helm acknowledges all stop, Sir," Lieutenant Dil Mantron reported. "Very good, Dil," Banjo, the ship's Changeling First Officer, answered. "Commander Ustrano reports all systems ready in Engineering," Lieutenant M'Dral reported from Ops. "Sensors detect no other ships within scanning range," Lieutenant Gisech reported from his Security Console. "Automatic recording and analysis systems active," Lieutenant Commanders B1 & B2 sang from the Science Console. "Sounds like we're ready, Sir," Banjo reported, turning to Captain Seetamyn. "Agreed. Have Commander Ustrano proceed," the captain ordered. "Ustrano," Banjo said, tapping his commbadge, "its all yours!" "Proceeding with Instant Armor deployment!" the gravely voice of the Velvattian came over the comm system. "Deployment systems initialized! Stage One Deployment beginning... Stage Two... Stage Three... Deployment sequences complete! Instant Armor deployment successful!" "M'Dral?" Banjo asked. "I'm reading an approximate 2% loss of sensor effiency, Sir," came the reply. "Gisech?" "Activating phaser arrays! Targeting systems online! Firing 10% test beams! Beams shot out from the ship in various directions as Gisech ran the phasers through an extensive diagnostic. "Phaser array test complete! Phasers performing within acceptable parameters! Moving on to torpedo test!" Practice loads shot out from the ship in a multitude of directions over the next several minutes. "Torpedo test complete! Torpedo launchers performing within acceptable parameters!" "Ensign Zamtra," Banjo called out after activating his commbadge, "initiate transporter test." And so it went. Test after test of the Menagerie's ability to interact with the space around it was performed and all of them were passed! The first round was over - now for round two! These next tests were ones with which Ustrano was supremely confident. At the same time, they were the hardest to perform. Not because of any particular technical obstacles, mind you. No, these tests required that the USS Utricularia undock from the Menagerie and then fire upon the larger ship! The problems arose simply because no one really wanted to fire on their own people. Finally, Gisech and Banjo ordered Ensigns H'uee, D'uee and L'uee, three of the ship's security detail, to perform the tests. Ustrano had been working for the past two months automating as many of the Utricularia's systems as it could. The ship could now be handled by three officers and a small engineering contingent. In fact, Ustrano, alone, could handle the engineering duties, although, if humanoid staff were used, it would take three of them. Since there was no expectation that the ship would ever be out of transporter range, only the Bridge would be occupied during these tests and the Saber-class ship's warp drives wouldn't even be brought online. The three Klingons piloted the Utricularia a short distance away from the Menagerie and set the ship's phasers at low-power testing levels. Then they opened fire! On board the Menagerie, the Bridge was unusually quiet. Even though they knew that the ship was protected by the Foreenan's miracle metal, and even though they knew that the Utricularia was only firing low-power shots, everyone held their breath as the first shots came in. "Damage report!" Banjo ordered. "No damage registered, Sir" Gisech answered. "Continue testing," Seetamyn ordered. And continue, they did. The Utricularia slowly increased its power settings, bringing potentially more and more damaging beams into play. The Menagerie withstood them all. Finally, they were ready for the final test. The Utricularia would fire every phaser, simultaneously at 125% power (Ustrano had been systematically upgrading the Utricularia's plasma conduit with polyiridichromnium coatings). This would exhaust nearly all of the ship's reserve power, but that had been deemed an acceptable risk. After all, the Menagerie's new armor should be able to handle even this onslaught. The beams leapt away from the smaller ship like tigers attacking their prey. The claws and teeth of raw energy tore and bit at the seemingly defenseless ship with ravenous fury - to no avail! Even these deadly beams were reflected harmlessly back into space. ".2% reduction in armor reflectivity," Gisech reported. "I believe that we can live with that," Seetamyn announced as the rest of the Bridge broke into whoops of excitement. "Congratulations, Commander," Seetamyn told Ustrano, over the comm, "your new deployment system seems to be a complete success. Can you still remove it as quickly?" "Of course, Sir!" came the Velvattian's reply. "I'll begin removal, now." "Belay that!" M'Dral suddenly shouted, bringing everyone's eyes to focus on first her, then the main viewscreen. Something was definitely wrong with space in front of the ship. For one thing, the color was all wrong. Normal space certainly shouldn't look like that. Had any of the crew been familiar with everyday life on twenty-first century Earth, they would have said that it looked like someone had dropped some oil into space. The greenish-brownish 'sickly-rainbow of a puddle formed on hot pavement' appeared as a wavering 'cloud', hanging in space. "Analysis?" Seetamyn requested. "It appears to be some sort of dimensional subspace distortion effect, Sir," B1 & B2 reported. Everyone on the Bridge nodded appreciatively. This was the most creative technobabble that they had heard in quite some time. "What is a 'dimensional subspace distortion effect'?" Banjo asked, realizing it was time for some exposition. "Well, if a ship was crossing dimensions at high warp, it would make an effect like that," the Bynars explained. "So, we should expect company?" Banjo asked. "Yes, Sir!" came the immediate response. "Ensign H'uee! Position the Utricularia so that the Menagerie is between yourselves and the distortion effect." "Sir, that will use nearly all of our remaining reserve power!" H'uee pointed out. "Understood," Banjo acknowledged, "but we don't have time to re-dock the ship right now. We'll keep our Shields down and a transporter lock on you so if anything nasty comes out of that we'll be able to get you back here, safely." "Aye, Sir," came H'uee's somewhat hesitant response, but even the Klingon realized that with no power reserves and no warp drive, there wasn't much else that he could really do. "Maybe its some of Tellat's people come looking for him?" Lieutenant Mantron offered hopefully, thinking back to the alien that they had rescued some time ago and who was now on board the USS Aikido, hunting enemies from his own dimension. "Unlikely," disagreed Seetamyn. "Remember his dimension did not use warp drives." "Oh! Right!" Dil replied, annoyed that his hopes had been dashed. "Something's coming through!" M'Dral puffed, pointing at the emerging vessel. Sure enough, a silvery object was beginning to poke out from the distortion effect. A rounded forward section was soon followed by two cylindrical extensions, all three parts connected by an underslung central section. The ship looked nearly exactly like a Federation Nebula class cruiser! "Transponder code identifies USS Roadrunner!" Gisech announced in amazement. OK - that explained why the ship looked like a Federation ship! Seetamyn and Banjo turned to look at Dil Mantron. The Helmsman's mouth had dropped open and he just stared at the ship on the viewscreen. Before being assigned to the USS Menagerie, Lieutenant Mantron had bounced from ship to ship, constantly being re-assigned as it was discovered that he had no psychic abilities. What no one had realized at the time, was that these re-assignments were simply manifestations of Dil's Luck Eater ability. For, as it turned out, five of those previous ships had been destroyed soon after Dil's leaving. A sixth ship had simply vanished with no trace. That sixth ship was the one that they were now looking at - the USS Roadrunner! "Hail them, Lieutenant," Seetamyn ordered M'Dral. "No respone, Sir!" M'Dral reported. "Sir! We are reading some sort of energy build up on the Roadrunner!" B1 & B2 announced. "What is it?" Banjo asked. "It's that!" M'Dral shouted as the Roadrunner's deflector dish suddenly sparkled to life, emitting a torrent of energy at the un-Shielded Menagerie! Fortunately, the ship, although un-Shielded, was far from unprotected. The incoming energy beam hit the polyiridichromnium armor that surrounded the ship and... bounced? The reflected beam tore through space back towards the Roadrunner. Before anyone there could even think about reacting, the ship was engulfed by the beam. Energy crackled along the Roadrunner's hull as the massive charge tried to ground itself. Finding no way to discharge itself, the energy was then drawn towards the ship's nacelles where it found the warp drive's supply of anti-matter. Saying the resultant explosion was spectacular was like saying 'The Mona Lisa' was a pretty picture. The light from the explosion overwhelmed the viewscreens on the Utricularia. Only the fact that the small ship had been behind the much larger Menagerie had kept it from being tossed about like a child's toy. As the viewscreen filtering software valiantly tried to compensate for the excessive brightness, the screens slowly returned to normal, showing the empty area of space where the polyiridichromnium tests had been being carried out. 'Empty' as in 'no other ships around'! The Menagerie had vanished! "Ummm what do we do now?" asked Ensign L'uee. "We should use what available replicator power we have to make some water," decided Ensign H'uee. "Why?" asked Ensign D'uee. "Well, we may be here awhile. "We'll need to try to survive," explained H'uee. "I know that!" argued D'uee. "I mean, why not replicate Blood Wine? It doesn't require any more energy than water." H'uee could find no reason that they should not have a real warrior's final dinner. After all, the ship was nearly out of reserve power. The Menagerie was gone. They had no hope of being rescued. Blood Wine was sounding better and better! After exhausting the replicators' power reserves, the trio of Klingons returned to the Bridge. H'uee shut down every system except for life support. "We have about forty hours before we begin to run out of air," he announced. "What do you want to do?" "I know a game that Ensign Diftur taught me," offered L'uee. L'uee taught the simple rules to H'uee and D'uee and the three started. "One-Two-Three!" "Rock!" "Rock!" "Rock!" "Tie! Let's try again!" Somewhere in space, a graceful, stylistic ship glided through the endless night. The ship had the four-nacelle'd configuration of a multiple independant geometry type ship, although the blue glow associated with such nacelles was absent. These nacelles had a peppy, sequencially blinking glow and shone with pinks, greens, blues and yellows. The normal silvery appearance of the rest of the ship had been replaced by a day-glo camouflage-pattern of wildly clashing colors. The ship looked, to put it mildly, a bit unusual. On the Bridge of the unusual ship, sat several familiar-looking individuals. Well, familiar-looking at first glance, anyway. A tall, patrician Vulcan sat in the Captain's seat. He seemed to be staring directly ahead, intently concentrating on something. He was also the spitting image of Captain Seetamyn! However, when you got close enough to him to clearly see his face, you noticed a few abnormalities. Like the way his eyes seemed to be looking in two different directions at the same time. Or the way that a thin trickle of drool seemed to slip from his lips. Perhaps even the occassional "Cool!" or "Groovy!" that also escaped from those lips. Next to the Vulcan was a Changeling. This Changeling bore a striking resemblance to Commander Banjo. But there were subtle changes here, too. The way his arm would unexpectedly elongate out and then flick one of the other Bridge officers on the back of the head was one such subtle difference. Manning the Security Console was the short, stocky form of a Graaken. You might have thought that this Graaken was Lieutenant Gisech if it weren't for a few minor, yet telling signs to the contrary. The way he would suddenly grab the metal chain around his neck and bite it as though he were trying to rip it from his body, was one minor difference. Seeing the Security Chief biting his chain, the First Officer pulled on the chain and yelled sharply,"Down Gizmo, down!" The Graaken broke off his attempts and sat back, scratching his head with one foot. "Good Boy!" the First Officer soothed him, reaching over a small, bone-shaped treat that the Security Chief eagerly gulped down. Further forward, manning the Helm Console, was an immensly huge person, his banana-like fingers continually dipping into a 55 gallon barrel of heavily buttered popcorn that seemed like a permanent fixture next to the console. Next to this mountain of a man was a seemingly completely normal Benzite woman, wearing a large cowboy hat. What she was doing there was anyone's guess. Finally, a small, bald man was stationed at the Science Console. He, too, appeared to be relatively normal. Just then, the Benzite woman made an announcement, "Ya'll listen on up! We've a got us a ay-nounce-ment a comin' in from the Admrl!" "Thank you, M'Drawl," the Changling replied. "Put him on screen." The main viewscreen sprang to life, showing an elderly Vulcan man. One might have thought that they were looking at Admiral Sontak. Well, except for the big red wig and bright blue rubber nose that the Vulcan was wearing, that is. "Commander Guitar! I'm 'Happy' to report that I have a new mission for you!" "I'm very 'Happy' to hear that, Admiral!" the Changeling replied, slipping his arms forward to give a wedgie to M'Drawl and the Science Officer. He was only partially successful in this endeavor, however, since the Benzite was, apparently, not wearing any underwear. Sensing his failure, she turned around and stuck her tongue out at the Changeling. He immediately responded by sticking his out too, all the way out - as it stretched all the way to the Ops Console and licked the impertinent Ops Officer! "The Roadrunner was successful in returning to the UnHappy Universe. They should be able to find any number of ships there to make Happy and return to us to help fight against the rebels! You are to make your best possible speed to the sector where they slipped dimensions and wait to welcome new arrivals!" the Admiral ended this speech by squeezing his nose, twice. The rubber nose made a decidely perky "Squeak, squeak!" "That sounds like a Happy Time to me!" Guitar answered. "A Happy Time it will be! Sunnytak - out!" "Ya'll! We've a got the coo-oo-oo-oo-ord-in-ates and we're a ready ta scoot!" M'Drawl reported. "Crdnts ld n nd rdy t ngg!" the Helmsman said, around mouthfuls of popcorn. "Lieutenant Man-ton, engage!" "Estimated time to arrival - oh who cares? It's all so pointless! Why? Why, do I have to be all alone? Especially with my underwear up over my head? Why? Why? - 16 hours, Sir!" the Science Officer reported. "Very well, B4. That may be just enough time to rouse the Captain from his latest overdose!" The Funship Menage-a-Trois slipped into warp, leaving multicolored afterimages burning the retinas of anyone unfortunate enough to have seen her go. Pain was the first sensation that Lieutenant Mantron registered. Next was darkness, followed almost immediately by the peculiar feeling of weightlessness. Of course, he was lucky to be feeling anything, he supposed. Polyiridichromnium armored or not, the Menagerie should have been blown to bits being that close to a warp core breach coupled with that extra amount of energy that the USS Roadrunner had been channeling. He wondered how they could have possibly survived. Of course, the way that he felt right now, maybe not surviving would have been better! Slowly he became aware that the darkness was slightly less than it had been before, and, as that realization sank in, he suddenly recognized that he could see pretty. well! Looking around the Bridge, he was amazed to find it pretty much intact. No crashed bulkheads. No smoking panels. No fallen debris. If the power had been fully on, he would have been hard pressed to notice anything wrong. Well, maybe the unconscious and still forms of most of the rest of the Bridge crew could be considered as something wrong! Spinning around and pushing off against a console, he glided over to M'Dral. She had lost her respirator in the blast, but Dil managed to find it and strap it back in place in front of the Benzite's mouth. She seemed to be in good shape, except for various bumps and bruises. Although without a medical tricorder, he really couldn't be sure. Such was the case for the rest of the Bridge crew, too. Banjo had reverted into a sphere of goo, part of a Founder's natural recuparative process. Dil made a note to try and keep an eye on him if the gravity came back on - he really didn't want to have to go chasing a Banjo-ball down a corridor! Speaking of which, he decided it was time to try to contact somebody else. Tapping his commbadge, he tried to get in touch with the one person that could, possbly straighten this mess out, "Mantron to Ustrano! Can you hear me, Commander?" Seeming as though it was coming from miles away, the faint, tinny sound that came back sounded very little like the Velvattian, "Ustrano here! How are things up there?" "Everyone else is unconscious! All systems are down and there's no gravity!" Dil reported. "That's the story for the whole ship, I'm afraid," Ustrano replied. "That shockwave shattered nearly all of our dilithium crystals and started a pretty severe feedback loop throughout the entire power system. I've had to shut down everything. We're lucky the commbadges can even work and even they're using their own broadcast power and not ship's systems. I need you to try to get to one of the shuttlebays and see if there are any usable crystals on any of the runabouts or shuttles. I'm going to have to rebuild the entire chamber down here with whatever crystals we can scrounge up. Hopefully I can do it before we run out of air!" "I'll see what I can do," Dil promised as he opened up the jefferies tube in the floor of the Bridge and began the long trek down to Shuttlebay One. Captain's Log; Stardate 58248.7 - We have restored minimal power to the ship, allowing artificial gravity, life support and sensors to be returned to functioning status. The ship, itself is in remarkably good shape, due to a combination of the poly- iridichromnium armor and, I am sure, Lieutenant Mantron's Luck Eater ability. It appears that, by the most improbable of chances, we have been thrown through the dimensional rift that the USS Roadrunner created when it first emerged back into our dimension. The crew is also in surprisingly good shape. The only real medical emergency occurred when Yeoman D'thlangolier, the Andorian pastry chef, fell into a large pot of frosting and was nearly drowned. Fortunately, Doctor Pish was able to suction enough frosting out of D'thlangolier's thoracic cavity to save the Yeoman. In other good news, I have been informed that cupcakes will be half price today. I have had several dozen delivered to Briefing Room One to serve as refreshments for today's Briefing. "Well, tell us the bad news," Banjo, who had been handling more and more Briefings, lately asked Ustrano. "Well, we're actually in pretty good shape," the Velvattian replied, slipping out a tentacle to snag another tasty cupcake. "Structurally, we're fine. I'd like to go over the hull with an accelerated particle scanner to check for micro-fractures, but that can wait until we next put in at a Starbase. Right now our main problem is power. I've rebuilt and recalibrated the dilithium crystal chamber to utilize the few crystals that we've been able to salvage from the runabouts and shuttles, but a full power load would overwhelm us. We can't raise Shields, or fire phasers right now, but, assuming we don't go into battle, we should be alright. I've limited replicator power on the ship, but the runabouts' replicators are all accessible, at least as long as their batteries hold out. We got lucky there, the mag-clamps that hold down the runabouts and shuttles are all on independant power systems, so the auxilary craft weren't sent flying throughout the shuttlebays." "How about speed?" Mantron asked, eating his third cupcake. "You have up to Warp 7, any more than that and we'll start burning out crystals," Ustrano answered, this time spearing two cupcakes and flipping them into its mouth. "We can fire torpedoes though, right?" Gisech asked concerned as he delicately peeled the paper off the bottom of his fourth cupcake. "No more than two at a time," Ustrano warned, "and not while we're travelling at over Warp 5.5!" "OK - we're in power conservation mode until we find a new source for crystals," Banjo summed up while slipping another cupcake into his mouth. "Now, any idea where, exactly, we are?" M'Dral quickly finished the cupcake in her hand before replying, "Yeth, Thir!" Ok - maybe she didn't /quite/ finish it. Banjo patiently waited for her to continue, taking the opportunity to help himself to another cupcake. "The Killer Bs and I analyzed the frequency of that energy beam that the Roadrunner fired at us. We have come to one in-escapable conclusion," she looked to the Bynars for support and they nodded their heads, their mouths too full of cupcakes to reply. "We have somehow been transported to what Command calls the 'Happy Universe', or 'Happyverse', for short." "'Happy Universe'? That doesn't sound too bad," Hirthnole offered, slipping a cupcake into his mouth. "Unfortunately, it is very bad. Apparently, this universe was created when Captain Alexander Rydell accidentally erased his own existence by sending his consciousness back in time, into the body of his own, many-times great grandfather." "Wait a minute!" Banjo exclaimed, shooting tiny bits of cupcake out of his mouth. "'Rydell'? Wasn't he that guy that was going to help the Bouffantans after they had become Lounge Singers?" "Yep, that's him!" M'Dral confirmed. "By the Great Link! What do we have to do to get away from that guy?" Banjo, got another cupcake to try to console himself. "What is it that makes this universe so bad, as you mentioned?" Seetamyn asked as he claimed one of the quickly vanishing cupcakes. "Apparently, some sort of madmen from the planet Ugilous managed to create some sort of transference ray that drives anyone struck by it insane. They called themselves the 'Happies' and pretty much conquered the Quadrant. They formed a government called the United Federation of Fun. As you might be able to guess from the name, the United Federation of Planets was the first group to fall victims to them. Certain rebel groups formed from people who were either immune to the ray's effects or who managed to get transformed back to normal, but information on the current state of affairs here is very slim. Apparently we are the first ship in several years to get stuck here." "Wait a minute!" You mean there's likely our couterparts here? Counterparts who have been driven insane by this 'transference ray'?" Mantron asked, so upset by the thought that he needed two more cupcakes to calm his nerves. "It is very possible," admitted M'Dral between bites of her latest cupcake. "So we may very encounter insane duplicates of ourselves. If we do, we can't fight back and we can't effectively flee. Is that right?" Gisech asked, swiping the last cupcake. "It appears so. In which case we will just have to out-think them," Seetamyn observed. "To start with, I believe that we should immediately alter our command codes so that our counterparts will not be able to take control of the ship. After that, I think our best course of action is to try to find someone who can help us return to our own universe." "I doubt if we'll find many sympathetic faces here," Banjo answered. "I was not thinking of going to anyone with a face," Seetamyn returned. "No face... I know! The OverMind!" Dil shouted excitedly. "Exactly. It is unlikely that our insane counterparts could have penetrated this universe's Omega Configuration. We will head there at Warp 6.8 and, with a little luck, be safely hidden behind that radiation field before anyone knows that we are even here." Everyone agreed that this was a sound plan and the Briefing was just about to break up when Seetamyn asked one more question, "By the way Doctor, how is Yeoman D'thlangolier?" "He's doing much better, Captain. Once I managed to get all the frosting out of his chest, he improved dramatically!" "Fr, fr, frosting," Dil stammered, remembering that he hadn't seen Jantoo eat any of the cupcakes. "Yes. The poor man fell into a mixing vat of it and had it crammed down his throat and nose into his chest." Seetamyn couldn't remember when when a Briefing had broken up quite so quickly. "W hv rrvd!" Dil Man-ton announced from Helm, this time talking through a mouthful of rice, a huge kettle of which had replaced the barrel of popcorn that had been next the the Helm Console, earlier. Guitar had once placed a handful of maggots in one of Man-ton's rice kettles, but the massive Betazoid had munched them down without comment. Guitar was quite sure that he would eat pretty much anything. "Any ships in the area?" Guitar asked, unobtrusively grabbing some rice from the kettle and slipping it down B4's tunic. "Setting sensors to maximum... Why? Why me? To be alone - here in the depths of space! Alone with nothing but a handful of rice down my back! Why? Why?... no ships on any scanners. However, I am... Why? Why?... reading a recent ion trail heading away from here." "Do ya'll reckon we ought to be a-following that there trail?" M'Drawl asked. "I'd better consult with the Captain," Guitar decided. Making his way over to the replicator, he requested, "One half liter of water, 1 degree centigrade." The request arrived with the customary sparkle of energy and Guitar carefully carried the glass over to where the Captain had fallen into a restful slumber. When he had reached the Vulcan's side, Guitar splashed the chilled liquid into the Captain's face! "Blub, blub, bherr... Status Number One." stammered out the Vulcan. "Captain Acetaminophen, we have reached the sector where the Roadrunner crossed the dimensional barrier. We have not found any other ships, but we have found a recent ion trail. Do we stick around and wait for another ship to show up or do we follow the trail, Sir?" "Hmmm, let me think a moment. I think I need something to help me to clear my mind." Acetaminophen made his way over to the replicator, "Acetaminophen mood supplement number 614!" he demanded. Quickly swallowing down the small cup of pills that appeared and chasing them with the glass of syntheholic whiskey that accompanied all of his mood supplements, the Captain made his way back to the central command platform. Taking his seat, he brought his hand up and rubbed his chin, deep in thought. Finally he spoke, "Ya know what?" he asked. "What is that, Sir?" Guitar asked. "I really should have taken mood supplement number 416, not 614! Ooooooh! Look at the pretty butterflies!" he said, and then collapsed, falling out of the chair and onto the floor, a twitching, giggling mess. Shaking his head, Guitar tapped his commbadge. He really hated to do this, but he wasn't authorized to proceed on his own. "Guitar to Mistress! Guitar to Mistress!" "Yes, yes, my pet. What is it?" came the sickly sweet voice of the ship's Mistress. "Mistress, we have the choice of waiting where we are for a new ship to show up or following an ion trail of a ship that has recently left the area. Which would you prefer?" "Oh, better a bird in the hand than a hand in the bush!" came the giggling reply. "So... follow the trail," Guitar guessed. "Of course my sweet. You get on that. I'll come up to the Bridge and join all of you shortly. Bye-bye!" "You heard the lady," Guitar said. "Follow that trail! Warp 9!" "Yeeeeehaw!" M'Drawl exclaimed The Menage-a-Trois's Mistress wasted little time getting to the Bridge. Pushing the still-twitching form of the Captain out of the way with one of her bare feet, she slipped into the captain's seat. Gizmo pranced over to her side and she absentmindedly stroked his head as the ship chased down the source of the ion trail. The chase didn't take very long. "I'm reading something on... Why? Why continue? All alone!... long range scanners, Mistress!" B4 announced. "On screen," she ordered, standing up in a dramatic fashion, her exceedingly diaphamous dressing gown swirling around her. The main viewscreen switched to show a tiny, silver ship, heading away from the Menage-a-Trois. "Identification?" Guitar inquired. "Transponder code is a-readin'... NCC-76453! But, that'd be us'n?" M'Drawl said confused. The Mistress' face broke into a huge grin as she laughed, "Not us! Our UnHappy counterparts! By Nandegar's Secret! The Roadrunner brought back a great prize! Imagine the chaos that we can spread amongst the rebels with /two/ Funship Menage-a-Troiseseseseses!" She frowned, slightly, as she realized that she didn't know exactly what the plural of 'Menage-a-Trois' was. "Are we within communications range?" Guitar asked, slipping a hand over to the Helm Console to steal a couple of anchovies, Man-ton's latest snack. He then, carefully placed them on B4's head so that the Bynar wouldn't notice them. "Communications range in... Why? All alone! Alone and smelling like a victim of a fish mugging! Why? Why?... three minutes!" "Man-ton! Push us up to Warp 9.5!" The corpulant Helmsman moved to comply when the main viewscreen suddenly switched to a view of Main Engineering. Waving its tentacles in an agitated manner was the ship's Chief Engineer, Commander Elstrango. "Hey! Slow us down! We're going waaaaay too fast!" "What are you talking about?" Guitar demanded. "This ship is rated for cruising speeds up to Warp 9.9!" "But that was before the whoziwhatzitz went on the fritz!" Elstrango tried to exlpain. "What the Hell is a whoziwhatzitz?" Guitar wanted to know. "You know! The whatchamacallit that controlls the framitz!" "You're just making that up!" "Look all I can tell you is that the big blue thing in the middle of the room is going 'thrumm', 'thrumm' and rings of light keep flashing through it!" Wearily, Guitar sighed before replying, "You mean that the Warp Core is channelling more and more energy given off by an increasingly active matter-anti-matter intermix?" "Oooooooooooooh! That sounds so technically!" Elstrango gushed. "Yes, but its also perfectly normal!" Guitar shouted. "Just go back to work!" Guitar sat back in his seat, sorely tempted to try one of Acetaminophen's mood supplements. For some odd reason he was feeling decidedly unHappy at the moment! "Sir," Lieutenant M'Dral suddenly said, "we're being hailed!" "Well, since we cannot fight and we cannot flee, logic would dictate that we must talk to them. On screen, Lieutenant," Seetamyn ordered. The picture that flashed on the main viewscreen was nearly enough to silence even the normally verbose Vulcan. It was like looking at a reflection of themselves, although what dark, distorted mirror could possibly create such a reflection was not one that any of them ever wanted to see. The only difference was the woman standing in front of the captain's seat. She was wearing (if that was the correct word) the tiniest, pinkest string bikini that any of them had ever even imagined! Over this she had thrown on a gauzy, scarf-like piece of fabric that did nothing to conceal any of the expanse of exposed flesh. The image might have been a bit more attractive had the woman not been a Klingon, however! In her hand was a chain which wrapped around the neck of the Happyverse version of Gisech. Her other hand was petting the Graaken as one would a puppy. As gasps of horror and disbelief echoed around the Bridge, the woman began to speak, "Hello there! I am Thong, Mistress of the Menage-a-Trois of the United Federation of Fun! We welcome you to our glorious empire!" Behind the Mistress, Commander Guitar had extended his arms behind the heads of M'Drawl and Man-ton and was using his fingers to make bunny-ears behind their heads. Seetamyn was the only one on the Bridge able to speak. Apparently it would take even more than a trip to an alternate universe and a meeting with a ship crewed by the hideous alternates of his own crew to silence him! "We thank you for your welcome, but I must inform you that we have no intention of staying." The image of Mistress Thong ceased its prancing. "What?" she raged. "You're not Happy! Those idiots on the Roadrunner have failed! Security! Board that ship! Bring me that crew so that I might administer the delicate adjustments of a personal transference ray treatment to them!" "Ummm, sorry Mistress but we can't," Guitar whispered. "What do you mean 'we can't'? I want some new playthings. You're not telling me that I can't have new playthings, are you?" "Mistress! The transporters are off-line! Remember, Elstrango thought that a mud-bath using the bio-neural gelpacks would help relieve stress. It used all of the transporters' gelpacks to fill that jacuzzi down on level 4. Ensign Mantra has been working double-time to get things back in order but its going to take him a while, still." "Oh yes! Now I remember! Well, at least it made Elsrango Happy for a while," she sighed contentedly. Keeping her crew Happy made her Happy, too! "Ensign Mantra!' she called out after tapping Guitar's commbadge (her 'uniform' really offered no comfortable place to pin one). "Yes, Mistress!" came the eager response from the young Tamarian. "How much work is left before the Transporters are back online?" "Mistress, is it not said - 'If you enjoy what you do, you'll never work another day in your life.'" "What?" Thong cried, not understanding the Tamarian's quote. "Just get back to work!" "Ah Mistress, 'The superior man is modest in his speech but exceeds in his actions.'" "Oh whatever!" Thong sighed again, this time much less Happily, "I guess we'll just have to destroy them, then! Gizmo! Open fire!" The Menagerie shook slightly as phaser fire from the Menage-a-Trois was harmlessly reflected away by their polyiridichromnium armor. "Sir!" Ustrano's rumbly voice came over the commsystem, "if they are the same as us, wouldn't they have the same command codes as we do?" "We already had B1 & B2 scramble our codes when we realized where we were," Banjo reminded the Velvattian. "I was thinking more of /us/ using the codes against /them/," Ustrano corrected. "Why aren't they fleeing faster?" Thong asked as the ludicrously slow-speed chase continued. "I would surmise that they must have sufferred damge during their trip from their universe into ours," Guitar guessed. "It is likely that they simply can't go any faster," idly tossing a ball across the Bridge for Gizmo to fetch. "Ya'll! We've a-got us an incoming comm!" M'Drawl drawled. "On screen," Thong commanded. The image of Commander Banjo appeared on the Menage-a-Trois's main viewscreen. Of course, it appeared upside-down since the settings had gotten slightly messed up after Man-ton had lost a game of Pong to M'Drawl and acidentally shorted out the control console while giving her an extremely moist raspberry. "Mistress Thong! How delightful to see you again. I was comming to see if you might consider stopping shooting at us, pretty please?" "Oh! He's sooooo polite," Thong purred coquettishly, batting her eyelashes at Banjo. It was a good thing that Banjo had nothing on his stomach (after that whole frosting incident) otherwise he would have lost his lunch right then and there. Guitar simply drifted into the background, mimicking 'He's sooooo polite' as he hung a sign that read 'Kick Me!' on B4's back. "Wait a minute! I'm getting... Why? Oh! Why me? All alone and by myself and being kicked by everyone all the time! Why, oh why?... an incoming binary signal piggybacked onto that comm!" B4 announced, suddenly. "What!?" shouted Thong. "It's initiated our... Why? Why? Alone and unloved! Why?... Warp Core dump sequence!" B4 shouted back. The ship lurched to a stop as emergency lighting came on, bathing the Bridge in a garish pink glow. Thong had had those awful amber bulbs replaced ages ago! The main viewscreen switched to a reverse angle view, showing their Warp Core drifting away behind the ship. Suddenly the Menagerie zipped into view, tractoring in the abandoned Warp Core and flitting away. "Thanks very much!" Banjo acknowledged, as the Menagerie flitted away. "Well, at least he said 'Thank you'," Thong observed philosophically. "Elstrango! How long until you can replace the Warp Core?" Guitar demanded. "The what?" came the confused-sounding reply. "The big blue thing that goes 'thrumm, thrumm'," Guitar answered, shaking his head slowly. "Oh! That thing!" Elstrango replied. "Ummm, well, first I gotta find the spare..." "You lost the spare!?" Guitar would have been pulling out his hair. If he had had any, that is. He reached over to pull out some of B4's, and then remembered that the Bynar didn't have any, either. He almost thought about yanking out some of Man-ton's but he was afraid the Betazoid might decide to sit on him, so he contented himself with stretching out a leg and kicking Gizmo. Of course he angled the kick in such a way so that Gizmo thought it had been B4 who had kicked him. The Graaken jumped on the innocent Science Officer, chewing and scratching at the Bynar's leg as the helpless man could do nothing but scream and ask "Why me?" over and over, again. Not very far away, the Menagerie had come to a full stop as Ustrano, Mantron, Banjo, Hirthnole and Gisech rapidly removed the dilithium crystals from the purloined core. Ustrano gathered the salvaged crystals and quickly reconstructed a new dilithium chamber out of them. Slipping the new chamber into place in the Menagerie's core, the Velvattian brought the ship back up to full power. The process had taken them nearly two hours. This was plenty of time for a competent Engineer to replace a Warp Core, so Ustrano was quick to allow Mantron to get them back on their way - this time at Warp 9.9! Mistress Thong had retired back to her quarters to wait for the Menage-a-Trois to be repaired. Guitar had passed the time amusing himself with kicking the still- protrate form of Captain Acetaminophen and listening to the change in tone his kicks created in the Captain's babbling. "How long has it been?" he asked disinterestedly. "Years! Years! All alone! for years! Years!" "No, I meant since Elstrango started on the Warp Core replacement!" "We've all bin a-waitin', oh, about three hours, now, Commandah!" M'Drawl replied. "Elstrango! How much longer on that Warp Core?" Guitar commed. "Oh that! I kinda forgot..." Elstrango answered. "You forgot to replace the Warp Core!?" Guitar jumped to his feet, accidentally kicking Acetaminophen in the testicles as he did so. The nearly comatose Captain called out, "Oh baby! Oh yeah! No more Pon Farr blues for me!" before rolling over and beginning to thrust his groin rhythmically against the pedestal of B4's seat. "Oh no!" Elstrango defended itself. "I replaced the Core! I just forgot to tell you, that's all!" "Have we made any progress on extrapolating where they might be headed," Guitar asked. "Yes, Sir," B4 answered. "It appears... Why? Why me? Always, always me! All alone. Alone with my Captain humping my chair! Why? Why?... that they are headed for the 'Really, Really Mysterious Configuration'!" "The 'Really, Really Mysterious Configuration'?" M'Drawl exclaimed, surprised. "Now what in tarnation would they be a-doing heading there, for?" An evil, evil grin split Guitar's face. "I believe I know exactly what they are planning," he laughed with a truly evil laugh. "M'Drawl! Contact the I-Kid-You and have them rendevouz with us at the 'Really, Really Mysterious Configuration'. We'll have a nice little surprise waiting for the Menagerie!" Guitar's evil laughter was echoed by the rest of the Bridge crew, its terrifying effect only slightly diffused by Man-ton's huge burp in the middle of it. Shaking his head, again, Guitar tapped his commbadge, "Repair crew to the Bridge! Man-ton has melted the main viewscreen with another Dorito burp, again!" Meanwhile, several parsecs away, the crew of another ship was in the middle of a very delicate maneuver. The Funship I-Kid-You was dealing, as only it could, with the Cattreth problem on Pimento Three. "Steady, steady," Tell-it-to-someone-who-cares encouraged Captain Thorne. "Oh be careful, Sir" the ship's First Officer, Justine Monsterass pleaded, terrified that something awful might happen to their beloved Captain. "Oh father, do take care," cautioned Alex, the Captain's son and the ship's brilliant, precocious favorite little boy. "Hurry, Sir" Lieutenant Spear and Ensign Cordlessphone begged, struggling with the apparatus that was supporting the Captain's precarious position. "Ost-amay ot-gay t-iay!" Ivor Metalhead encouraged, speaking the pig-Latin that he knew brightened everyone's day. Finally Thorne retrieved the object of the mission and climbed down the ladder. Holding out the rescued, purring Kitty-Cattreth to its overjoyed owner, the Captain struck a heroic, manly pose. A light breeze drifted out of nowhere, ruffling Thorne's heroic, manly hair and causing the heroic, manly cape that he was wearing to billow even more heroically out behind him. The Captain's strong, white teeth glowed as he posed for the crowd of adoring admirers that invariably showed up whenever he was around. Holding up his heroic, manly hand he announced (in his heroic, manly voice), "Now, now. No need to thank me. Just doing my job as a a representative of the United Federation of Fun! Where our motto is: Happiness for Everybody!" The deafening cheers that answered that heroic, manly (and, yet, somehow modest) proclamation were tumultulous. Several women fainted. And then a couple of men fainted, too. The heroic, manly captain and his heroic, manly (and womanly) crew heroically transported back to their ship to heroically wait for another emergency to heroically respond to! Once back on board their (heroic) ship, the crew settled into their customary seats. Monsterass groaned with pleasure as she sat in her specially designed, extra- wide chair and activated the massage functions. "Sir!" called out Ensign Cordlessphone, "I have an incoming communique from the Menage-a-Trois!" Thorne heroically leapt up from his seat, striking a heroic pose. Again, a breeze came up from nowhere and caused his heroic, manly hair and his heroic, manly cape to billow out. "On main screen," his heroic, manly voice called out. The image on Commander Guitar appeared on the screen. "Ah! Commander Guitar! I haven't seen you since we helped you out during that nasty business with the Black Queen. What can the heroic crew of the heroic ship, I-Kid-You do for you today?" Guitar thought back to the incident that Thorne had mentioned. Captain Acetaminophen had been trying to learn Tri-D Chess for the fourteenth time when he had suddenly passed out, right on his chessboard. He had somehow managed to drive his Black Queen right up his nose so far that no one had been able to remove it (truth be told, nobody really wanted to touch it!). Fortunately, the Funship I-Kid-You had been in the vicinty and Captain Thorne had managed to get the piece wiggled free. Somehow he had managed to look heroic and manly even with his hand covered in snot! "Captain Thorne! How good to see you, again! We have a job that's right up your alley!" Guitar announced. "A ship has crossed over from the UnHappy Universe. They will bring strife and terror to our peaceful, Happy existence! Only you can stop them!" "Then stop them I shall!" Thorne declared, striking an even more heroic and manly pose. He paused as though waiting for something to happen, before clearing his throat and proclaiming yet, again, "Then stop them I shall!" Again, there was an expectant pause before Metalhead got up from his seat and walked to the back of the Bridge, where a small, powerful fan had been set up. Whacking the Yeoman manning the fan on the back of the head, Metalhead turned on the fan. From out of nowhere, another mysterious breeze came up, ruffling Thorne's heroic, manly hair and his heroic, manly cape. A whiny voice crying, "Hey! I was on a break!" was the only thing marring the Captain's heroic, manly tableau. "Super!" Guitar enthused, "I'm sending you the coordinates where we think they are headed. We will meet you there! Menage-a-Trois - out!" "I-Kid-You - out," Thorne responded, drawing a small phaser and vaporizing the slothful Yeoman. Good help was so hard to find nowadays - even for heroic, manly men like Thorne! "Course laid in, Sir!" the adoring voice of Ensign Cordlessphone called out. Thorne turned to his Ops Officer, "Engage!" he said, as the fan, now out of position, blew his heroic, manly hair into his eyes, momentarily blinding him and causing him to trip and fall over the railing that surrounded the raised command platform. Of course, it /was/ a heroic, manly fall! Either an infinity or an eyelash away from these proceedings, a tense situation had developed aboard the USS Utricularia. "One-Two-Three!" "Rock!" "Rock!" "Rock!" "Arrrrgh! Not another tie!" H'uee screamed in anguish and despair. "You guys! We can pick something other than just 'Rock' you know!" "Hey! Just let us play the way we want and you play the way you want!" L'uee protested. "OK. OK, we'll try again!" H'uee allowed. "One-Two-Three!" "Rock!" "Rock!" "Rock!" "Arrrrgh!" <> H'uee thought. <> The nearly overwhelming sense of presence that accompanied the appearance of the OverMind filled the Bridge. After being chased by the Happy Universe version of themselves for the past several hours, the Omega Configuration had swallowed them up, wrapping them in a comforting, safe haven. Now, the OverMind would be able to help them to pierce the dimensional barriers and return to the Normal Universe. "OverMind! I cannot tell you how glad we are to see you!" Banjo called out. The white light that was usually associated with the OverMind was missing. For some reason, the OverMind was sparkling like an ancient disco ball. Banjo began to get a very bad feeling about this. "Yo! Dudes! What's happenin'? You come to hang with the partyingest Dude in all of space? Then you've come to the right place! Party On!" Banjo's bad feeling intensified, geometrically. "Sir!" M'Dral called out. "I know," Banjo acknowledged. "The OverMind is Happy!" To Be Continued! Next Time: The crew try desperately to save the Happy OverMind as they wrestle with two enemy ships determined to either Happy-fy them or destroy them! "Happiness is..." available February 27th! I welcome Reader Feedback! Please let me know what you've thought of Melting Pot so far, and, in particular this story! Contact me at: meltingpot@khobrah.net