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Star Trek: The Next Generation "The Unethicals Within" Continued. Captain's Log, stardate supplemental: We are in orbit around the planet Melcot, where Commander Riker has beamed down with an Away Team to reestablish relations. In the meantime, a Melcotian space beacon has been firing on us for the past few hours. I'm sure our Away Team can clear up this misunderstanding. "Sir, over there," said Data. "They look like... costumes of some sort," said Troi. "What are those, Data?" said Riker. Data picked one up. "Some sort of apparel... with yellow feathers... and beaks...." "There are four suits," said Riker. "They seem about our size...." "There's even a smaller one for me!" Wesley yelped. "But what are they? Are we really supposed to wear them?" Riker wondered. "Data, analysis." "Cloaked in them, I hypothesize that we would superficially resemble some variety of fowl." "I see," said Riker. "But why would the Melkots want us to wear them? What does this have to do with their problem?" "Perhaps it's a local custom," said Data. "Yes, perhaps this is how they conduct diplomacy." "Wearing... this?" said Troi. "And why not?" said Riker, lifting his chin. "On Trantus Two I wore furs when meeting with the official delegation. On Glopus Three I had to cover myself with slime. On Angel One it was the sissy clothes and the girlie-man earclip necessary to impress the woman leader-" "But nothing in my memory banks indicates any sorts of customs involving this sort of... clothing," said Data. "It's probably part of a secret initiation into their culture. Once we've done this, we'll break the diplomatic impasse!" said Riker excitedly. "I don't know...." said Data reluctantly. As if to get confirmation, Riker turned to Troi. "Deanna, what do you sense?" Troi considered, wetting her finger, and putting it into the air. "I sense something... scorn... disdain... more disdain than scorn... no... more scorn than disdain...." "You see," said Riker. "They won't show any respect for us until we take the first step. " "But Commander," said Wesley. "They look like chicken suits to me." "Evasive maneuvers are reducing the number of hits we're taking," Worf reported. "But these zigs and zags are throwing me off balance," said Ensign Row, grasping a railing. "Captain!" said Geordi. "Yes, Geordi?" said Picard, noting the sound of alarm in the young engineer's voice. "I've had even fewer lines than Ensign Row, and she's new," Geordi protested. The turbolift hissed open. "And what about me?" said Guinan. "Yes, Whoopi?" said Picard. "Your zigging and zagging is causing me to slosh the drinks," said Whoopi. "How do you expect me to operate a bar under battle conditions?" "I'm sorry," said Picard. "But the Melkotian space beacon seems rather intent on attacking us. I am permitting this, on the theory that these repeated attacks will allow them to work out their hostility-" But Whoopi wasn't listening. "And I lost my hat!" "Your hat?" "When the first lurch came, my hat came flying off, and fell into a malfunctioning replicator. There was a flash, and my hat turned into a bowl of noodle soup!" "Well, I'm sorry about your hat," said Picard. "Here, sit down. Sit down besides me." Whoopi reluctantly sat by his side. Picard smiled approvingly, and opened his thick shakespeare tome. "Listen to the impressive language!".... "This feels silly," said Troi, looking down at her feathered self. "What's wrong?" said Riker, sticking his chest out proudly in his bird costume. "On Trantus Two I had to get dressed up as-" 'Yes, yes, I know," said Troi. "That's the third time you've given us that speech today." They were all in the large, yellow feathered costumes. The costumes even came with long chicken legs. Data made an observation. "We are in the suits," he said, studying the others. "But what now?" "We flap our wings, silly," said Wesley. Commander Riker flapped his arms up and down. Troi flapped back and forth. For several minutes, Starfleet's finest gave it their best. "But nothing's happening," said Troi. Riker, looking rather like Big Bird in his yellow feathered suit, stopped flapping. "Is there something we're missing?" he wondered. Data looked glossy-eyed for a moment, as if he were retrieving something from memory. "Sir, I believe that chickens make sounds." "Sounds? What sort of sounds." Data retrieved the sound from memory. "'Buck Buck Buck', I believe, is the appropriate noise." Riker immediately gave it a try. "Buck Buck Buck!" "Sure!" said Wesley, flapping his wings enthusiastically. "Buck Buck Buck, Buck Buck Baaack!" "Emulate him," said Riker, lifting his wings. "We must make contact!" "Buck Buck Buck," said Data, in a montone. "Baaack Buck Buck," said Troi, with real feeling. "Buck Buck Buck," said Riker, wondering if this was getting them anywhere. Maybe he should crow louder. "I sense... something different..." said Troi. "Yeah yeah?" said Riker anxiously. "The scorn is still there... but something new, also..." "What?" "Laughter, amusement, much amusement...." "-Brave new worlds, to seek out new life forms and new civilizations, except for the Borg, and to boldly fumble along where no man, woman, or Data has done so before!" said Picard, his chin up as the noble Star Trek music played in the background. "Captain, I don't think reading the Starfleet manual is going to help at a time like this," said Worf. The ship shuddered as it was hit. Picard put down the book. "Quite right, Mr. Worf. It's becoming quite difficult to read with the ship jolting about. What's causing that?" "The Melcotians attacking us," said Worf. "Oh, yes, that. I had nearly forgotten," said Picard, frowning. He looked around. What had become of his tea? "Captain, we've got to do something," Geordi implored. "Geordi, I let you establish communications before. There are only so many lines each star can have per episode," said Picard. "No sir, about the attacks," Geordi said. As if to underscore his comment, the ship was rocked again. "We have to do something!" "I've read words of moral inspiration from the Starfleet manual," said Picard reasonably. "What more can you want?" Picard snapped his fingers. "I completely forgot about the Away team. There's something you can do... establish contact with Commander Riker." "Me?" said Geordi, moving to the controls. "No, pick me!" said Worf. "I can do it from my console just as easily!" "What about letting me do it?" said Ensign Row. "I'm so hard up for lines that even a banal 'hailing frequencies open' would be welcome. Picard said, "Oh, never mind, I'll do it." He touched a certain spot on his rather concave chest. "Picard to Away Team." In moments the voices of the Away Team could be heard on the bridge. "Buck Buck Buck..." "Commander Riker?" said Picard. "-uck... Captain?" "What are you doing, Numba One?" Riker's voice sounded embarrassed. "We're... attempting to make contact with the Melkots, sir." The ship rocked again. "We keep getting hit up here. You're going to have to speed up the process." "Sir, we're flapping as hard as we can," said Riker. Picard frowned. "Give me a visual." The viewscreen gave a shot from the chest camera built into Riker's communicator. Picard could see his Away team dressed like chickens, rapidly running in circles, going "Buck buck buck...." Picard sighed. He would have to beam down to expedite matters. In the transporter room, Picard said, "Energize." Nothing happened. Peering closer, Picard saw there was no one behind the console. Fuming, he said, "Where is that O'Brien?" "He's getting a tap dancing lesson from Doctor Crusher, sir," said Alexander, suddenly coming out of hiding from where he had been teething on the transporter circuits. "But he taught me how to operate it." Picard sighed. "Alexander, the transporter is a highly technical piece-" Alexander cut in. "You just pull the three levers at the same time, right?" Picard materialized on the planet, just in time to see another "Buck buck buck" rendition by his Away Team. "Stop this, stop this at once," said Picard. "This is not 'The New Zoo Review'." "I sense something different now..." said Troi. "The scorn is still there, but something else.... amusement... a special sort of amusement... I can't explain it, but it's somewhat like the feeling one get from... belly laughs... many belly laughs...." "You have amused us," said a Melcot, suddenly appearing. "We are willing to talk now." "What?" said Picard. "I beam dow here to give a speech, and now there is no need?" So he gave one anyway. "How dare you! We come here in peace and friendship, to reestablish relations with you, and what do you do? Humiliate our Away Team! I admit, Commander Riker may be an easier target than most, but that gives you no right! No right!" Picard raised his chin. "There, I hope you've learned your lesson." Captain's Log, Supplemental We have reestablished full diplomatic relations with the Melcots. It was my speech that turned the tide, convincing them of the worthiness of the Federation. Right now an emergency has forced us back to Starbase 123 at Warp 9; Alexander's ridges are turning to putty, and we are all out of Klingon children's vitamins. | ||||||||
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