“Q! This is your doing!” exclaimed Picard.
Q appeared leaning over Picard’s command chair. “Why, Jean-Luc! I’m crushed!”
“Mr. Dater!” Demanded Picard in the silly-for-a-Frenchman English accent, “When will we begin the cycle again?”
“In 1.9999999999999999999999…”
“TWO, You cross between a microwave and a boom-box, the answer is two!”
A flash of light. Q and Picard are standing beside Darth Vader, who began writing “I Hate Star Trek” repeadedly on the bulkhead with a piece of black chalk. “Captain Picard. What an annoying torpedo. But now, you seem to Be At My Mercy.”
“Mr. Worf.”
Worf took a step towards Vader and froze. “I…” he struggled to speak, “will kill you…right here…”
“And now I shall take control of your vessel, Captain.”
“Vader! No!” exclaimed Picard.
Vader pressed a switch.
“Thank you for pressing the self destruct button. This ship will self distruct if five (5) minutes. Have a nice day!”
“The Hell is that?” muttered Vader.
“The computer, you idiot!” screamed Riker.
Flash.
Picard, Riker and the rest of the crew were aboard the Imperial cruiser.
“Q!” cried out, “You blithering idiot! You’ve changed crews and ships!”
“Not grammatically or logically correct, Jean-Luc, old sod,” quipped Q, to change ships AND crew, everyone would be where they belonged. Much more interesting this way."
“Captain,” asked the prepetually confused Troi, “What does this lever do?”
“NO!” screamed Riker, “For G-d’s sake don’t let her drive!”
The Crusier leapt to top speed, on a collison course with Enterprise.
“Captain,” remarked the Android, “We are on a collison…”
“I can read, Mr. Dater! Now stop the ship!”
“I shall attempt to, Sir, put this controls are far away from the Enterprises and a long time…” The frown from Picard stopped him cold, and he muttered a colorful metaphor under his breath.
“Lt. Chicago.” Intoned Vader.
“I am Lt. Detroit, Sir, You zapped Lt. Chicago yesterday when he only put one coat of wax on you fighter.”
“Whoever. Whatever. I hate Star Trek” mumbled Vader.
The Crusier impacted Enterprise just as the self destruct mechanism exploded.
Flash.
Picard rubbed his eyes. “Not again, Mr. Dater?”
“Not exactly, Sir. The release of energy has sealed the tim continum flux wormhole thingie, fried our Zilch coils and returned both ships to their proper time, space, movie theater, whatever.”
“Theatre.” Corrected Picard.
“No! Not again! I hate star trek!” Vader began jumping up and down. “Kill! Kill! Ki…what happened?”
“The relase of energy has…”
“AND I don’t want to hear any Star Trek techno babble! What happened?”
“Ah, Sir, well. Err, ah…the enemy is destroyed, Sir.” improvised Lt. Chicago or Detroit, your humble author has lost track of who (whom?) Darth Vader zapped when under what circumstances, stepping between Vader and the instruments.
Vader smiled (as if we would know, but one can’t keep on writing ‘he said’). “Set a course for the Rebel Base. Any Rebel Base. Find me something to shoot at on the way.”
“Captain,” Data intoned in his annoying voice, “I have calculated that there is a 99.9999999999999…”
“One hundred.” muttered Picard.
“Percent chance” continued Data some time and repeating digits later “that the Wesley torpedo may have followed us through the rift if that is so…if that is so…if that is so…”
To be continued?
maybe i can auction off this damned uncomfortable uniform, say, who are your tailors?”