Originally posted on fanfiction.net - Link.
--------------------------------------
The Errors of Comedy
“How do I look?” Freeman asked checking herself in the mirror.
“Like a million bars of latinum,” Ransom remarked with a grin. He and Freeman were in the Ready Room wearing their dress uniforms. “Or better yet, a shiny new set of dumbbells and free weights.”
“Well, I’m certainly feeling the weight of responsibility today,” Freeman said straightening her collar. “These upcoming diplomatic negotiations with the Zalosians are of extreme importance to Starfleet. This is the first time the Cerritos has been entrusted with hosting such esteemed guests and I want everything to be absolutely perfect.”
“No worries about that, Captain,” Ransom assured. “The crew is prepared and the ship is in six-pack abs condition.”
“Great. Good work,” Freeman glanced at the chronometer. “Looks like we still have a little time. I’d like to make one more brief inspection before the Zalosian delegation arrives.”
“Understood,” Ransom nodded gesturing towards the door. “After you.”
“I prefer you being right along with me,” Freeman smiled exiting the room. “There’s no man I’d rather have by my side. Aside from my dear husband, of course.”
“Captain on the Bridge,” Ensign Taylor announced noticing Freeman’s arrival.
“As you were,” Freeman said heading for the turbolift. “Status report.”
“All stations report normal, Captain,” Lieutenant Dirk said standing near the captain’s chair. “Only one minor issue. Some of the ship’s transponder identification and subspace marker confirmation processors are offline due to a system’s relay maintenance assignment mishap. Engineering is working on bringing them back online. Seems it was a careless mistake.”
“I see. Well, that shouldn’t have too much of an effect. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Freeman commented as she and Ransom entered the turbolift. “The Zalosian transport should rendezvous with us soon. Contact me when they arrive.”
“Yes, sir,” Dirk nodded as the turbolift doors hissed shut.
“Sorry about that assignment mistake, Captain,” Ransom apologized. “Guess the Cerritos isn’t in top shape after all.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jack,” Freeman said. “A maintenance error is a minor thing. If that’s the only mistake that occurs while the Zalosians are here, I’ll be just fine with it…”
THUNK!
“Huh?” Freeman blinked at the turbolift’s sudden halt. “What the? This isn’t the right deck.”
“Controls aren’t working,” Ransom frowned tapping at a panel before hitting his combadge. “Ransom to Billups. There seems to be a problem with the turbolifts.”
“Sorry about that, Commander,” Billups replied. “Fault sensors detected a slight programming mistake in the latest batch of isolinear chips. Including the chips that regulate the fault sensors.”
“I see,” Ransom blinked.
“I’ve got a team swapping out all the affected chips right now,” Billups went on. “They should be finished in about an hour.”
“You’re saying we can’t use turbolifts until then?” Freeman asked.
“Oh, you can use them,” Billups said. “They just won’t take the occupants where they want to go.”
“Great,” Freeman groaned. “Looks like the Jefferies tubes are about to receive a brief surge in popularity.”
“Alright,” Ransom grinned. “Nothing like a little impromptu cardio to keep you sharp.”
“Let’s hope the Zalosians feel the same way,” Freeman said. “Unless I come up with an excuse for keeping them on a single deck until…” She attempted to exit the turbolift only to bump head-first into the doors. “Ow!”
“Oh, the turbolift doors seem to be affected to,” Billups added. “They will apparently open and close at random.”
“No kidding,” Freeman winced rubbing her forehead. “Keep me informed. Freeman out.”
“Don’t worry, Captain. I got this,” Ransom grinned flexing his muscles before prying the turbolift doors open with his bare hands. “Yeaaagghhh!”
“Good work, Jack…aahhhhhh!” Freeman yelped as a sleek, streamlined figure suddenly whizzed past just as she and Ransom exited the turbolift. “What the…?!”
“Wheeeeee!” A happy dolphin calf giggled while wearing a specialized moisturizing romper, Taylor rig and mini anti-grav harness. “Squeaky! Squeaky! Clicky! Clicky!”
“Oh, no,” Freeman groaned. “Not again!”
“Oops! Sorry, about that, Captain Freeman,” Ms. Arnemann, one of the Cerritos’ childcare providers said running up to her. “A few kids mistakenly fed Haeun a large batch of honey butter pineapple squid for lunch.”
“Huh?” Ransom did a double-take. “They gave a baby dolphin sugar?!”
“Play free! Play free!” Haeun squeaked cheerfully racing off. “Hehehehehe!”
“Haeun! Come back here!” Arnemann shouted chasing after the hyperactive cetacean calf. “No, that room isn’t a playground! It’s the Armory!”
“Uh, maybe we should get off this deck,” Freeman gulped heading for the nearest maintenance hatch. “For our own safety…uh, I mean to inspect the safety of our Zalosian guests.”
“Good idea,” Ransom nodded as he and Freeman quickly made their way through the Jefferies tubes.
“I just hope Billups’ pet ferret hasn’t managed to escape again,” Freeman said emerging onto another deck. “Okay, the VIP quarters for the Zalosians are right over…”
“Squookoom!”
“Aaahhhhhh!” Ransom yelped as a small, strange, winged tentacled creature suddenly flew out from a nearby research lab.
“What the heck?!” Freeman ducked and peeked into the lab which was filled with more than a dozen other winged tentacled creatures hooting and flying about.
“Wow, these test results are amazing!” Tendi gushed making notes on a padd while standing in the middle of the lab. “This is going to be my best medical side project yet!”
“Ensign!” Freeman barked. “Just what the blue blazes is going on here?”
“Oh, hello, Captain!” Tendi chirped cheerfully. “You’re just in time to witness my latest experiment involving osmotic cuttlefish bats.”
“Osmotic what?” Ransom gawked in surprise as a few more winged tentacled creatures flew out and latched onto him. “Hey! Get off me!”
“Osmotic cuttlefish bats,” Tendi repeated helpfully. “Their nidamental glands produce a unique secretion filled with regenerative and anti-aging enzymes.”
“I see,” Freeman blinked.
“I initially attempted to genetically alter this colony of cuttlefish bats to increase their enzyme outputs,” Tendi explained. “But I accidentally edited a few other genes by mistake and ended up making the cuttlefish bats capable of bioelectrogenesis instead.”
“What?!” Freeman yelped.
ZZZAAAPPPPPP!
“YAAAHHHHHH!” Ransom cried as one of the cuttlefish bats zapped him.
“See? They’re functioning perfectly,” Tendi beamed proudly as Ransom was zapped again by the creatures. “This natural application of controlled electric shocks is sure to revolutionize the field of bioneurostimulation therapy.”
“These cuttlefish bats aren’t poisonous, are they?” Freeman asked warily.
“Just a little bit,” Tendi said. “But only when they eat. Osmotic cuttlefish bats are attracted to rich sources of highly concentrated proteins and muscular tissues. Both for feeding and mating purposes.”
“WHAT?!” Ransom cried as more cuttlefish bats swiftly descended on him.
ZZAAAPPPPPP! ZZAAAPPPPPP! ZZAAAPPPPPP!
“GAAAHHHHHH!”
“Wow, they really seem to like you, Commander,” Tendi commented innocently. “Osmotic cuttlefish bats are famous for their tenacity. Once they latch onto something they refuse to let go until they or the other party is dead.”
“WHAT?!” Ransom shrieked.
“O-kay,” Freeman gulped slowly backing away from lab. “Given the situation, I think’s it’s best if you remain here, Commander. Both for the sake of science and the peaceful operation of the rest of the ship.”
“WHAT?!” Ransom screamed once more before being dragged into the lab by the colony of excited osmotic cuttlefish bats. “WAIT! CAPTAIN! DON’T LEAVE! NOOOOOOOOO!”
ZZAAAPPPPPP! ZZAAAPPPPPP! ZZAAAPPPPPP!
“WAAAUUUGGGHHHHHH!”
“Sorry, Jack, but you’ll just have to take one for the team this time,” Freeman apologized as she quickly headed away from the lab. “I’ll make it up to you later…ah, finally.” Freeman stopped outside a set of VIP quarters. A small maintenance team was standing outside as well. “Everything ready for our guests, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, Captain,” Lieutenant Pon Darra reported. “We just finished completing the last of the special environmental requests now.”
“Excellent,” Freeman nodded.
“It wasn’t easy meeting all the requirements,” Pon Darra added checking a padd. “But we managed to do so after removing all of the VIP quarters’ bedding, replicators, artwork, carpeting, furniture…”
“That’s nice…wait, what?” Freeman did a take. “Why did you do that?”
“We had to, Captain,” Pon Darra defended. “Otherwise the atmospheric conditions would have dissolved them all. Which is to be expected when a species breathes a mixture of nitrogen, benzene and hydrogen fluoride.”
“What are you talking about? Our guests don’t breathe that!” Freeman snatched the padd from Pon Darra’s hands and quickly skimmed through it. “Lieutenant, we’re hosting Zalosian delegates, not Yalosians!”
“Really?” Pon Darra blinked rechecking the padd. “Oops. Sorry about that, Captain. Somebody must’ve made a slight spelling mistake.”
“No, you think?” Freeman grumbled rubbing her temples. “How many times do I have to tell people to always double-check their work without relying on autocorrect?! We need to fix this and return the VIP quarters to the proper configurations before the Zalosians arrive…”
“Bridge to Captain Freeman,” Dirk’s voice came over the comm. “A Zalosian transport has just dropped out of warp.”
“Too late,” Freeman groaned.
“They’ve attempted to hail us,” Dirk continued. “But we’re still having trouble with the ship’s transponder identification and subspace marker confirmation processors so have yet to verify their identity…”
“Skip it. We’re out of time,” Freeman ordered. “We can’t leave the Zalosian delegates waiting.” She quicky tapped her combadge. “Freeman to Transporter Room One. Beam me into the transporter room and prepare to receive the Zalosian delegation immediately.”
“‘Fraid I can’t do that, Captain,” Chief Lundy responded.
“What?!” Freeman gasped. “Why?”
“An engineer was running a final diagnostic check on the phase transition coils,” Lundy explained. “But mistakenly ran it on the primary energizing coils instead. The entire coil assembly is offline.”
“Sorry,” Rutherford’s voice was heard in the background. “My bad.”
“What?!” Freeman repeated yet again. “Ugh, fine. Never mind. We’ll use the cargo transporters instead.”
“Can’t. They’re down too,” Lundy said.
“Of course they are,” Freeman groaned. “Okay, we’ll just have to improvise.” She tapped her combadge again. “Freeman to Bridge. Contact the Zalosians and tell them they have the honor of transporting our guests to our transporter room. After I give the word.”
“Understood,” Dirk acknowledged.
“Freeman out,” Freeman swiftly closed the comm and sped through the ship before dashing into Transporter Room One. “Alright. I’m here. Is everything ready?”
“Yes, Captain,” Boimler nodded standing near the transporter console next to Lundy. Rutherford was working on an open panel in the background. “The Bridge reports the Zalosians are standing by for transport.”
“Huh?” Freeman glanced at Boimler in confusion. “You’re not the Zalosians’ liaison officer. Where’s Stevens?”
“In Sickbay,” Boimler reported. “His mistakenly ordered a salad with banana peppers for lunch which caused him to suffer a severe case of heartburn.”
“Great,” Freeman groaned. “Just great.”
“Stevens chose me as his liaison replacement before insisting on getting his stomach pumped,” Boimler added. “Thought come to think of it, he was kind of disoriented from the heartburn at the time and might have mistakenly pointed to me instead of Lieutenant Lemonts…”
“Never mind. I’m sure you’re well-qualified,” Freeman waved straightening her uniform before tapping her combadge. “Freeman to Bridge. Hail the Zalosians and signal them they may beam their passengers aboard when ready.”
“Understood,” Dirk replied.
--------------------------------------
The Errors of Comedy
“How do I look?” Freeman asked checking herself in the mirror.
“Like a million bars of latinum,” Ransom remarked with a grin. He and Freeman were in the Ready Room wearing their dress uniforms. “Or better yet, a shiny new set of dumbbells and free weights.”
“Well, I’m certainly feeling the weight of responsibility today,” Freeman said straightening her collar. “These upcoming diplomatic negotiations with the Zalosians are of extreme importance to Starfleet. This is the first time the Cerritos has been entrusted with hosting such esteemed guests and I want everything to be absolutely perfect.”
“No worries about that, Captain,” Ransom assured. “The crew is prepared and the ship is in six-pack abs condition.”
“Great. Good work,” Freeman glanced at the chronometer. “Looks like we still have a little time. I’d like to make one more brief inspection before the Zalosian delegation arrives.”
“Understood,” Ransom nodded gesturing towards the door. “After you.”
“I prefer you being right along with me,” Freeman smiled exiting the room. “There’s no man I’d rather have by my side. Aside from my dear husband, of course.”
“Captain on the Bridge,” Ensign Taylor announced noticing Freeman’s arrival.
“As you were,” Freeman said heading for the turbolift. “Status report.”
“All stations report normal, Captain,” Lieutenant Dirk said standing near the captain’s chair. “Only one minor issue. Some of the ship’s transponder identification and subspace marker confirmation processors are offline due to a system’s relay maintenance assignment mishap. Engineering is working on bringing them back online. Seems it was a careless mistake.”
“I see. Well, that shouldn’t have too much of an effect. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Freeman commented as she and Ransom entered the turbolift. “The Zalosian transport should rendezvous with us soon. Contact me when they arrive.”
“Yes, sir,” Dirk nodded as the turbolift doors hissed shut.
“Sorry about that assignment mistake, Captain,” Ransom apologized. “Guess the Cerritos isn’t in top shape after all.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jack,” Freeman said. “A maintenance error is a minor thing. If that’s the only mistake that occurs while the Zalosians are here, I’ll be just fine with it…”
THUNK!
“Huh?” Freeman blinked at the turbolift’s sudden halt. “What the? This isn’t the right deck.”
“Controls aren’t working,” Ransom frowned tapping at a panel before hitting his combadge. “Ransom to Billups. There seems to be a problem with the turbolifts.”
“Sorry about that, Commander,” Billups replied. “Fault sensors detected a slight programming mistake in the latest batch of isolinear chips. Including the chips that regulate the fault sensors.”
“I see,” Ransom blinked.
“I’ve got a team swapping out all the affected chips right now,” Billups went on. “They should be finished in about an hour.”
“You’re saying we can’t use turbolifts until then?” Freeman asked.
“Oh, you can use them,” Billups said. “They just won’t take the occupants where they want to go.”
“Great,” Freeman groaned. “Looks like the Jefferies tubes are about to receive a brief surge in popularity.”
“Alright,” Ransom grinned. “Nothing like a little impromptu cardio to keep you sharp.”
“Let’s hope the Zalosians feel the same way,” Freeman said. “Unless I come up with an excuse for keeping them on a single deck until…” She attempted to exit the turbolift only to bump head-first into the doors. “Ow!”
“Oh, the turbolift doors seem to be affected to,” Billups added. “They will apparently open and close at random.”
“No kidding,” Freeman winced rubbing her forehead. “Keep me informed. Freeman out.”
“Don’t worry, Captain. I got this,” Ransom grinned flexing his muscles before prying the turbolift doors open with his bare hands. “Yeaaagghhh!”
“Good work, Jack…aahhhhhh!” Freeman yelped as a sleek, streamlined figure suddenly whizzed past just as she and Ransom exited the turbolift. “What the…?!”
“Wheeeeee!” A happy dolphin calf giggled while wearing a specialized moisturizing romper, Taylor rig and mini anti-grav harness. “Squeaky! Squeaky! Clicky! Clicky!”
“Oh, no,” Freeman groaned. “Not again!”
“Oops! Sorry, about that, Captain Freeman,” Ms. Arnemann, one of the Cerritos’ childcare providers said running up to her. “A few kids mistakenly fed Haeun a large batch of honey butter pineapple squid for lunch.”
“Huh?” Ransom did a double-take. “They gave a baby dolphin sugar?!”
“Play free! Play free!” Haeun squeaked cheerfully racing off. “Hehehehehe!”
“Haeun! Come back here!” Arnemann shouted chasing after the hyperactive cetacean calf. “No, that room isn’t a playground! It’s the Armory!”
“Uh, maybe we should get off this deck,” Freeman gulped heading for the nearest maintenance hatch. “For our own safety…uh, I mean to inspect the safety of our Zalosian guests.”
“Good idea,” Ransom nodded as he and Freeman quickly made their way through the Jefferies tubes.
“I just hope Billups’ pet ferret hasn’t managed to escape again,” Freeman said emerging onto another deck. “Okay, the VIP quarters for the Zalosians are right over…”
“Squookoom!”
“Aaahhhhhh!” Ransom yelped as a small, strange, winged tentacled creature suddenly flew out from a nearby research lab.
“What the heck?!” Freeman ducked and peeked into the lab which was filled with more than a dozen other winged tentacled creatures hooting and flying about.
“Wow, these test results are amazing!” Tendi gushed making notes on a padd while standing in the middle of the lab. “This is going to be my best medical side project yet!”
“Ensign!” Freeman barked. “Just what the blue blazes is going on here?”
“Oh, hello, Captain!” Tendi chirped cheerfully. “You’re just in time to witness my latest experiment involving osmotic cuttlefish bats.”
“Osmotic what?” Ransom gawked in surprise as a few more winged tentacled creatures flew out and latched onto him. “Hey! Get off me!”
“Osmotic cuttlefish bats,” Tendi repeated helpfully. “Their nidamental glands produce a unique secretion filled with regenerative and anti-aging enzymes.”
“I see,” Freeman blinked.
“I initially attempted to genetically alter this colony of cuttlefish bats to increase their enzyme outputs,” Tendi explained. “But I accidentally edited a few other genes by mistake and ended up making the cuttlefish bats capable of bioelectrogenesis instead.”
“What?!” Freeman yelped.
ZZZAAAPPPPPP!
“YAAAHHHHHH!” Ransom cried as one of the cuttlefish bats zapped him.
“See? They’re functioning perfectly,” Tendi beamed proudly as Ransom was zapped again by the creatures. “This natural application of controlled electric shocks is sure to revolutionize the field of bioneurostimulation therapy.”
“These cuttlefish bats aren’t poisonous, are they?” Freeman asked warily.
“Just a little bit,” Tendi said. “But only when they eat. Osmotic cuttlefish bats are attracted to rich sources of highly concentrated proteins and muscular tissues. Both for feeding and mating purposes.”
“WHAT?!” Ransom cried as more cuttlefish bats swiftly descended on him.
ZZAAAPPPPPP! ZZAAAPPPPPP! ZZAAAPPPPPP!
“GAAAHHHHHH!”
“Wow, they really seem to like you, Commander,” Tendi commented innocently. “Osmotic cuttlefish bats are famous for their tenacity. Once they latch onto something they refuse to let go until they or the other party is dead.”
“WHAT?!” Ransom shrieked.
“O-kay,” Freeman gulped slowly backing away from lab. “Given the situation, I think’s it’s best if you remain here, Commander. Both for the sake of science and the peaceful operation of the rest of the ship.”
“WHAT?!” Ransom screamed once more before being dragged into the lab by the colony of excited osmotic cuttlefish bats. “WAIT! CAPTAIN! DON’T LEAVE! NOOOOOOOOO!”
ZZAAAPPPPPP! ZZAAAPPPPPP! ZZAAAPPPPPP!
“WAAAUUUGGGHHHHHH!”
“Sorry, Jack, but you’ll just have to take one for the team this time,” Freeman apologized as she quickly headed away from the lab. “I’ll make it up to you later…ah, finally.” Freeman stopped outside a set of VIP quarters. A small maintenance team was standing outside as well. “Everything ready for our guests, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, Captain,” Lieutenant Pon Darra reported. “We just finished completing the last of the special environmental requests now.”
“Excellent,” Freeman nodded.
“It wasn’t easy meeting all the requirements,” Pon Darra added checking a padd. “But we managed to do so after removing all of the VIP quarters’ bedding, replicators, artwork, carpeting, furniture…”
“That’s nice…wait, what?” Freeman did a take. “Why did you do that?”
“We had to, Captain,” Pon Darra defended. “Otherwise the atmospheric conditions would have dissolved them all. Which is to be expected when a species breathes a mixture of nitrogen, benzene and hydrogen fluoride.”
“What are you talking about? Our guests don’t breathe that!” Freeman snatched the padd from Pon Darra’s hands and quickly skimmed through it. “Lieutenant, we’re hosting Zalosian delegates, not Yalosians!”
“Really?” Pon Darra blinked rechecking the padd. “Oops. Sorry about that, Captain. Somebody must’ve made a slight spelling mistake.”
“No, you think?” Freeman grumbled rubbing her temples. “How many times do I have to tell people to always double-check their work without relying on autocorrect?! We need to fix this and return the VIP quarters to the proper configurations before the Zalosians arrive…”
“Bridge to Captain Freeman,” Dirk’s voice came over the comm. “A Zalosian transport has just dropped out of warp.”
“Too late,” Freeman groaned.
“They’ve attempted to hail us,” Dirk continued. “But we’re still having trouble with the ship’s transponder identification and subspace marker confirmation processors so have yet to verify their identity…”
“Skip it. We’re out of time,” Freeman ordered. “We can’t leave the Zalosian delegates waiting.” She quicky tapped her combadge. “Freeman to Transporter Room One. Beam me into the transporter room and prepare to receive the Zalosian delegation immediately.”
“‘Fraid I can’t do that, Captain,” Chief Lundy responded.
“What?!” Freeman gasped. “Why?”
“An engineer was running a final diagnostic check on the phase transition coils,” Lundy explained. “But mistakenly ran it on the primary energizing coils instead. The entire coil assembly is offline.”
“Sorry,” Rutherford’s voice was heard in the background. “My bad.”
“What?!” Freeman repeated yet again. “Ugh, fine. Never mind. We’ll use the cargo transporters instead.”
“Can’t. They’re down too,” Lundy said.
“Of course they are,” Freeman groaned. “Okay, we’ll just have to improvise.” She tapped her combadge again. “Freeman to Bridge. Contact the Zalosians and tell them they have the honor of transporting our guests to our transporter room. After I give the word.”
“Understood,” Dirk acknowledged.
“Freeman out,” Freeman swiftly closed the comm and sped through the ship before dashing into Transporter Room One. “Alright. I’m here. Is everything ready?”
“Yes, Captain,” Boimler nodded standing near the transporter console next to Lundy. Rutherford was working on an open panel in the background. “The Bridge reports the Zalosians are standing by for transport.”
“Huh?” Freeman glanced at Boimler in confusion. “You’re not the Zalosians’ liaison officer. Where’s Stevens?”
“In Sickbay,” Boimler reported. “His mistakenly ordered a salad with banana peppers for lunch which caused him to suffer a severe case of heartburn.”
“Great,” Freeman groaned. “Just great.”
“Stevens chose me as his liaison replacement before insisting on getting his stomach pumped,” Boimler added. “Thought come to think of it, he was kind of disoriented from the heartburn at the time and might have mistakenly pointed to me instead of Lieutenant Lemonts…”
“Never mind. I’m sure you’re well-qualified,” Freeman waved straightening her uniform before tapping her combadge. “Freeman to Bridge. Hail the Zalosians and signal them they may beam their passengers aboard when ready.”
“Understood,” Dirk replied.
