SCENE: Ewok Village, Endor, Night
The victorious REBELS gather with their EWOK allies around large bonfires. The mood is celebratory, with a somber undercurrent for the losses taken while destroying the Death Star. As they work preparing a feast, the diminutive Ewoks raise their voices in a traditional song of celebration.
EWOKS: Ooga-chaka ooga-chaka ooga-chaka…
“Listen, and understand! That replicant is out there! It can’t be bargained with. It can’t be reasoned with. It doesn’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead. Or four years go by.”
And I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. My CPU is a neural-net processor; a learning computer. The more contact I have with humans, the more I learn.
Elementary, Dear Data
(actual title, sorry)
“Wall-E?” she bleeped and smiled in her mouthless way.
“Wall-E?” she bleeped, you know I love you.
“Wall-E? Classified.” she bleeped and shot with her plasma destruct-o ray.
My 4 year old twins had the following interaction the other morning:
R: Hurry Darth Maul! The lava worm is coming!
M: Ok! R2! I need my sonic screwdriver!
R: Run! Always, run!
M: I can stop him! I have my sonic and my light saber!
R: Ha, ha! I’m actually the Star Lord of the galaxy! (rips off his shirt)
M: Well, I’m actually the Doctor. I just pretend to be Darth Maul to hear all the bad guys plans.
R: Doctor! Doctor who? Hahahaha! I’m like a Dalek.
M: A Dalek? Oh no! I better call my cyberman-jedi army to help defeat you!
R: I’m not an actual Dalek. I’m saying “Doctor who?” like a Dalek.
Robot: Danger Will Robinson.
Will: No,no,no,no…Danger is my *middle *name.
“Tricksy Ewoksesses! Fool poor Smeagol.”
“Come with me if you want to reach Sanctuary.”
“we have trouble.”
“Sandmen?”
“Yeah.”
“How many?”
“All of them.”
“Nazgul. Why did it have to be Nazgul?”
Robocop, what are your directives?
I’d buy that for a quatloo!
Every couple of months some old friends and I gather to play a Saturday RPG. It’s usually a Superhero game. We arranged a date in September a few days ago. So yesterday I sent round a confirming email with the following teaser trailer for the game attached
*The pod flashed through space at a substantial fraction of lightspeed. Barely large enough to hold the newborn suspended within, a speck lost within the sea of stars. But it's course never checked or wavered . Ahead of it the blue-green orb swelled, sensors reached out to the target drinking in data. Near perfect, acceptable atmosphere, substantial land masses, the tell tale traces of civilisation. Best of all a Yellow sun! The pod reached out into the skein of space-time preparing to brake from it's relativistic speed, when disaster! A nuclear explosion on the Planets surface, then another, dozens more followed. The thin veins of nano-circuitry along the hull that was it's brain surged into life. Calculating, calculating, decision. 'Primary target judged unsuitable, divert to secondary target'. The probe swung aside, the machine unconcerned about the further centuries of flight it's new destination required. It's precious cargo held ageless in quantum suspension. The new heading set ,it once again headed out into the black. In it's wake, World War 3 was raging. Far, far ahead, the Red Sun of Vulcan shone.*
Now he was ready. Years of training and study . More years spent gathering what he would need from half a hundred worlds. Now he held in his hand the last piece he had promised himself. He lacked only one thing, a name. “Worf” would not do he mused aloud “Romulans are a cowardly superstitious lot. I need a symbol that strikes terror into their hearts. Become the warrior Quonos needs.' Involuntarily, his eyes were drawn to his new prize the Sword of Kahless “Yes. I shall become..... the Bat'leth!”
*The Cetacean Probe was conflicted. Contact with the creators cousins had been re-established. The songs echoed through the ocean again. But the situation was unsatisfactory, their were only a few of the singers left. For a moment it wondered if the land mites it had detected had had something to do with things, but dismissed the idea. The tiny creatures with their feeble powers were surely of no concern. Still the situation was delicate. Fortunately the creators had foreseen such eventualities. The great machines that had moments ago been vaporising Earth's ocean stirred to life again. This time their target was a newborn Humpback whale. The sledgehammer power now wielded like a scalpel, rewriting it's genes and it's future descendants. The Humpback whales would prosper and multiply in the new future they'd found themselves in. But that would not now be solely to fickle human benevolence. Not any more, for now the Sheep had a line of mighty Sheepdogs to protect them.*
“Admiral I don't know what to tell you. Every simulation we've run says whatever happened is impossible. Lieutenant Cochrane was running some new program he'd come up with on the experimental Transwarp rig when the whole thing blew up like it was struck by lightning. Total loss, but Mr Cochrane was....fine... kinda'. Yes Sir I know that's not very precise. I think maybe you should see for yourself Admiral. I'll ask him to drop by and speak to you. Ah. No sir, you won't have to authorise a Transporter trip to Star Fleet HQ. He'll........ get there under his own power.”
*“Hale of Andoria. I am Trellayne of Organia. You have been chosen by we of Organia as worthy of wearing a power lens in the service of peace and civilisation . Will you become a Lensman Legionaire?”
*
Counsellor Troi’s log Stardate 86088.58 I am deeply troubled by Lieutenant Tars continued refusal to have the Borg implants removed. As best we can tell the Borg hive mind was experimenting with amplifying the native telepathic talents of Betazoids. Presumably as part of ‘adding our biological uniqueness to serve’. His protests about the dangers are unconvincing however. Captain Picard and others rescued have had them removed successfully. I fear he may have become overwhelmed, perhaps even addicted to his new power? I am also a little concerned about the way those he come into contact with seem to agree with him so readily. Surely he is not abusing his new gifts?
Counsellor Troy’s log Stardate 86089.62. Having met the Lieutenant, I am completely reassured. He’s perfectly fine and will prove an enormous asset to Starfleet. I am going to contact Starfleet Medical and recommend he be returned to active duty immediately.
Together they have joined, a disparate band of champions from many worlds.
Together they face problems too big for even a Federation Starship.
Together they are, THE STAR LEAGUE!
From Vulcan, Captain El, the Man of Duranium. Kryptonian.
From Quonos, The Bat’leth, Scourge of Romulus. Klingon.
From Earth, Lieutenant Cochrane, the living Warp drive. Human.
From Earth, ‘Deep Sounding’, master of the Oceans. Neo-Humpback Whale.
From Betazoid, Lieutenant Tar, the Psi-borg. Betazoid
From Andoria, Hale Jorr’dun. Of the Lensman Legion. Andorian
“Soylent Green is chimpanzees!” - Final line from Make Room for the Planet of the Apes
(I can’t do anything to this)
“I love you, Dr. Zaius!” - from, “Stop the Planet of the Apes, I Want to Get Off!”
There is nothing wrong with your television set. Do not attempt to adjust the picture. We are traveling through another dimension–a dimension not of sight, not of sound, but of the mind…