The first episode in what is sure to be a series, I present Star Trek: Enterpriez. THE FEDERATION BUREAU OF HOLOGRAPHY HAS DEEMED THIS WORK TO BE UNSAFE FOR TRILL SYMBIONTS UNDER THE AGE OF 85. HOST DISCRETION IS ADVISED. Star Trek: Entepriez Episode 1X01 - “The Enterpriez Incident” Teaser Act Historical Note: The following takes place in February, 2379 DEEP SPACE LOCATION UNKNOWN "Damage report!" Captain Richard Hawke yelled over the din of alarm klaxons and combat chatter. "We've lost shields, and our weapons are gone!" Hawke trudged over to the science station, using the rail to steady himself as the ship rocked under the duress of some decidedly rude weapons fire. "Lieutenant, what's have you got on that thing??" Lieutenant Ignacio Alvarez spun his chair around, his face showing his horror. "Sir, I'm getting a readout on the enemy vessel. It appears to have conformium cannons, a stink machine and a flapperjack mcgoogle. It's a warship." "INCOMING TORPEDO" Hawke quickly grabbed hold of the nearest handrail. "Everybody hang on!" 48 HOURS EARLIER DEEP SPACE ARGOLIS CLUSTER Space. A vast, deep, dark void. To an average onlooker, space may seem boring, but the average onlooker is usually on a planet, so the average onlooker definitely doesn't know diddly squat about space. Stars sprinkle the sky, not just white, but in the varied colors of the rainbow, but not so much that you would expect Colin Baker's face to fly at you any second. Mind you, that's a rather frightening sight if you aren't prepared for that sort of thing. A cadet training crew once encountered a similar phenomenon aboard the Eldridge. They and their ship later mysteriously materialized in orbit of Montauk III, crewmembers spewing cheese whiz from all of their orifices. The incident was later dismissed as a result of nebula gas illuminated by a sensor array and "too much Romulan Ale". But, I digress. If one were to observe a particularly finite area of space around Omega IV, one would note the USS Enterpriez, a Federation Nova-Class starship. This particular starship has a particularly interesting story, if you‘re into that sort of thing anyways. When the previous Enterprise was destroyed over Veridian III, Starfleet had a new Enterprise underway, forgetting that the current Nova-class was different from the proposed version. While the ship was halfway painted, they quickly changed the name to try to avoid confusion. Of course, to make sure no one knew that he had screwed up, Admiral Ross quickly threw it under the carpet, relegating it mainly to garbage hauling and comet deflection. But, this was soon to change. USS ENTERPRIEZ DECK 01 - BRIDGE "Captain-" so said Phlegm, the ship's operations officer. In a normal context, this word wouldn't hold vast amounts of particular significance, however, this single word was the messenger of a chain of events that would irrevocably change the course of history as it is known. Commander Richard Hawke rose from his command chair and stepped over to OPS, placing his foot on the base of the OPS console. "Yeah?" Phlegm tapped a few commands into his console. "We're receiving a communication." He paused for a second, trying to guess what it might be. "What is it?" He turned to face him. "An old trick used to advance the plot, sir." "Mr. Phlegm!" Both officers turned around to face the source of the voice coming from the aft of the bridge. It was Kristen Stanford, ship's executive officer. "Regulation 42-A paragraph 47-B. The fourth wall is not to be broken under any circumstances." "Pretty ironic regulation, if you ask me." The ship's helmsman, Jack Something piped up, raising his right hand as if it would make his statement seem significant, "I mean, by simply existing, it breaks the fourth wall." Phlegm cleared his throat. "I believe we have a message to get to." "Right," Hawke zipped up his jacket and Picard Maneuvered it. Phlegm tapped in a series of commands to his console, causing the Starfleet Command emblem to briefly pop onscreen, then the visage of Admiral Janeway. "Oh, Admiral Janeway. What a pleasant surprise!" Hawke enthusiastically offered, kissing ass as much as is humanly possible. "I'll bet you were surprised, you lazy bums. Probably eating potato chips and listening to Rush. Lazy kids." "Actually, no ma'am. We've been patrolling-" "SILENCE!" Jack raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it ironic to yell at someone to be silent?" "Shut up. Listen, as much as it pains me, I have a problem and you and your crew are the only ones who can help." Janeway chugged down the last of her coffee and fired off a loud, juicy belch. Hawke crossed his hands behind his back and widened his stance. "I'm all ears, Admiral." "I need you to get the Enterpriez to the Sigma Epsilon listening post. We've lost contact with them." "Anything we can expect, Admiral?" "You can expect me not to grill your ass if you survive. Starfleet Command, out." "Well," Jack proppoed his feet up on his console, "Should I lay in a course?" The captain dropped down into his chair, which squeaked in response. "No thanks, I've already had lunch today." Jack rolled his eyes, "I mean, set the ship's heading." "Yes, make it... such." "Aye." With a gradual whine and a flash of light, the Enerpriez jumped to warp speed, stars streaking past as it rapidly moved through space.
The Hitchhiker's Guide meets Trek. Some of the jokes here fell a bit flat but others struck gold, I thought. Comedy is hard but you're on the right track. Good stuff.
Thank ya. Right now, I've got some background info on this... noble and uhh... intrepid crew. USS ENTERPRIEZ – a Nova-class vessel built to full scientific spec. later refitted with industrial tractor beams and an expanded auxiliary deflector module. She was originally intended as a replacement for the Enterprise-D due to a paperwork error, but Starfleet realized something was wrong mid-construction and quickly changed the name, claiming Enterpriez was “some famous guy or something”. Enterpriez has been assigned to do various menial assignments in the backwaters of the Federation. Commander Richard Hawke. Commanding officer of the Enterpriez, he is the latest in a long line of Enterpriez commanding officers, which is the opposite of reassuring, considering the ship has only been active for a few years. He is eager to be in space, and wants to be where the action is. Lt. Cmdr Kristen Stanford - Executive Officer. The executive officer of Enterpriez, Stanford plays things strictly by the book. Consequently, she feels her assignment to Enterpriez may be some punishment for something she might have done. She seems dry and impersonal on the exterior but… well, she could be the same inside. Lt. JG Ignacio Alvarez - Chief Science Officer. Alvarez spends hours at a time engrossed in research. He’s not a social creature, far from it, he is self-absorbed, petulant, and unpleasant in general. Lt. Karen “Coop“ Cooper - An implausibly brilliant ,engineer, she can fix anything with anything. Almost nothing is too broken for a roll of duct tape, some chewing gum and a bottle of helium. Lt. Cmdr. Emily Aaron Fune- CMO. Doctor Fune is a decent doctor, but posseses extremely poor bedside manners, an acidic personality and very brutal honesty. Ens. Phlegm – Operations. As an Denobulan, Phlegm finds it difficult to live on a starship packed full of humans. Little does he know that humans have difficulty with that, too. His behaviour is unpredictable and irrational and he seems to like acting weird just for the sake of acting weird. Ens. Jack Something - Helm / Navigation. A self proclaimed combination of Casanova and Han Solo, Jack has the worst of both, and the best of neither. He is arrogant, sexist, bothersome, and to top it off, he smells of old cheese. He can sometimes be seen acting as the “peanut gallery”, offering useless comments or jokes that are meant to be funny. Lt. JG Kraa’pla – Chief of Security. A once proud Klingon, Kraa’pla failed his Rite of Succession and banished himself to the Federation to hide the shame. He enrolled in Starfleet academy, and was assigned to the Enterpriez. ACT 1 COMING LATER TODAY, BARRING SUDDEN TOTAL EXISTENCE FAILURE
I guess that since the last entry was posted on 9/22 there was some sort of existence failure. I'd love to keep reading this-I found myself grinning pretty hard as I read.
Statements in between equals signs ( =like so=) indicate voice communications. Star Trek: Entepriez Episode 1X01 - “The Enterpriez Incident” Act 1 "Captain's Log, Stardate 9021.0. We are en route to the Sigma Epsilon system to investigate the mysterious loss of our listening post. End log." SIGMA EPSILON SYSTEM USS ENTERPREIZ - BRIDGE The Enterpriez suddenly dropped from warp, like a Californian driver talking on his cell phone and suddenly noticing a stop sign. The scene that awaited it was grim. The outpost had been almost entirely destroyed. Well, perhaps almost entirely isn't the best way to put it. The outpost had been outright destroyed. Debris drifted through space, like so many hippies through an LSD trip. The bridge was bustling with activity. Key word being was. At this point, the bridge was relatively calm, with very little actual excitement up to this point. Not that I would call discovering an abandoned station particularly exciting. More like depressing or perhaps foreboding. Hawke sunk further back into the plush command chair, accidentally activating the recliner function. Hawke was surprised by this, but crossed his arms and acted like he meant to do it. Jack was visibly shocked for a moment, then quickly ran a hand through his hair to make sure his coif hadn't lost it's stand. "Sir, we've arrived at Sigma Epsilon." "Oh?" asked the reclining, seemingly lazy, commander, "I couldn't tell. Mister Phlegm, analysis." Phlegm stopped filing his earnails and typed a series of commands into his console. "Weapons pattern is consistent with a class 3 disruptor." "SIR!" Yelled Kraa'pla into Hawke's ear, "RECCOMEND IMMEDIATE YELLOW ALERT. It's scaary." "Agreed" said he, "Yellow alert, Commander" "Aye." Hawke used his feet to force the recliner closed and moved up to standing. Doctor Fune, possessing a fine sense of dramatic timing, had just arrived from sickbay and was slowly entering through the turbolift alcove. "Good god man, what the hell happened" "I don't know," came the vague, ominous statement from Hawke, "But I intend to find out. We're going over there. Mr. Phlegm, Kraa'pla, you're with me," he tapped his commbadge, which magically routed him to engineering without any input, "Cooper, get to transporter room 3" ="On my way, skipper."= "Sir," Stanford started again, revealing her character's recurring joke to already be tiresome and predictable in a second or two, "Starfleet regulations clearly state the captain is not to go on away missions under any circumstances." But, Hawke continued to the turbolift regardless. However, she did follow, trying to make her point on the turbolift ride, through 40 meters of corridor and while waiting for the transporter chief to warm things up. It is widely accepted that the collected regulations of Starfleet are the most boring and wasteful text in existence. There are 40 book volumes alone dedicated to regulations regarding flag officers beaming down to hazardous planets. Regulation, treaty and general order nomenclature is constantly changing, creating an indecipherable mess. Many have stated that the rulebook is boring and should be changed. Some have proposed that officers should be given X-Men comics instead, since "no one will read the bloody rules anyways", but Admirals call these sort of people "silly". These people in turn, have accused the Admirals of "being the man who is bringing me down... man." Stanford was almost certainly aware of the Starfleet regulation known as the "Saavik Law", which stated that it was annoying if you over-quoted Starfleet rules, but she made an exception since it was such an obscure law. The transporter chief finished pretending to look busy and motioned Hawke and his away party to the transporter pad. They put on their spiffy new field jackets (props to the costume department), and stepped onto the transporter pad. "Mr. O'Connely. Four to beam down." The transporter chief slid his hands across the controls, like an amateur musician who has mastered a 60 dollar keyboard. In a shimmering display of light and what is probably carbonated water, the away team dematerialized. "But... my name isn't O'Connely" SIGMA EPSILON SYSTEM LISTENING STATION SIGMA - COMMAND CENTER The three of them beam in, the accompanying visual effects being analog or digital, whatever your preference is. Cooper waved her tricorder around, as everyone else pulled out their tricorders, giving Trekkies bad memories of Starfleet officers walking around a farm, all of them waving tricorders only for the reason that they have them. "ooks like this section's intact. Atmosphere's stable." Hawke looked thoughtful for a second. "Maybe we should have checked before we beamed in witout pressure suits." Everyone paused for a moment, looked at Hawke, then shook their heads and moved on. Cooper sat down at a computer station, emptied a bottle of Coke and stuck the bottle into a circuit panel, causing it to light up and power the computer station. "That was implausible." "Hey," she replied, Shatnering her head to the right, "It's what I do." Hawke leaned in over her shoulder to get a better look at the console display. "What've you got?" He asked rather stiffly. "Someone leaning over my shoulder. Give me a second." She typed on the flat plexiglass-like control panels. "I've got the station logs." "lright, let's play em." A weary-eyed officer, suspiciously similar to Darren McGavin, appeared onscreen. In fact, this particular man had won a Darren McGavin lookalike contest on Omicron Persei 8, a planet where actors are revered. For years, he has been stalked by fans who believe him to be the actor in question, although he's been dead for hundereds of years. TIME INDEX 1071 STATION LOG "Personal log. We've greeted an alien race known as the Zamboni, who have never met others like them before. Things are going well-" "Fast-forward this, will ya?" Asked Hawke, spinning his finger around as if manipulating a dial. "Things are going horribly! What was I thinking! It's all horribly horribly wrong. Oh god! Oh god!" "O god oh god?" Asked Phlegm, "I thought you humans didn't have religion anymore, that you evolved beyond it." "No," replied Hawke, "That's just something we tell everyone else so we can feel smug and superior." "Alright skipper," Cooper said, pulling an isolinear chip from it's slot, "I've got all the logs here." Kraa'pla looked rapidly from side to side as the lights flickered for a moment, and huddled close to Cooper's side. "Get offa me, will ya?" "Sorry. It startled me and uh.. I mean, I am a bold Klingon warrior and I was trying to prevent you from being harmed by whatever that was!" She stared at him for a second, then shifted her attention to the captain. "We've got all we need." "Alright," he said, "Let's get back to the ship. Hawke to Enterpriez" he said as he slapped his nipple, then aimed higher and got his commbadge, "4 to beam up." And they dissolved in a dazzling show of alka-seltzer. SIGMA EPSILON SYSTEM USS ENTERPRIEZ - BRIEFING ROOM The senior staff had gathered around the table, which still had the net from last night's ping-pong match. The viewer was active and Cooper was standing next to this. "Mind if I light a smoke?" Fune asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. Hawke points at the "NO SMOKING" sign by the door. Fune shrugs in understanding and lights her cigarette. Hawke's eyebrow twitches in minor irritation. "So," she says, "Let me axe ya this: what are we doing here?" "An excellent question Doctor!" Phlegm enthusiastically began, "Some believe that God is an all-powerful benevolent force that surrounds us and binds us, while others feel that he is a prick who likes bossing people around, and that's a good reason to worship him. Still, people can't particularly fathom the meaning of their own tiny existences, most don't even give it a second thought, but those that do, beyond all probability have an experience that-" "Yes, that's enough." "I agree. Starfleet regulation 32A, paragraph 42: Shut the hell up." Hawke looked surprised, "Is that really a regulation?" "No," she replied, "I just made it up." "Oooh," said Jack, "Am I sensing a new running joke?" "Morons, idiots, simpletons, lend me your attention please." Alvarez stood up, putting his hands down on the table. "Can we get back on task before I die of old age? I have 12 very important projects in progress, all of which require my genius and intellect to succeed." "Right." Said Hawke, "Anyways, it seems the Listening Post made contact with a group of aliens known as the Zamboni. Things were going well, but there are some records missing. This is the last video record from the station." "Oh god, this is awful!" "You will be destroyed, pitiful ones!" "Wait no! I take it back-" Fune raised her eyebrows, "Good god man, those aliens took out a whole outpost! And Janeway expects us to be able to do something about this?" Jack propped his feet up on his table, having stolen Indiana Jones's cool hat, which he was using to put his face in the shade. "That's the point." "Can we stay on topic?" Alvarez asked, "Or do I need to get a spray bottle for you people?" "Right," continued Hawke, "It looks like they offended the Zamboni somehow, so we'll just have to tread carefully. Any questions." Everyone sat and was silent, heads propped up on hands, thumbs twiddling, and so on. "Alright. Dismissed." = "Uhh, conference room." = Hawke tapped his commbadge, "Go ahead Ensign Vernon" = "We've got an unidentifed ship coming in. Never seen anything like it." = "I call dibs." proclaimed Jack, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head. "Dibs on what?" Asked Fune, casting her green eyes on the young helmsman. "First escape pod." SIGMA EPSILON SYSTEM USS ENTERPRIEZ - BRIDGE The crew rapidly entered through the portside door, quickly going to their stations, like a bunch of high-schoolers rushing to get to the pizza line first. "Sir," reported Phlegm, "We are being hailed." "Onscreen." A friendly-looking alien wearing a bright wool sports coat and tacky tie appeared onscreen. "Hello friend," he said, "I am Zanzibar of the Zamboni. Are you comfortable?" "Uhh yes." "Are you sure we can't make you more comfortable?" "Uhh..." Hawke hesitated for a moment. Perhaps answering yes is what killed the station crew. Then again, perhaps no is the wrong answer and yes is the right answer, being higher on a scale of choices. But, if you start second guessing yourself, he thought to himself, then you start to slip up. And then once you start second guessing your second guesses, you should just give up at that point. "Green!" He blurted out. "What?" "I mean, no." "You will be destroyed, pitiful ones!" "Oh shi-" fortunatley for the network censors, Hawke was cut off by an incoming disruptor blast, which struck the unshielded vessel. A computer bank burst into sparks, flinging an unsuspecting crewman on the floor. "Damage report!" Captain Hawke yelled over the din of alarm klaxons and combat chatter. "We've lost shields, and our weapons are gone!" Hawke trudged over to the science station, using the rail to steady himself as the ship rocked under the duress of some decidedly rude weapons fire. "Lieutenant, what's have you got on that thing??" Alvarez spun his chair around, his face showing his horror. "Sir, I'm getting a readout on the enemy vessel. It appears to have conformium cannons, a stink machine and a flapperjack mcgoogle. It's a warship." "INCOMING TORPEDO" Hawke quickly grabbed hold of the nearest handrail. "Everybody hang on!" ACT 2 COMING SOON
Thanks guys. Conclusion act should be up within the frame of this week, so stay tuned, cause Star Trek: Enterpriez will conclude episode 1X01 on the same Bat Time, same Bat Channel.
Aww jeeze, one of the downsides of being funny is being lazy. Anyone have any motivational posters that'll help?
I used to have one with a mouse giving an eagle the finger but I ran out of food and had to eat it. Sorry.