From: efb@mentor.cc.purdue.edu (Fred Byon)
Subject: BubbleGum Trek Part 2 - "Bievenue A La Enterprise!"
Organization: Purdue University Computing Center
Date: Wed, 16 Dec 1992 02:15:39 GMT

PART 2:  BIEVENUE A LA ENTERPRISE! 

(SCENE:  The USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D in spacedock over Earth.)

PICARD (voiceover):  Captains Log, Stardate 45835.7.  We have enjoyed the
brief rest here on Earth and are ready to leave for an expedition of the
unexplored Class-M planets in the Tyrannis System at 0700 tomorrow.  We have
also been informed by Starfleet that the two graduates of the newly opened  
Starfleet Academy branch in the Japanese city of Mega-Tokyo will now be serving
on our ship.

(SCENE:  Transporter room three.  Chief O'Brien is there as Nene and Priss
materialize on the transporter pad.  Priss then checks to see if her body
parts are intact)
 
NENE:  What's wrong?

PRISS:  Funny...I felt...nothing for a second.

NENE:  Of course.  During a transport, your molecules go through thin air.

PRISS:  Molly-cules?  What's that?

NENE (sighs):  Never mind.  (In her mind)  And the AD Police thought I was
weird.
  
(Priss and Nene notice O'Brien behind the control panel)

O'BRIEN:  Greetings, ladies.  Welcome to the Enterprise.  I'm transporter
chief Miles O'Brien.  (To Nene)  What is your name, Ensign?

NENE:  Nene Romanova, sir.

O'BRIEN:  Nene.  What a lovely name.  (to Priss)  And yours?

PRISS:  What does it matter to you, bub?

O'BRIEN (startled):  I beg your pardon?  Lieutenant, I was only asking for
your...

PRISS:  And I'm saying what does it matter.  Say, you have some stupid-
sounding accent.  I bet you're probably Irish.  But then again, you don't look
very fat...

(O'Brien was about to get mad just as Commander Will Riker came in)

RIKER:  Welcome to the ship.  I'm Commander Will Riker.  (notices O'Brien's
red face)  Er, something wrong, Mr. O'Brien?

PRISS:  Yeah, for an Irishman, he doesn't have a beer belly...

NENE (covering up Priss's mouth):  Heh heh heh.  Lieutenant Priss here has
an...unusual sense of humor.

RIKER:  Umm, yes, so I noticed.  Anyway, welcome to the Enterprise.  I'm the
ship's first officer.  Normally the Captain would be here with me, but he 
has other things to tend to at the moment.  

PRISS:  Oh, so he's into sex too, like that Kirk guy?

RIKER:  SEX?  Lieutenant, Captain Picard isn't married.  And he isn't like
Jim Kirk, I can assure you.  (in his mind)  But then again, what's with
him and Beverly?  (to Priss)  Trust me, at this moment, he is planning 
tommorow's agenda at Tyrannis. 

NENE (whispering to Priss):  Priss, start acting like an officer!

PRISS:  Yeah, well I bet you'll say something stupid too!

NENE:  NOT!  

RIKER:  Ladies, ladies!  You just came on the ship.  Now is not the time to
bicker over personal squabbles.

PRISS:  Yeah, Nene.

(Nene glares back at Priss)

RIKER:  Anyway, you should get accustomed to the ship now because we'll be
leaving for the Tyrannis system tomorrow morning.  I think we 
can squeeze in a workstation training session or two there.  I believe we should
have some duty schedules for you two.  Any questions?

NENE:  When do we eat?

PRISS:  I TOLD YOU!!  (starts laughing)

(Nene chases Priss down the deck corridor as Riker looks on in bewilderment)

O'BRIEN:  Strange, I thought the Academy grads were top-notch nowadays.

RIKER:  We'll see.

(SCENE:  Starfleet Command HQ in San Francisco.  We see Admiral Bennett Kyson in
Starfleet's main communications center)

ADMIRAL KYSON:  Any luck yet, Lieutenant?

LIEUTENANT #1:  Negative.  I have a bad feeling that something's happened to
the Mega-Tokyo.

LIEUTENANT #2:  But we don't know that for sure.  I think Captain Stingray
said that there were some communique problems when the ship left spacedock a
year ago.

LIEUTENANT #1:  Yeah, but it's never taken THIS long to get some kind of
acknowledgement.

ADMIRAL KYSON:  Has there been any vessels that have seen the Mega-Tokyo over
the past 24 hours, Federation or otherwise?

LIEUTENANT #1:  Negative again, sir.  The USS Nikaku orbited around Starbase
74 along with the Mega-Tokyo, but that was three days ago.  At last report,
the ship was supposed to be at Dormaila III yesterday.  And the Federation
representative there reports no starship in that sector. 

ADMIRAL KYSON:  Okay, well, try to send another subspace message.  This time,
on ALL frequencies.

LIEUTENANT #2:  Aye, sir...wait, Admiral, my panel isn't...working.

ADMIRAL KYSON:  What?  What are you talking about?

LIEUTENANT #1:  Neither is mine.  Seems that...all systems just died!

(Suddenly lights flicker and dim in the communication center)

COMMANDER TOMMY HWANG (through speaker):  Commander Hwang to Admiral Kyson!
There seems to be a massive power loss!  Can't switch to auxillary power!
We lost everyting!

(Suddenly the lights go out completely and the center is in complete darkness)

LIEUTENANT #1:  Who pulled out the plug?

ADMIRAL KYSON:  BAKA!  That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever...

LIEUTENANT #2:  Wait!  Now what's...

(The viewscreens come back on, with Largo's evil grin on the screen)

LIEUTENANT #1:  What the hell...

LARGO (grinning and slobbering):  Welcome to...the wild side.

ADMIRAL KYSON:  Who are you?  No, change that...WHAT are you?

LARGO:  Oh...my apologies.  I am Largo, the NEW ruler of the universe. 

ADMIRAL KYSON:  New..ruler?  What the heck are you talking about?

LARGO:  So I suppose you're a representative of...Starfleet?  The great, all-
powerful military organization in the universe?  All powerful to everyone
...all races, all groups...except for ME!

ADMIRAL KYSON:  You look like some demented Ferrengi to me!  If this
transmission is coming from a Ferrengi vessel, I'm gonna...

LARGO:  Ah, trust me Admiral, this is no joke.  I'm sure that the Federation
is very, well, ANXIOUS to meet me.  So...here I am.

ADMIRAL KYSON:  I still say this is a joke!  Lieutenant, seek out the source of
the transmission and cut it off!

LIEUTENANT #1:  I can't, Admiral, my panel is still not working!

LIEUTENANT #2:  Neither is mine.

LARGO:  Now are you convinced, Admiral?

ADMIRAL KYSON (getting more upset):  All right, WHO are you and what
do you want?

LARGO:  I told you!...oh, perhaps you need more...information, I suppose.
All right.  As I said, I am Largo, the immortal leader of the Genom 
Comglomerate.  Over three hundred years ago, we were a power machine-making
company destined to rule the Earth.  We specialized in...boomers.

ADMIRAL KYSON:  Boomies?  WHAT are those?

LIEUTENANT #1 (to Lieutenant #2):  What's a boomie?

LARGO:  What?  You've never heard of a...boomer?

(Admiral Kyson shakes his head)

LARGO:  Ah, all right, perhaps this picture will tell you...

(Viewscreen picture changes to Largo's 24th century Boomer army.)

ADMIRAL KYSON:  Huh!  They look like androids to me!  Geez...you sure have so...
many of them!

LARGO:  Impressive, you would agree, Admiral?

ADMIRAL KYSON:  Well, even an army THAT big probably wouldn't destroy a
starship!

LARGO (laughing):  Wanna bet...Admiral?

(Viewscreen changes to a shot of the Romulan Neutral Zone with remnants
and debris of the USS Mega-Tokyo.  Admiral Kyson stands agape when he sees the
picture)

LIEUTENANT #1:  Oh...my...god...

LIEUTENANT #2:  I don't....believe it...

LARGO (grinning):  Believe it, and believe it well.  This occured only a few
hours ago at what you call the Romulan Neutral Zone.  My boomers were 
certainly no match for that puny starship of yours.

ADMIRAL KYSON:  PUNY!  What are you talking about!!!!  That is...well, was...
a Typhoon class starship!  It's almost as strong as our Galaxy class...!!!

LARGO:  Save your breath, Admiral.  Hear me now and hear me well.  As you can
see, it is...inevitable that I, and I alone, will be the NEW conquerer of the
universe.  I am only giving the Federation and Starfleet Command twenty four
hours to surrender to me.

ADMIRAL KYSON:  BAKA!  We won't do it!

LARGO:  "Baka" my ass, Admiral.  That is pretty much your only option.  If you
surrender now, we may be not so harsh to the low-life forms of the universe.
But if you don't....then you will go through...the wild side.  (Big loud 
evil laugh)

ADMIRAL KYSON:  The "wild side"?

LARGO:  Yes, the wild side.  If you don't surrender within the next day, you
can expect...another example of the awesome power I hold.  Since you just 
mentioned Galaxy class starships...well, I won't go into that now.  Twenty
four hours, Admiral.

(Largo's face disappears from the screen.  Suddenly the lights and panels in
the communication center come back on.)

LIEUTENANT #1:  Admiral, all systems now restored.

LIEUTENANT #2:  What are we going to do now, Admiral?

ADMIRAL KYSON (taps his communicator):  Communique center to Commander Tommy
Hwang.  Did you see the transmission?

COMMANDER HWANG:  Yes, sir.  Recommend that the Federation and Starfleet have
an joint emergency meeting...

ADMIRAL KYSON (ANGRY):  WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT!  Send out a message to ALL
Federation starships, starbases, and member worlds to be on the the lookout
for this Largo!  Also have ALL starships and starbases on amber alert!

COMMANDER HWANG:  That's YELLOW alert, sir.

ADMIRAL KYSON:  WHATEVER!!!

COMMANDER HWANG:  But sir, I think it would be better that if we consulted
the President and the Federation High Council first...

ADMIRAL KYSON:  I will deal with them personally, Commander!  Follow your orders
or I'm sending you back to the Academy!!!!!

COMMANDER HWANG (nervous):  YES SIR!!!!!!

(SCENE:  Somewhere in outer space.  We see an interior shot of the
Borg ship with Largo's boomer army floating in the middle of it) 

LARGO:  Ah, thank you for providing the...accomodations for our message.

BORG:  YOU ARE...WELCOME.  NORMALLY, WE WOULD FEEL THAT COOPERATION WOULD
BE...IRRELEVANT.  BUT...WE RESEERVE THE RIGHT TO MAKE EXCEPTIONS.

LARGO:  But of course, but of course.  I'm sure you would agree that we cer-
tainly got Starfleet's attention.  Now...any ideas as to what we should do
now?

BORG:  PROCESSING...SUGGEST THAT WE CARRY OUT CURRENT PLAN.  WAITING FOR
SURRENDER WOULD BE MOST LIKELY IMPROBABLE AND...IRRELEVANT.

LARGO:  Ah, I'm glad we think alike.  I guess we all work well as machines.

BORG:  VERY LIKELY ANALYSIS.

LARGO (looking around):  Hmm...it's amazing to see the great masses of people
here!

BORG:  WE ARE NOT ORGANIC BEINGS.

LARGO:  Yes, I can see that.  But these...things were organic at one time,
correct?

BORG:  CORRECT.  WE HAVE SUCCESSFULLY ENTRAPED MANY ORGANIC INTELLIGENT
SPECIES FROM VARIOUS STAR SYSTEMS AND TURNED THEM INTO WHAT WE ARE NOW.

LARGO:  Er, just curious...do they stay...as machines...forever?

BORG:  AS LONG AS OUR INTELLIGENCE REMAINS, YES, WE INTEND IT THAT WAY.
WE HAVE ONLY A FEW CASES IN WHICH AN ORGANIC BEING ESCAPES.  WE CAN RECALL
ONE SUCH CASE INVOLVING A...STARFLEET CAPTAIN.

LARGO:  Oh, really?

BORG:  WE WANTED TO HAVE A SPOKESPERSON FOR THE BORG.   WE MANAGED TO CAP-
TURE HIM FROM HIS STARSHIP AND WE ASSIMILATED HIM INTO ONE OF US.  BUT HIS CREW
RESCUED HIM AND DESTROYED ONE OF OUR SHIPS.

LARGO:  And...what was the captain's name?

BORG:  CAPTAIN JEAN-LUC PICARD, OF THE USS ENTERPRISE, REGISTRATION 
NCC-1701-D.  WE NAMED HIM...LOCOTUS.

LARGO:  The ENTERPRISE?  Starfleet's flag vessel?  Wait...it's a Galaxy
class Starship, correct?

BORG:  CORRECT.

(Largo then remembers what Admiral Kyson said about Galaxy Class Starships)

LARGO:  I must thank you.

BORG:  THANKS?...FOR WHAT...REASON?

LARGO:  For giving us what our next target will be.....

COMMERCIAL

(Kaori Makimura is standing in front of a stove in a kitchen)

KAORI:  OK, are there still any City Hunter fans that still don't know what
Ryo Saeba is REALLY like?  Last time.

(Kaori takes out an egg)

KAORI:  This is Ryo.

(Kaori puts the egg on a frying pan.  She then takes out one of her patented
1000-ton hammers and hits the pan squarely.  She ends up busting up the
entire stove and the entire house falls down around her)

KAORI (showing what was left of the pan and the egg):  This is Ryo when he
flirts with other women.  Any questions?

(SCENE:  2200 Earth hours.  Another exterior shot of the Enterprise in 
spacedock, and then to Priss's quarters.  Priss is wearing a nightgown)

PRISS:  Nice place...I could live here forever...(yawns)  Guess I'll get 
some sl...

(Priss then hears a chime go off)

PRISS:  Huh?  What's that?  Oh well...

(Priss pulls the covers of her bed over herself.  She then hears her
communicator go off)

PRISS:  Geez, where are all these STOOPID noises coming from...

(The communicator makes the same noise again)

PRISS:  Oh...(tries to remember how to activate the communicator)  Oh, yeah.

(Priss picks up the communicator from the lamp table and taps it)

PRISS:  Who the hell are you and what do you want?

NENE'S VOICE:  Priss, it's me!  Didn't you hear your door chime go off?

PRISS:  Door...chime?  I thought they went "DING DONG" or something.

NENE'S VOICE:  Not in THIS Century.  Lemme in.

PRISS:  Oh, all right.  Come in. 

(Door opens and Nene enters.  Nene is still in her red uniform)

NENE:  Like it here?

PRISS:  Yeah, it's like...being in a hotel bedroom or something.  I dunno,
though.  Everything here seems so...simple...

NENE:  Yeah, actually, the entire ship is computer-generated.

PRISS:  Really?

NENE:  All operations on the Enterprise is controlled by the ship's all-
powerful computer.  It certainly simplifies things that we consider common
in our century.  Of course, that doesn't mean that we humans
don't suffer any problems in life.  You should have said something to the
computer by now, have you?

PRISS:  Er, well, like what?

NENE:  Lights.

(Suddenly the lights go out and they are in darkness)

NENE:  That, of course, is a simple example.  Lights on.  (lights come back
on)  Have you tried the food replicator?

PRISS:  Food...replicator?  

NENE:  Yeah, it makes generic but realistic food.

PRISS (grins):  I bet you've already abused it a lot.    

NENE (smirks back):  OK, I'll show you how it works.  What would you like?

PRISS:  Hmm...how about a wine cooler with green grapes?

NENE:  Okay.  Computer, one wine cooler, made with ripe green grapes.

(Food replicator becomes active and the wine cooler bottle materializes on the
replicator pad.  Nene picks up the bottle and gives it to Priss) 

NENE:  Here you go.  Now what should I have...how 'bout some ice cream.  
Computer, one...

PRISS:  ...gallon of chocolate-vanilla-strawberry-peach-tutti-frutti-banana
ice cream.

NENE:  Huh?

(The gallon of ice cream appears)

NENE:  Uhhhhhhhhh....how did you know?

(Priss whistles innocently)

(They both eat their commodities.  Priss is just finishing up the wine
cooler while Nene scraps up what is left of the multi-flavored ice cream)

PRISS (burps):  Hey Nene, do you think you could...tap into the ship's com-
puter?

NENE (BIGGER burp):  I think that would be nearly impossible.

PRISS:  How?  I thought you were the king computer hacker of all of Mega-
Tokyo.

NENE:  Computer technology has come a long way since the 21st century. 
Since the Enterprise's computer system is a LOT more powerful that what we've
been accustomed to, it would probably take...a miracle to tap into classified
Starfleet information without alerting security.  Actually, I DID manage to
get into Federation files at the Academy...but that was TOO easy.  The
Big-E's computer would be a LOT tougher.

PRISS:  I dunno...how powerful is the computer?  I mean...can it talk to you
or something?

NENE:  Sure.  That SHOULDN'T be new; besides, boomers can talk.  Do you want
to see me talk to the computer?

PRISS:  Okay, shoot.

NENE:  Computer.

COMPUTER VOICE:  WORKING.

PRISS:  Wow, it's a woman's voice.

NENE:  Identify me.

COMPUTER VOICE:  ENSIGN NENE ROMANOVA, USS ENTERPRISE. 

NENE:  And how did I do at Starfleet Academy?

COMPUTER VOICE:  FINISHED WITHIN UPPER THIRD OF GRADUATING CLASS AT THE
STARFLEET ACADEMY AUXILLARY BRANCH IN MEGA-TOKYO.  ALSO HAD REPUTATION
OF SKIPPING CLASS.

(Priss laughs lightly)

NENE:  And what are my primary duties on the Enterprise?

COMPUTER VOICE:  ENSIGN ROMANOVA'S CURRENT DUTY SCHEDULE:  FULL TIME SHIFT
IN ENGINEERING, UNDER COMMAND OF LT. COMMANDER GEORDI LAFORGE, AND PART TIME
SHIFT IN THE HELM OF THE SHIP, UNDER COMMAND OF CAPTAIN JEAN-LUC PICARD AND
COMMANDER WILLIAM RIKER.

NENE:  Impressed?

PRISS:  Hmmm....I'd like to see more.

NENE:  Okay, if you insist.  Computer, who is the woman wearing the flimsy
nightgown?

PRISS:  HUH?

COMPUTER VOICE:  LIEUTENANT JUNIOR GRADE PRISS, USS ENTERPRISE.

NENE:  And how did she do at Stafleet Academy?

COMPUTER VOICE:  FINISHED WITHIN BOTTOM THIRD OF GRADUATING CLASS AT THE
STARFLEET ACADEMY AUXILLARY BRANCH IN MEGA-TOKYO, BUT RECEIVED PROMOTION
BECAUSE OF EXPERTISE IN COMBAT.  BEST KNOWN FOR INJURING THREE ACADEMY 
INSTRUCTORS DURING TRAINING.

(Nene starts laughing)

PRISS:  HEY!  How does this thing know... 

NENE:  Hmm...let's see if I can think of something creative to ask...er,
computer, where was Priss and what was she doing at...1900 hours?

(Just as she asks that, Priss starts getting nervous)

COMPUTER VOICE:  LIEUTENANT JUNIOR GRADE PRISS WAS IN HER QUARTERS ENGAGED
IN SELF-SEXUAL GRATIFICATION.  SENSORS INDICATE THAT SHE WAS NAKED AND HER 
HANDS WERE ON VARIOUS SENSITIVE PARTS OF HER BODY. 

(Nene cracks up hysterically.  Priss starts getting mad.)

NENE (still laughing):  Gosh, Priss, you shouldn't be doing THAT!

PRISS (very angry):  GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR............

NENE (yet still laughing):  Um, computer, do you have a recording of Priss's
"self-sexual gratification"?

(Shot of the deck corridor as we see Nene literally get thrown out of Priss's 
quarters.  She lands head first into the wall and falls to the floor)

(THE NEXT MORNING: 0650 Hours.  STARDATE 45841.2)

(SCENE:  Sylia Stingray's apartment.  Sylia is just getting up, wearing a
robe and nightgown.  She yawns and walks over to her portable computer ter-
minal.  The computer bleeps as she turns it on)

COMPUTER VOICE:  GOOD MORNING, MISS STINGRAY.  BREAKFAST?

SYLIA:  Coffee, please.

(A cup of coffee materializes right next to the terminal.  Sylia takes a sip)

SYLIA:  Computer, give me the news of the day.

(Screen lights up with lines of text.  Sylia expects to read the "same old
stuff" but her eyes lights up in instant surprise at this headline:

       USS MEGA-TOKYO DESTROYED

SYLIA:  The...Mega-Tokyo?  Not too surprising...I'd guess there would
be a starship named after this city.

(Sylia continues to read the article:

STARFLEET COMMAND HAS SUFFERED THE FIRST STARSHIP DESTRUCTION OF THE YEAR
AS THE USS MEGA-TOKYO WAS DESTROYED IN THE ROMULAN NEUTRAL ZONE.  IT IS
BELIEVED THAT ALL 654 CREWMEN, INCLUDING CAPTAIN MACKIE STINGRAY IV.... 

SYLIA:  Captain...Mackie...Stingray?  Must be a coincidence.  Wait a minute...
the...Fourth?  Computer, I'd like the family history of Captain Mackie
Stingray the Fourth, of the USS Mega-Tokyo.

(Screen changes to the Stingray IV family tree.  Sure enough, there are three
other Mackies before him, and the first Mackie had a sister named Sylia.)

SYLIA:  Oh...my...god.  I'm his...ancestor.  Computer, send me back to the
news article.

(Screen changes back to the news of the Mega-Tokyo's destruction.  Sylia con-
tinues to read the article:

...ARE FEARED DEAD.  IT HAS YET TO BE CONFIRMED EXACTLY WHEN THE SHIP WAS
DESTROYED, BUT ADMIRAL BENNETT KYSON OF STARFLEET'S COMMUNIQUE CENTER ES-
TIMATES THAT THE SHIP'S OBLITERATION OCCURRED AT 2240 HOURS LAST NIGHT.  
     THE APPARENT AGGRESSOR OF THE DESTRUCTION IS A LIVING ORGANISM THAT
CALLS HIMSELF...OR ITSELF, "LARGO"...

SYLIA:  LARGO?  Now this MUST be a coincidence...

(Continues reading the article:

...ACCORDING TO ADMIRAL KYSON, LARGO MANAGED TO JAM STARFLEET'S COMMUNIQUE
CENTER AND RESTRICTED ALL INCOMING AND OUTCOMING SUBSPACE MESSAGES...

Sylia then has flashbacks of what Genom has done in the past....)

SYLIA:  No.  No.  This CAN'T be...

...SO THAT IT CAN SEND A MESSAGE OF ITS OWN.  "LARGO" HAPPENS TO BE AN
APPARENT LEADER OF A GROUP CALLED "GENOM" THAT SPECIALIZES IN ANDROID-LIKE
BEINGS CALLED "BOOMERS"....

SYLIA:  LARGO...GENOM.......BOOMERS?  (exploding with rage) NO!!!!

(Sylia kicks the table that the computer termial is on, and the table, with
computer and coffee cup, smashes into the nearby wall.  The computer gives
off some small explosions before sputtering to death)

SYLIA (with vengeance):  Largo, you said you wanted me.  Now you got me.

(SCENE: 0715 Hours.  The Enterprise zooming through space.  Scene change to
the bridge where an edgy Captain Jean-Luc Picard enters the bridge from the
turbolift.  Commander Will Riker is there in the command chair.)

PICARD:  Number One, I DEMAND some information.  I've had a slew of crewmen
asking about some rumor regarding the destruction of a Federation starship...
(notices the yellow alert flashes going off).  And why are we on yellow
alert?

RIKER (getting out of the chair):  It's true.  We received this communique
from Starfleet Command about an hour ago.  Play the message, Mr. Worf.

WORF (in his security station):  Aye, sir.

(Enterprise viewscreen changes to a picture of Commander Tommy Hwang.
Picard sits in his chair and listens)

COMMANDER HWANG:  This is Commander Tommy Hwang, speaking on behalf of
Admiral Bennett Kyson, the co-supervisor of the Starfleet Communique Center.
This message is to go out to all Federation starships and starbases that
are active.  Around 2240 hours last night, the USS Mega-Tokyo, of the
Typhoon Class, registration NCC-2030, was destroyed at the border of
the Romulan Neutral Zone.  

(Picture changes to the debris of the Mega-Tokyo)

PICARD (astonished):  My god.

(Cmdr. Hwang's face comes back up)

COMMANDER HWANG:  The perpetrator is identified as some...immortal being
that calls himself "Largo".  "Largo" is the leader of some machine-making
company called "Genom" that specializes in android-like warrior machines
called "Boomers". 

(Pictures changes to Largo's boomer army.  Then Hwang's face comes back up)

COMMANDER HWANG:  At this time, we do not have any further information about
this Largo or Genom or these boomers; however, considering the apparent
power that these boomers have, Starfleet Command has taken the initiative.
Therefore, it is now ordered that ALL active Federation starships and
starbases be on YELLOW ALERT.  I repeat, ALL Federation starships and 
starbases are to be on YELLOW ALERT.  More information will be sent as it
becomes available.

(Picture returns to the familiar starfield.)

RIKER:  That's not all, Captain.  Admiral Kyson also sent a message, 
specifically for you.

PICARD:  Play it.

(Admiral Bennett Kyson now pops on the screen)

ADMIRAL KYSON:  Captain Picard, I know that you and your crew have been
rather stressed out lately, and the R&R was certainly beneficial for all of
you; however, once again Starfleet has to put yet...another difficult
task ahead of you.  
     I'm sure you have seen the transmission that Commander Hwang has given
to all Starfleet vessels, and what I have to say is related.  You are to
cancel the Tyrannis exploration mission and head to the Romulan Neutral
Zone to inspect the debris of the USS Mega-Tokyo.  I want a complete report
via subspace radio within the next few days.  The purpose of this is to
prevent another catastrophe such as the one we all have witnessed here.
     Also, I am particularly asking you, Picard, to...well, as the expression
goes, "keep your heads up".  This "Largo" HINTED...and I repeat, HINTED, that
your ship could be the next target.  Needless to say, exercise any and all
precautions necessary.

(Screen changes back to the starfield)

PICARD:  Analysis, Number One?

RIKER:  Well, whoever this "Largo" is certainly means business.

PICARD:  By the way, do we have clearance to enter the Neutral Zone?  And 
what are the chances that..."Largo" could be part of some Romulan terrorist
plot?

WORF:  Very unlikely, Captain.  Reports from various Starfleet patrol 
ships indicate that there have been no Romulan vessels within 10,000 
kilometers from the Zone in the past two weeks.  I have also received
clearance from Romulus for free entry into the Zone if necessary. 

PICARD:  Acknowledged, Mr. Worf.  (turns to the helm)  Ensign Ro, current
course?

RO LAREN:  Romulan Neutral Zone, warp five.  ETA currently set at three
and a half days.

PICARD:  Increase to warp six.  We have no time to waste.

RO LAREN:  Aye, sir.  New ETA estimated at two days, 7 hours.

PICARD (to Riker):  Will, who is..."Largo"?

RIKER:  The only thing "Largo" means to me is one of the Florida keys on
Earth.

PICARD:  That's what I would have said too, Number One.....

(SCENE:  Later that morning.  Nene reports to Engineering for the first time.
She is wearing her yellow uniform.  Lt. Commander Geordi LaForge is there
to meet her)
 
LAFORGE:  Ah, you must be Nene.  I'm Lt. Commander Geordi LaForge.  Hmmm...
noticing you won't be hard at all.

NENE:  Er, what do you mean, sir?

LAFORGE:  I don't meet a lot of redheads very often.

NENE (blushes):  Thanks a lot.  Um, can you show me to my workstation?
(notices Geordi's VISOR)  Say, what is that...thing on your head?

LAFORGE:  This?  Oh yeah, a lot of new graduates ask me that.  Basically,
it's a infared visual aid.  I was born blind at birth.

NENE:  You look like some...pop singer I've heard of in the 20th century.

LAFORGE:  Pop...singer?  Oh, you mean popular music, like rock 'n roll...

NENE:  Er, yeah.  I bet you could imitate him.

LAFORGE (showing Nene's workstation):  OK, here it is.  I'm sure the
Academy gave you the basics of this.  You should have no problem with it.
Say...your record at the Academy indicated that you were some...computer
hacker?  What's that?

NENE:  Oh, when I was growing up, I messed with computers a lot.  I got...
er...rather good at it.

LAFORGE:  Ah, so is that why you chose engineering?

NENE:  Yup.  I can show you what I can do...

LAFORGE (laughs lightly):  Er, good luck.

NENE:  What do you mean, sir?

LAFORGE:  Basically, your station simply tells the status of the warp
engines.  It's hard to do any manual controlling of the engines from your
station; only my more experienced people are working there.

NENE:  Well, I could try, can I?

LAFORGE (thinking that Nene can't do it):  Hmm...oh all right.  Just to make
you happy.

(Nene goes to her station.  She rapidly taps a lot of buttons on the console)

NENE:  There.

LAFORGE:  What did you do?

NENE:  I reconfigured the warp and impulse engines.

LAFORGE:  WHAT!!!!  What are you trying to...

ENSIGN IN ENGINEERING (from hallway):  Commander!  There is some kind of
chemical imbalance in the matter/antimatter mix!

ANOTHER ENSIGN:  Commander!  All dilithium power has shift to starboard side
of the ship!  I think were gonna...

LAFORGE:  I'll be right....whoops!

(Suddenly the ship tilts on one side.  Exterior shot of the Enterprise
travelling on one warp engine and on an axis.  Switch back to engineering where everyone loses their balance and crash into something)   

(Switch to Chief O'Brien's bedroom, where he and his wife Keiko are in
bed)

O'BRIEN:  Tough day yesterday.  I beamed aboard those two graduates of the
Academy in Mega-Tokyo.  

KEIKO:  Mego-Tokyo?  I've been there, once.  Nice city.  So what about it?

O'BRIEN:  I dunno, they seem so...weird.  

KEIKO:  How?

O'BRIEN:  The Russian, Ensign Romanova, from what I heard, she...eats like a
pig.  And Worf's new assistant security officer, what was her name?...Oh
yeah, Piss...

KEIKO:  Piss?  That's her name?

O'BRIEN:  Something like that.  She was very...RUDE to me yesterday, calling
me a fat Irishman.

KEIKO:  You kinda do look fat, Miles.

O'BRIEN:  Oh, really?  (Suddenly has a hungry look)  Just for that, I'm gonna
make you have another baby!

KEIKO:  Mmmmmmmmm, I like that.

(Suddenly, the ship turns on an axis, and we see O'Brien and Keiko fall out
of bed and roll straight to the wall.)

O'BRIEN:  What the hell.... 
 
(Cut to the bridge.  Picard is coming out of his ready room)

PICARD:  Ensign Ro, how much time....AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!

(As the ship tilts, Picard falls backward into his ready room.  He then
knocks over his desk and lands flat on his back.)

(Cut back to the bridge where Riker is hanging on to the captain's chair
for dear life)

RIKER (taps his communicator):  Engineering!  What the HELL is going on
down there?

LAFORGE (through intercom):  We have a massive chemical imbalance, Commander!
But I think I can get it under control in a few minutes!

(Soon enough, the ship tilts to its correct position)

(Back to engineering.  An angry Laforge comes back to Nene's station)

LAFORGE (taps his communicator):  Mr. Worf, casualty report?

WORF (through speaker):  All decks now reporting...only minor injuries
being reported.

NENE:  Er, sorry sir.

LAFORGE:  What the #&*%$*#* did you do that for?   

NENE:  You wanted to see what computer hacking was like.

LAFORGE (groans):  Next time, if you want to impress me, do it RIGHT.
You ought to be lucky that I'm in a good mood, today.  

(LaForge leaves)

NENE (to herself, grinning):  Ah, Nene, you'll fit right in!

(SCENE:  Later that same day.  Priss reports to duty for the first time
as she goes to Lt. Worf's quarters)

WORF:  Good afternoon, Lieutenant.

(Priss stands startled as she sees Worf for the first time)

PRISS:  Er....ah....uh....

WORF:  Is something wrong, Lieutenant?

PRISS:  Er, why do you have a big...BUTT for a head?

WORF:  I beg your pardon?  Miss Priss, I am a KLINGON.

PRISS:  Cling on?  Is there something that...clings on to you?

WORF (getting edgy):  Lieutenant, do not mock me.  You should have
learned the various Federation races at the Academy.

PRISS:  You're not...human?

WORF:  NO!  I mean...no, I am not.

PRISS:  You mean...there are non-human things on this ship?
 
WORF (getting upset):  Lieutenant, why are you sounding ignorant?

PRISS:  Geez, I'm sorry.  I don't meet people with "buttheads" all the time.

WORF (calming himself):  All right, lets get to business.  According to your
record at the academy, you show a HIGH level of expertise in weapondry and
unarmed combat.  At this time, I feel that you would be best suited for
deck security.  You will have an afternoon and early evening shift at deck
30.  I will have to remind you that things will be a...little tight for the
time being.

PRISS:  A little tight?  Gee, are Klingons...perverted?

WORF:  WHAT?

PRISS:  I mean, is it really necessary to comment on my tight-fitting 
uniform?

WORF (controlling his temper):  Miss Priss, I was NOT commenting on your
uniform.  I only get...attracted to females of my own species.

PRISS:  Oh, so you ARE perverted.  

WORF (groans):  What I meant to say by "a little tight" that we are currently
on yellow alert, and security measures have been increased tenfold. 

PRISS:  Oh, so is that what those yellow lights in the hall supposed to mean?

WORF (nodding):  A Federation starship was destroyed yesterday by some being
that calls himself..."Largo".

PRISS:  LARGO?

WORF:  Er, yes.  Do you know who this...Largo is?

PRISS (realizing that she is in a different time):  Er, NO!  I, um, get
excited at the wrong times, y'know. 

WORF:  I was asked by Captain Picard to increase security measures because
of the current crisis.  Starfleet informed the Captain that the Enterprise
could be Largo's next target.

PRISS:  Um, interesting.  Do you have a picture of this...Largo?

WORF:  I do have the file from Starfleet. 

(Worf punches in some keys on his computer terminal and Largo's ghastly
image appears on the screen.  Worf turns the screen to Priss's direction)

PRISS:  Gosh, he sure is...UGLY!  Um, thanks for satifying my curiosity.
Should I report to my shift?
 
WORF:  Please.  And lieutenant.

PRISS:  Yeah?

WORF:  Stop acting like a Klingon.

(Priss walks out.  As she takes the Turbolift to deck 30, she wonders if
it is the Largo she knew...) 

(SCENE:  Starbase 215, in the middle of nowhere.  Commodore Jeffrey 
McNickol gets up from bed)

MCNICKOL (yawns):  Ah, what time is it?  (looks at the wall clock)
Gosh, it's THAT late?  Better get dressed...

(McNickol tries to hurry up putting on his uniform.  He puts on his
uniform in 35 seconds)

MCNICKOL:  Hey, a new Universal Record for me!  (realizes that something
is missing from his chest).  Ulp!  Where's my combadge?

(He then opens a bunch of drawers and then finally finds it)

MCNICKOL:  Ah, here it is.  Wait...what's all this?

(McNickol finds a whole bunch of old photo albums and slides in the
same drawer.  He takes out an album and flips through it.  It contains
various pictures of boomers and Mega-Tokyo from the 21st century.)   

MCNICKOL:  Huh!  I was MEANT to throw all this out...seems to take up too
much space...

(He finds some old headlines of various Mega-Tokyo newspapers, containing
stuff on Genom and Largo.  There are also pictures of the AD Police, more
boomers, and the Knight Sabers.  He then finds a picture of Leon McNickol)

MCNICKOL:  Wait!  I know this guy!  I think he's my ancestor...yeah, he is!!!
 
(In the same picture, Daley Wong is standing next to him)

MCNICKOL:  Hey, could this be...maybe I should show this to the Admiral!

(McNickol jumps out of his quarters and into the deck corridor.  He then
notices the flashing yellow lights.  An Ensign is passing by)

MCNICKOL:  Excuse me, Ensign, do you know why we are on yellow alert?

ENSIGN:  Haven't heard the news yet, Commodore?  (McNickol shakes his
head)  The Mega-Tokyo was destroyed at the border of the Neutral Zone.

MCNICKOL:  Romulan sabotage?

ENSIGN:  Not likely.  Some guy that calls himself..."Largo" claimed
responsibility for it.  All Federation-operated ships and bases were put
on yellow alert as a result.

MCNICKOL:  Lar-go?

ENSIGN:  That's his name.  Sorry Commodore, I have to go.  (darts down the
hall)

MCNICKOL:  Largo...Largo...where have I heard that name before?
 
(Commodore McNickol enters Admiral Sandra Wong's plush office.  She appears
rather unpleasant)

ADMIRAL WONG:  Commodore, where have you been?

MCNICKOL:  My apologies, Admiral, I must have had one too many glasses of
Romulan ale last night.

ADMIRAL WONG:  I'm sure you realize as second-in-command of this starbase,
you have to get to a level of integrity.  Besides, that's what Starfleet is
all about, isn't it?

MCNICKOL:  So your saying...

ADMIRAL WONG:  You better stop acting like some party animal or I'm gonna
transfer you.

MCNICKOL:  Geez, I said I'm sorry, didn't I?  Besides, there seems to be
nothing going on here...I mean, except for this current crisis.

ADMIRAL WONG:  Oh, you already heard about it?

MCNICKOL:  Talked to an ensign passing by.  Could I have the full details,
Admiral?

ADMIRAL WONG:  Sure.  (gives McNickol the computer padd containing the
USS Mega-Tokyo's destruction).  As you will read, Admiral Kyson gave us
a 15 to 20 percent chance of us being this...Genom's next target.  We're
in the middle of nowhere, as you know...

MCNICKOL:  Hmm...Largo....Genom....Boomers...Largo...Genom...Boomers...
(He reads the padd over and over again)  Admiral, which ship is assigned 
for the investigation?  

ADMIRAL WONG:  It's Picard's ship, the Enterprise.  Er, Commodore, you
seem rather interested in this.  Any particular reason?

MCNICKOL:  Admiral, patch a communique to Starfleet.  I want to board the
Enterprise.

ADMIRAL WONG (puzzled):  Why?

MCNICKOL:  Well, it SEEMS that no one knows who Largo is...except for me.

ADMIRAL WONG:  And what do you know?

MCNICKOL:  Probably more than what all the read admirals of Starfleet know.
No, just kidding. (laughs)  Seriously, as you know, I am designated as
one of Starfleet's historians, and I just so happen to have a TON of old
pictures and slides that contain information on this Genom and boomers that 
are dated from the early 21st century.

ADMIRAL WONG:  But how do we know this Largo is the same as...that Largo?

MCNICKOL:  I think there is a very definite chance of that, Admiral.  The
Genom Conglomerate in the 21st century specialized in boomers and they raged
havoc in the Japanese city of Mega-Tokyo.  During that time, one of Genom's
leaders was named Meson, also known as...Largo.  And this Largo looks just
the same as THAT Largo, as you would put it.  I simply cannot believe that
this could just be a coincidence.

ADMIRAL WONG:  But Largo would have to be...about 360 years old now.  And
he...no, it...doesn't look THAT old.

MCNICKOL:  That could be the only glitch in all of this, but I think there
should be a rational explanation.  Now that you brought all this up, (brings
out the picture of Leon and Daley) take a look at this.  I think this could
be a relative of yours.

ADMIRAL WONG (looking at the picture):  Blond hair...doofy looking...well,
he could be related.

MCNICKOL:  His name is Daley Wong.  And the guy next to him is my great-great-
great-great grandfather, Leon.  They both worked for the AD Police, the
"keystone cops" of Mega-Tokyo.  They investigated Genom's boomer rampage
during the time.  Anyway, see if you can patch that message to Starfleet.
I want to be on that ship.

ADMIRAL WONG:  Very well.  At least I can get rid of you for a while.  I'll
give your testimony to Starfleet and they SHOULD be able to give you
clearance.

MCNICKOL:  Thanks, ma'am.  (McNickol Leaves) 

ADMIRAL WONG (still looking at the picture):  Computer, give me the family
history of the Wong family.  

(Screen fills with the family history.  Sure enough there is a Daley Wong
at the top)

ADMIRAL WONG:  Well, I guess this family has come a long way...    

(SCENE:  The next day.  The Enterprise is still en route to the Romulan
Neutral Zone.  We now switch to sickbay where Wesley Crusher is twiddling
his thumbs on one of the medibeds.  Doctor Beverly Crusher is in her
lab working on various cell cultures) 

WESLEY:  Mom, I'm...bored.  Gosh, I can't believe I even said that.

DR. CRUSHER:  The great Wesley Crusher bored?  And on a ship that he served
on for a few years?  As a famous Vulcan ambassador would say, "Fascinating."

WESLEY:  I mean, I can't find anything good to do.  I'm MORE than ready for
this special Academy assignment that Riker is to give me, but now I have to
wait because of the "Largo" thing...

DR. CRUSHER:  Well, I couldn't blame Starfleet on this one.  I'm having
a hard time swallowing a bunch of...robots destroying a starship.  I don't
think a million Datas could beat up the Enterprise.

WESLEY:  Gosh, Mom, don't even think of that! 

DR. CRUSHER:  Sorry.

WESLEY:  Um, say, I heard that some Mega-Tokyo grads are serving on the
ship.

DR. CRUSHER:  Ah...would you like to see my impersonation of Counselor
Troi?  I sense...great passion and womanizing!

WESLEY:  MOM!

DR. CRUSHER:  Seriously, Wes, I think they're a bit too old for you.

WESLEY:  Well, I can still be friends with them, can I?  Besides, it beats
being a log in sickbay.

DR. CRUSHER:  Well...I can't have you in sickbay all day, of course; I have
to work on these possible cures for Mudd Disease...hmm, I guess it's a 
good idea.  

(Dr. Crusher goes over to her computer terminal and punches in some keys
Nene's and Priss's files appear on the screen)

DR. CRUSHER:  Let's see....now Ensign Romanova could be hard to contact..
according to this, she has an extra shift today.

WESLEY:  Why would Geordi do that?

DR. CRUSHER:  Remember yesterday when the ship almost turned upside-down?
She was the one who did it.

WESLEY:  Oh. 

DR. CRUSHER:  Now Lieutenant Junior Grade Priss might be easier.  She's
free after this afternoon.  I'll see if I can get in touch with her and 
arrange for you two to do something together.  

WESLEY:  OH BOY!

DR. CRUSHER:  Wes, I thought that you just wanted to be friends.

WESLEY:  Oh yeah, that's right....

(SCENE:  Deck 30 of the Enterprise.  Priss is walking back and forth like
a soldier)

PRISS:  Geez...boring as hell.  (feels her uniform pocket)  Eh, what's
this?

(Priss yanks out a 500 yen coin)

PRISS:  Now where did this come from?  Hmmm...let's see, let's set this
to "KILL".

(Priss unholsters her phaser and sets it on "kill".  She then tosses the
coin into the air and fires.  The phaser beam disintegrates the coin.)

PRISS:  Direct hit!  (blows into the phaser like a smouldering gun)

DATA:  Excuse me.

PRISS:  Huh?

(Priss turns around and sees Lt. Commander Data)

PRISS:  Who the hell are you?

DATA:  Lieutenant, that is not how you address a senior officer.  In
any case, I would like to remind that, by Starfleet regulations, that is
an improper use of a phaser.

PRISS:  Whadayya mean, "improper use"?  I wasn't shooting this at anybody.

DATA:  Correct.  However, there is still potential risk of injury to the
self or others if a phaser is used inappropriately.  If you so wish to
practice shooting skills, it can be arranged at the shooting range.

PRISS:  Sheesh, are you for...REAL?

DATA:  Since you can see me, and I can see you, it would be logical to
conclude that we both co-exist.

PRISS:  Oh, jeeeeeezz, like what planet are you from?  I guess you're not
human...

DATA:  I do not belong to any race.  I am an android.

PRISS:  Android?  

DATA:  A machine.  I am composed of many computer circutrites, and I am
capable of doing many extraordinary feats that humans or other races cannot
do.

PRISS:  Like what?

DATA:  Specify.

PRISS:  Okay...can you tell me who I am?

DATA:  Why do you wish to know your name, when you already know what it is?

PRISS:  NO NO NO!  I want to see if you can find out what it is.

DATA:  All right.  (brief pause)  The Enterprise currently has 50 crewmen
with the rank of "Lieutenant Junior Grade".  I need more information about
yourself to process.

PRISS:  Okay...I only have one name.

DATA:  One name?  It is rather unusual for humans to have only one name.
Typical Terran societies have at least two names, a first and a last.  
Most terran societies also have a middle name as well.  There are currently
105 Terran countries that have citizens with more that one name.  About 80% of 
those have a middle name as well....

PRISS (somewhat annoyed):  Look, just find out who I am.

DATA:  Now searching...you must be Priss. 

PRISS:  Bingo.

DATA:  "Bingo"...a game that is played by many Terran children at early age.
It consists of placing plastic markers on individual game boards and the
first to spell out "B-I-N-G-O" wins...

PRISS (in her mind):  Aw, jeez, is this a boomer or what? (to Data)  Look,
um, it was, uh,...NICE meeting you.  Could you get lost, please?

DATA:  It is impossible for me to get lost.  My main memory has already
mapped out the entire ship, and unless I suffer severe memory damage...

PRISS (draws her phaser):  Look, you boom...I mean android, you're messing
with security.  Now go away or...

DATA:  Lieutenant, I do not feel that I did anything wrong.  I was merely
doing my duties as a senior officer aboard the Enterprise.  And this would
definitely be an improper use of a phaser if you fire your phaser at me.
I would have to report this incident to Lieutenant Worf.

PRISS:  I'm warning you, jerk!  Now beat it!

DATA:  If you wish me to leave, please do so politely.  I believe "jerk" is
slang for a stupid person.  I am not a person, I am a machine...

PRISS:  HASTA VA VISTA, BABY!

(Priss fires the phaser into Data's chest.  Data ends up stumbling back-
wards but remains unharmed, except for the large searing hole the phaser
fire caused.  Priss stands shocked.)

PRISS:  HUH?

DATA:  I am afraid I will have to report you to Lieutenant Worf.  For-
tunately, your phaser fire did not do any severe damage to my circuitry.
Your actions have certainly not been exemplary as a Starfleet Officer. 

(Priss plops to the floor and starts crying)

DATA:  Is there something wrong, Lieutenant?

PRISS (in tears):  I GIVE UP!!!  Look, please, just, go, OK?  Please, I'm
sorry!  I won't do it again!!!  I promise!!! NOW GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DATA:  Very well.  That sounds courteous enough.  Good day, Lieutenant.

(Data leaves and enters the turbolift)

PRISS:  Stupid jerk.  And he says he's a senior officer....  

(SCENE:  Back to Engineering.  Nene is working studiously at her station.
Commander Riker is also there, nodding hello to people.  He then notices
Nene and goes up to her.)

NENE (sings the smurf song):  La la la-la-la la la la la la laaaaaaaaaa.....

(Nene sees Riker's reflection from the glass panel)

NENE:  Oh, er, hello, Commander.

RIKER:  Hello, there.  It's an honor.

NENE:  Why do you say that?  I'm sure you've talked to Academy grads 
before.

RIKER:  Well, they don't all turn the Enterprise upside-down.

NENE (embarrased):  Please!  I've got enough slack from that already. 

RIKER:  Sorry, I don't mean to rub it in.  Seriously though, you really
should be careful about what you do down here, especially with what you're
capable of doing.  It could have been a lot worse.

NENE:  Understood, sir.  I've already been lectured by Commander LaForge
about it many times, so...

RIKER:  How about if we change the subject.  Will you be busy tonight?  

NENE:  Busy?  Tired, maybe, but not busy.  Er, why?

RIKER:  How about a romantic candlelight dinner?  You and me, in my quarters.

NENE:  Romantic...candlelight...dinner...?  (tries to think of an excuse)
Uh...welll.....er....ah...ugh....

RIKER:  Well, how about it?  

NENE (in her mind):  When was the last time I've been on a date?  No,
check that, when was the last time SYLIA let ALL of us on dates?  But
then, Sylia isn't here....wait, I've heard funny stories about Riker....

(Nene turns around and looks and Riker's face.  Riker smiles back.)

NENE (in her mind):  And he has a beard.  I NEVER dated a guy with a beard.
(to Riker)  What are we...uh, going to eat?

RIKER:  I'll set up a buffet table just for you.

NENE (in her mind):  Gosh, he must have studied my file.  (To Riker):
All right, I'll do it.  What time?

RIKER:  Is 1930 hours OK for you?

NENE:  Sure.  See you tonight then, Commander.

RIKER:  Please, call me Will.  (Riker leaves engineering)     

(Nene tries to figure out whether she is looking forward to it or not...)

(SCENE:  Priss's workoffice in deck 30.  She is sleeping behind the desk.
 The door chime goes off, and it wakes up Priss)

PRISS (snorts):  Who the hell is it?

WESLEY CRUSHER:  Er, this is Cadet Wesley Crusher of the Academy.

PRISS:  Come in!

(Priss see Wes for the first time)

PRISS:  Er, hi...hey, you're a KID!

WESLEY:  Well, er...by Starfleet standards, no, I'm not.  I'll be turning
20 pretty soon.

PRISS:  Still looking young, eh?  I remember when I was your age.  I didn't
really have a life, period.  

WESLEY:  Why not?

PRISS:  My parents died while I was young.  That's why...I don't have a
last name.

WESLEY:  Sorry to hear that.

PRISS:  Doesn't matter.  I managed to...survive, so to speak.  Okay, your
mother told me that you were...bored?

WESLEY:  Uh huh.  I've already reviewed for my special Academy assignment,
and I have nothing better to do.

PRISS:  Have you been to the hooleydeck before?

WESLEY:  Hooleydeck?  Oh, you mean HOLODECK?  Sure.  I've practically
LIVED there as an ensign on the Enterprise.

PRISS:  Yeah.  Are you...the sporting type?

WESLEY:  Not really.  Captain Picard tried to teach me fencing before, but...

PRISS:  Okay, well...have you done anything...physical? 

WESLEY (starts to perspire):  PHYSICAL?  (suddenly regains his composure)
Oh, you mean regarding sports.  Only fencing.

PRISS (in her mind):  Sheesh, what did he think I meant?  (to Wes)  All
right, lets give this a try....

(Priss digs through her desk.  She yanks out a basketball and chest-passes it
to Wes.  Wes catches it and lands flat on his back.)

WESLEY:  Er, what is this?

PRISS:  Huh?  You mean you've never seen a basketball before?

WESLEY:  Oh, BASKETBALL.  I think I know.  I've seen Geordi LaForge play this.

PRISS:  It's not that hard.  I'll show you in the Hellideck.

WESLEY:  Holodeck.

PRISS:  Whatever.  Could you beat it for a sec, please?  I need to change.

WESLEY:  Oh, um, sure.
   
(A few minutes later, Priss and Wesley are at holodeck two.  Priss is wearing
a tank top and very short shorts.  Wes could help noticing her very firm
figure, and huge....)

PRISS (annoyed):  What are you looking at?  

WESLEY:  Uhp, I'm sorry, ma'am.

PRISS (yanks out a piece of paper):  I'm not familiar with the holodeck
yet, so I had a friend of mine write out what I have to say.  (tries to
read Nene's handwriting)  Um, computer, run "Chicago Stadium" sequence.

COMPUTER VOICE:  SEARCHING FOR PROGRAM......PROGRAM FOUND AND LOADED.  YOU
MAY ENTER WHEN READY.

(Priss and Wes step through the doors.  They both see the inside of
Chicago Stadium, complete with bleachers and all the Bulls/Blackhawks 
banners on the ceiling.)

WESLEY:  Um, is basketball played in places like this?

PRISS:  Sure.  Are you sure you've never heard of basketball before?

WESLEY:  No, I mean...I've HEARD of it, but it's something that not a lot
of people do anymore, or so I understand. 

PRISS:  Okay, let's get to it.  I'll let you have the ball first.

(Priss passes the ball to Wesley.)

WESLEY:  Uh, is the object to...throw the ball into that ring-thing?

PRISS:  "Ring-thing"?  That's a basket, you moron.

WESLEY:  Geez, I dunno anything about this game.  Oh well, lets give it a
try...

(Wesley throws the ball from where he is standing and the ball goes in)

PRISS:  Lucky shot.  Let's see you do that again.  Try dribbling or 
something.

WESLEY:  Dribbling?  But I...haven't done that since I was a little kid...

PRISS:  Oh...my...god...no, no, by "dribbling" you just bounce the ball to 
the ground continuously. 

WESLEY:  Oh, okay.

(Wesley dribbles the ball and then shoots.  The ball goes in again)

PRISS:  Geez, are you sure you've never played before?

(Wesley shakes his head)

PRISS:  Okay, let's have a REAL game.  Since you scored twice, I'll give
you four points.

(Wesley takes the ball and starts to dribble.  Priss guards him 
intently.  Wesley shoots over her and scores.)

WESLEY:  Gosh, I'm...good.

(The scoreboard read WES - 6 PRISS - 0.  Priss starts to get aggravated.)

PRISS:  Now try to get one past me, you loser.

WESLEY:  Hey, this seems to get easier...OOP!

(As Wes shoot this time, Priss jumps high and blocks the shot.  It goes off
Wes's hands and out of bounds)

PRISS:  My ball, sucker.  (laughs)

(Now Wes appears degraded.)

(We see more scenes of the game.  As it progresses, Priss plays more rough
every time.  Priss rams into Wes as they chase after a loose ball)

WESLEY:  Hey!  Isn't that a...foul?

PRISS:  Says who?

(Later in the game, Wesley then tackles Priss as they again chase the
ball)

PRISS:  Hey, that's a foul!!!

WESLEY:  No fair!  You did that to me and that wasn't a foul.

PRISS:  Well, I didn't...hit you as hard.

WESLEY: Oh.

(Soon the game is late into the second half and the score reads  WES -
35 PRISS - 35 with 10 seconds left.  Wesley had the ball.)

PRISS:  Wesley is a weenie...Wesley is a weenie....

WESLEY:  Same to you...(trying to think of a profane word) dumbell. 

(Wesley shoots the ball and misses.  The rebound goes long and once again
both Priss and Wesley chase after it.  Priss gets the ball but gets her 
legs entangled with Wesley's.  As they both fall down, Priss shoots the
ball and it goes.  Time then expires)

PRISS:  I WIN! I WIN! I WIN!  Femininity rules!!!!!  Man is weak!

WESLEY:  AAAAAAAGH!!!!!

PRISS:  Ah, the sound of the agony of defeat.  What do you have to say for
yourself?

WESLEY (on the floor in pain):  SHUT UP, DORK! 

PRISS:  Hey, you can't be a sore loser!  Now...

WESLEY:  YOU BROKE MY LEG!!!  GET MY MOM DOWN HERE!!!!!

(Priss looks down and sees Wesley's right leg out of shape)

PRISS:  Oh, sh*t....be right back!  

(Priss tries to find her communicator but she then remembered she left it
on her uniform back in the office.  She yanked out the piece of paper Nene
gave her.)

PRISS:  Um...arch!

(The Holodeck arch appears.  Priss goes up to the computer console)

PRISS:  Holodeck...two to sickbay.  Is Dr. Crusher there?

DR. CRUSHER'S VOICE:  Crusher here.  Is that you Lieutenant Priss?  What
happened?

PRISS:  Get someone down here NOW!  I think I busted your kid's leg...

DR. CRUSHER'S VOICE:  WHAT!!?!?!?

(SCENE:  Sickbay.  Dr. Crusher is doing a diagnostic on her son's leg.
Wesley is still squirming in the medibed.)

DR. CRUSHER:  Wes, stop squirming.  I'll have to stabilize you if you keep
acting like a earthworm.

WESLEY:  I can't....Mom...it...really hurts...

DR. CRUSHER:  Just try to ignore it.  Oh well, I'm almost done... 

(Dr. Crusher is then looking at the computer medichart on her sons leg.  
Priss then enters sickbay.  She is back in her Starfleet uniform.)

PRISS:  Er, hi, doctor.  How is he?

DR. CRUSHER:  You should consider yourself lucky, Lieutenant.  It turns
out to be a compound fracture but fortunately, the bone wasn't knocked
COMPLETELY out of place.  He'll be off his feet for a few days.

PRISS:  Okay, just wondering... (Priss starts to leave)

DR. CRUSHER:  Hold it.

PRISS:  What?

DR. CRUSHER:  What exactly were you two doing in the holodeck?

PRISS:  We were just playing basketball.  So what?

DR. CRUSHER:  Well, from what I understand, fractured legs as a result of
playing that sport is highly unlikely, unless you play like...wild
animals.

PRISS:  Gosh, Doctor, why would I do that?

(Wesley gets really angry, but of of the nurses hold him down)

DR. CRUSHER:  Okay, well, I'm sure that you know better, since you're a
Lieutenant.  Just be careful next time, OK?

PRISS:  Sure, nooooooooooooo problem.  (Priss walks out with a smile.
Wesley is seen being restrained at the Medibed)

DR. SELAR:  Mr. Crusher, calm down!

WESLEY:  LIAR! LIAR! LIAR!

DR. CRUSHER (coming over):  Wes!  Calm down!  Or else I'll have to stick 
this into you. (holds the stabilizer)

WESLEY:  She played like a Andorian on the rampage, Mom!

DR. CRUSHER:  Well, maybe her idea of "rough" isn't exactly the same as
your, Wes.  I'm sure she didn't mean any harm.

WESLEY:  Yeah, right!  Report her to Worf, mom!  She's a big fat...

DR. CRUSHER:  Wes, get a grip on yourself.  I don't suspect any foul play
here.

WESLEY:  FOUL FOUL FOUL....!!!

DR. CRUSHER:  That does it.  

(Dr. Crusher administers the stabilizer and Wes suddenly falls to sleep.
Riker now enters sickbay)

RIKER:  Ah, what do we have here?  I heard Wes got involved in some 
injury while playing b-ball.  Did you stabilize him?

DR. CRUSHER:  Yep.  He kept complaining that Lieutenant Priss deliberately
injured him.

RIKER:  Deliberately?  Hmm...

(Dr. Crusher raises a curious eyebrow)

RIKER:  Earlier today, Mr. Data told Worf that this same Lt. Priss tried to
shoot Data down with her phaser. 

DR. CRUSHER:  Really?

RIKER:  As a matter of fact, she been...rather rude to almost everyone she
encountered while on the ship.  I dunno...I may have to recommend her to
Counselor Troi if this current behavior keeps up.  Worf has the same
sentiment as well.

DR. CRUSHER:  She works for Worf?

RIKER (nods):  Head security officer on deck 30 and assistant to Worf.
Now that other graduate...she's kinda unusual too.  You probably know her
already; she almost turned the Enterprise upside-down during mid-warp.
And tonight...I'm dating her.  (smiles)

DR. CRUSHER (also smiling):  Dancing with the devil, I take it?

RIKER:  No, no, she's not that bad of a person.  But she also tends too...
eat a lot.  I plan to have an...entire buffet table for her.

DR. CRUSHER:  And I suppose you'll be eating a lot too?

RIKER:  Uh, I suppose.  I'm sure she'll eat most of it.

DR. CRUSHER:  Bon Appetit.  I'm here if you need me.

RIKER:  Thanks.

(SCENE:  That same evening.  Riker is in his dress uniform.  He takes a 
look at the computer clock and it reads 1929 hours.  The door chime goes
off.  There is also a big buffet table and a dinner table in his quarters.)

RIKER:  Come in, my fair lady.

(The door opens and Picard steps in)

PICARD:  Why, thank you, Number One.  How modest.

RIKER:  Um, is there any reason you need to see me now?

PICARD:  Just to remind you, we should be arriving at the Neutral Zone
tomorrow afternoon.  I'd like you and Mr. LaForge to conduct the
investigation.

RIKER:  Understood, sir.  Anything else?

(Picard notices the buffet table and the little dinner table for two that
Riker is sitting in)

PICARD:  Will, are you inviting the entire ship to your quarters for
dinner?

RIKER:  No.  I have a date for the evening.

PICARD:  Who?

RIKER:  Well, I guess I can tell you...Ensign Nene Romanova.

PICARD:  Her?  The one who turned the ship upside-down?

RIKER:  Just want to...get to know her better, if you know what I'm saying.
She's a bright cookie, Captain.  I'm sure she would use more...ethical
ways to impress people from now on.

PICARD:  And she can eat this much food? 

RIKER:  Or at least she can certainly try.

PICARD:  Oh well.  I can't interfere will everything in your life.  Just
make sure she doesn't get into any trouble.  See you tomorrow.  (Picard
leaves)

(Ten seconds later, another door chime goes off)

RIKER:  Ah, this must be Nene.  Come in, my fair lady.

(Sure enough, Nene enters, wearing a rather modest dress)

NENE:  Gee, that's sweet of you, Commander.

RIKER:  Well, I must say, anyone with red hair would certainly be...fair.
(laughs)  Hey, that rhymes.

(Nene giggles too.  She then notices the huge buffet table)

RIKER:  Divulge all you want, my dear.  Just for you.

NENE (in her mind):  Gosh, I already like this....

(Half an hour pass.  Nene and Riker appear to have larger stomachs.  There
is also a large pile of dishes next to Nene)

RIKER:  Are you full, Nene?

NENE (burps):  Aaack.  Excuse me, Commander.  Yeah, I must be.

RIKER:  I don't really know that much about you, other than you being the
first to...tilt the Enterprise.  Did you grow up in Mega-Tokyo?

NENE:  Sure did.  Went to an all girls school.  I gained a reputation of
skipping class, and I carried that to the Academy.

RIKER:  I find that hard to believe that you grew up in Japanese culture,
and yet you are...um...what kind of name is "Romanova" anyway?

NENE:  Russian.  Yeah, some people find that hard to believe, but there
was a time, I think, where it wasn't that uncommon.

RIKER:  A Russian, eh?  We don't get that many Soviets in
Starfleet.  As a matter of fact, I think one of better-known Russians
served on the original Constitution Class Enterprise more than 80 years ago.

NENE:  Chekov?

RIKER:  Ah, so you remember your Federation history, eh?

NENE:  Sort of.  Now let's hear about your life, Mr. Riker.

RIKER:  Oh Nene, please!  Call me Will. 

NENE:  Sorry, Will.

RIKER:  Okay, I grew up in Alaska.  I had the natural instinct to explore
things.  You know, fish, polar bears, caves...that kind of stuff.  That's
one of the reasons why I joined Starfleet.  I wanted to explore.  To see
what's out there.

NENE:  Have you fulfilled everything you wanted to do in Starfleet?

RIKER:  Gee, I don't know.  I guess for me there could be...unchartered
waters.  I still have the chance to be captain of my own ship.  And beyond
that, who knows?  Admiral, serve on the high council, or maybe even be
Federation president.

NENE (takes a sip of wine):  Heh.  With your beard?

RIKER:  What wrong with it?  I like this beard.

NENE:  That's the funny thing about you...

RIKER:  What?

NENE:  You're a James Kirk with a beard.

(Riker and Nene laugh at the same time)

(Later they both end up a little...drunk)

NENE:  ...and so, the Proctor asked if I found the computer virus, and 
I said, "No, I think I caught this cold!"  (They both laugh hysterically)

RIKER:  Boy, Nene, you're a barrel of (hic) laughs.

NENE:  You too, Will (hic).

RIKER (hiccupping and swaying a little):  You know, Nene, I never (hic)
commented on that (hic) dress you're wearing.  It's not (hic) revealing 
enough!

NENE:  Really (hic)?  I'm.....sorrrrry (hic).  Maybe I should...get rid of
this skirt!

(Nene wobbles to her feet and removes her skirt, revealing her shaved legs)

RIKER:  Ooooooooooooooh, I like (hic) that...you know, I think I should (hic)
...get rid of this uniform.  It's so (hic) uncomfortable...but first,
give me a...kiss, you foxy lady, you! 

(Riker and Nene meet in a DEEP kiss.  Suddenly, the door chime rings 
again)

RIKER (obviously not knowing where he is):  Come...in...

COUNSELOR DEANNA TROI:  Will, I was wondering if... (Counselor Troi stands
agape at the doorway as she sees them kiss)

TROI (rather sarcastic):  Oh, I see that you are...preoccupied for the 
moment.  Oh well, this can wait.  Indulge in your own pleasure.

RIKER (suddenly regaining his senses):  No wait!  Deanna, come back!  
I'm sor...

(Riker pokes his head into the hallway, but there is no sign of her)

RIKER:  Gosh, sorry about that, Nene.  Now where were we...huh?

(Nene is slumped into a chair.  She is slowly putting her skirt back on)

NENE:  Gawd, what the heck was I doin'....

RIKER:  I'm sorry, Nene.  Now where were we...

NENE:  Er, no, Commander.  I think we've gone...too far already.  I'm sorry,
I don't think we're...meant for each other.

RIKER:  Huh?  I don't understand.  We just got to know each other!

NENE:  Um, Commander, I'll be honest with you on something.  I wasn't too
sure if dating you was a good idea because of...her.

RIKER:  Who?

NENE:  The Counselor.  I heard that you and Troi had a...rather strong
relationship at one time, and...some guys in engineering told me that this
"strong relationship" still exists on occasion.

RIKER (knocking his head on the wall):  Oh, God...

NENE:  I'm sorry, sir.  I probably would fit in your..."emotional roller
coaster".  But I'm always willing to be friends.  Gosh, it's late.  I
must get going.  Thank you for the wonderful evening, Commander.

(Nene fully regains her composure and leaves.  Riker stands there, wondering
what went wrong)

(SCENE:  Nene's quarters.  Nene is spawled out on the bed, moaning and
groaning.  Then the door chime rings.)

NENE (groggy):  Who is...it?

PRISS:  It's the Prissmeister!

NENE:  Come!

(Priss enters in civilian clothes)

PRISS:  Ah, did you get laid by Riker? 

(Nene glares at Priss)

PRISS:  I guess not!  But how was it?

NENE:  Wonderful...but I, well, almost screwed him.

PRISS:  Why didn't you?

NENE:  PRISS!

PRISS:  Sheesh, don't get so paranoid!

NENE:  I...almost lost my mind.  It SEEMED all right, but then...the
warning light came on...in my mind.  I simply couldn't let him...

PRISS:  Ah, well.  You never really seemed to have much of a social life,
anyway.

NENE (smirks):  Thanks a lot.  How did the basketball game go?

PRISS:  I hurt him.

NENE:  Hurt who?

PRISS:  That Crusher kid.  Broken leg.

NENE:  Sheesh.  You'd always do anything to win.

PRISS:  And I'm damn proud of it.  (smiles) 

NENE:  You know, there's been something I've been wondering for a while,
but I..haven't asked anyone about it because I've been...WAY too busy
lately.  Why are we on yellow alert?

PRISS:  Oh, sh*t.  I forgot to tell you.  You heard about the USS Mega-
Tokyo blowing up the other day, did you.

NENE:  Yeah, I know.  What about it?

PRISS:  Largo did it.

NENE:  Largo?  Who's Largo?

PRISS:  You forgot who Largo is?  The leader of Genom.  Manufactures 
boomers, killed Sylia's dad...and my lover...

NENE:  THAT Largo?  But he'd have to be...370 years old now!

PRISS:  Nene, it HAS to be "that" Largo.  I saw a picture of him.  Looks
kinda white but has exact same facial features....

NENE:  Aw, geez, if your right, then...the Knight Sabers failed to stop
him in the 21st century!

PRISS:  I guess.  Maybe we should get in touch with Sylia...

NENE:  We can't.

PRISS:  Why not?

NENE:  Starfleet monitors all the messages coming to and from Starships, and
while they travel through space.  It would be easy to send something out
of the Enterprise if I can gain computer access, but a Federation starbase
could easily intercept the message.  In other words, we can't let the
Federation know who the Knight Sabers are, at least not now.

PRISS:  But we don't have to mention the Knight Sabers.  Just say some-
thing like, "Genom is here!"

NENE:  Now that WOULD work.  I'll take care of it tomorrow.

PRISS:  Wait...do you think Sylia already knows?  I heard that the captain
of that ship was named...Mackie Stingray the fourth. 

NENE (raising an eyebrow):  Maybe.......

(SCENE:  Somewhere in outer space.  The Borg ship is once again floating in the
middle of nowhere)

BORG:  IMMORTAL LARGO.

LARGO:  Ah, what a title.  I am honored!

BORG:  CHIVALRY IS IRRELEVANT.  IN ANY CASE, IT HAS NOW BEEN ALMOST A FULL 
DAY SINCE THE EXPIRATION OF TIME FOR SURRENDER.  WE MUST ATTACK.

LARGO:  Agreed.  Any sign of the Enterprise?

BORG:  INTERCEPTED STARFLEET MESSAGES INDICATE THAT THE ENTERPRISE, RE-
GISTRATION NCC-1701-D, IS CURRENTLY HEADING FOR THE ROMULAN NEUTRAL ZONE.
FROM CURRENT POSITION, AT MAXIMUM WARP IT WOULD TAKE US AT LEAST ONE AND A
HALF DAYS TO INTERCEPT THE ENTERPRISE'S POSITION.

LARGO:  That may vary, of course, on the Enterprise's position and
speed, correct?

BORG:  CORRECT.  ACCORDING TO INFORMATION GATHERED BY THE BORG, THE
AVERAGE FEDERATION STARSHIP TRAVELS AT AVERAGE 5.6847474 WARP SPEED.  OUR
CURRENT ESTIMATE IS BASED ON THAT FIGURE.

LARGO:  Ah, so what are we waiting for?

BORG:  AGREED.  WAITING IS IRRELEVANT; WE MUST PROCEED NOW.

(Borg takes off into space.  Largo then plays the 20th century pop song
"Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" by Starship through his speaker)

BORG:  SILLY MUSIC IS IRRELEVANT.  PLEASE CEASE.

LARGO:  Gosh, don't you guys LIKE anything....

COMMERCIAL

(SCENE:  Playground setting.  Sinbad and his gang are playing basketball)

SINBAD:  Hey guys, look at who dropped in for some hoops!  It's Kei and Yuri,
the Dirty Pair!

(Shot of the Dirty Pair as Sinbad's "gang" whistles and hollers at the
DP's skimpy outfits)

KEI (to Yuri):  Is this what...American earth culture is like?

SINBAD (to DP):  You know, I've seen you two a lot on TV, and there's
somethin' I've always wondered about you two...why do you always run around
in your underwear?

(The "gang" laughs.  Kei and Yuri kick Sinbad in the crotch at the same time)

SINBAD:  Hey let's show our wild women how to play the great game of
basketball!

GANG:  YEAH YEAH YEAH!!!!

(They play hoops.  But the DP seem not to be impressed)

YURI:  I bet we could do better... (Kei nods)

SINBAD:  Okay, ladies, would you like to play with us?

KEI:  Both of us against all of you.

SINBAD & GANG:  Aw, uh, geeee, are you sure???

(The DP nod)

SINBAD:  OK, LET'S GET BUSY!!!

(Scenes of the DP scoring everytime they touch the ball:  dunks, three pointers
perimeter.  The "gang" is befuddled)

SINBAD:  Aw, gee we got beat by a bunch of women!  How'd you do it?  

(Sinbad looks at the DP's shoes)

SINBAD:  Hey look, guys!  They got the new Reebok universal Cross-Trainer!
I guess no one in the galaxy should be without 'em!

(The DP nod)

ANNOUNCER:  LIFE IS SHORT.  PLAY HARD.

END OF PART 2

"BubbleGum Trek"  Copyright 1992 Byon Productions Inc.  All rights, lefts,
ups and downs reserved.
Posted-Date: Tue, 15 Dec 92 00:04:17 -0600
Received-Date: Tue, 15 Dec 92 00:03:20 CST
Date: Tue, 15 Dec 92 00:04:17 -0600
From: Otto Heuer #3 <ottoh3@cfsmo.honeywell.com>
To: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: FAQL: HOW TO SUBMIT CREATIVE MATERIAL