Cremated Clingons

By Gordon Scott & John Kanost

Meanwhile, the tape continued. NYEEP ZOOIP BUYUT RYEED WOOGUT DEEVIT--

"Whoops!" exclaimed Ensign Widow. "I pushed reverse. Sorry." She made some adjustments. "Okay, there we go."

CAPTAIN'S LOG: STARDATE 125981363341500.000072:
Counselor Clown has informed me that the crew is going crazy. He doesn't know why-- he says he's had dozens of insane crew members coming to him for counseling, and Doctor Buddy confirms his report. Homey wants to take an emergency trip to McPlanet for shore leave, but I don't feel that it would be a good idea. It's obvious what the cause of this syndrome is-- boredom. And how do you cure boredom? With adventure. You cure boredom with adventure. Yeah! Adventure. Yeah. I--

"Ya know," said Captain Farley, whose meaty finger was on the pause button, "he sure sounds screwy to me. He's cracked. I figger he musta got da news dat dey fired Coach Ditka. I know I was upset. Kin you believe dat? It's outrageous, I tell ya, outrageous, and I--

"No, I don't think that was the problem. Kanost wasn't a Bears fan," said Gordon.

"Not a Bears fan? Den why are we even botherin' ta rescue 'im?"

"Obviously, whatever condition was affecting the crew also affected him. Let's see what happened next."

"--I know what this crew needs! Adventure! Yeah! Um, log the-- er, uh, end log." Kanost swiveled in his chair to face the back of the bridge. "Hey! You there!" he shouted, pointing to a lieutenant at sciences. "What's the most dangerous place you can think of?"

"Um, well, I," stammered the lieutenant, "Uh, maybe the... the inescapable, impenetrable Clingon detention facility on the remote planet DaQrah Pagh?"

"Okay! Set course, Mr. No Depth Perception!"

"Course set!"

"Engage!"

"AAAAAAUUUU--

The transmission ended, for the buoy had ejected at that point.

"Well, dat's a mystery solved!" said Farley.

"Well, yes, we know where they went... but we don't know why. And we--

Suddenly, Scot was interrupted by alert klaxons. "The Clingons! They found us!"

"Oh no!"

"We're doomed!"

"Battlestations!"

"Kanost! The Kanostmeister! Captain of the Nova-Scotia! The Captainmeister! Head honcho! The big man! Come to rescue the Rich-man from the prison! The Rescue-meister! Rescuolaaa!"

"OH, DO SHUT UP!" commanded Jean-Luc.

"Ooh! The Rich-man's bein' too noisy! The Loudmeister! Loudaramaaa! Loud-o-laaaa!"

WHAP! "Ooh! Captain's getting' mad! Strikin' the Rich-man on the head! Slam-a-ram-a-roosky, the guy who took--" KRAK! THUD!

"Good shot, lieutenant commander!"

"Guh! Thank you, siir." Kanost picked up the prone body of his first officer, and the three of them took off, heading for the next cell.

Kaulk shot Koffee.

Scot emerged on the bridge just as three Clingon ships uncloaked off the port bow. "Shields!" he ordered.

"Captain!" called Ensign Widow, "The other captains have returned to their ships safely!"

"Excellent," stated Scot. "Status report?"

"The Clingon girly-men haff powered up their disruptors, sir!" exclaimed Schwartzeneggar.

"Evasive maneuvers!"

"Disruptors armed, captain!" growled Mahlk at weapons control.

"Good!" replied Kobill. "Fire! All ships, fire!" Eight beams of deadly bluish-green lanced out from the Insufferable, striking the Vengeance with all of their fury.

On the Lame Duck...

"Captain! The Vengeance has been hit! Ooh, ooh! I'm getting a little verklempt!" reported Richman.

"Quickly! Return fire at the offending ship!" ordered Krieger.

"Torpedoes away, dahling!" reported Zha Zha, the Lame Duck's security officer.

"Captain (fatslob), the Vengeance (weakpieceoftrash) reports that she has been hit (whocouldmiss)!" said Mr. Subliminal at communications on board the Cool Guy.

"Return fire!" snarled Farley.

"Torpedoes away, sir!" growled Krud, the security chief.

On the Vengeance...

"Captain! Deck Ten has been hit!" stated Widow.

"Lock phasers and torpedoes, Mr. Schwartzeneggar!"

"Weapons locked onto da girly-Clingon's ship, captain!"

"Fire!"

"Torpedoes away!"

"Direct hit on the enemy vessel, Captain!" yelled Klarence.

"Fire again!"

"Sir! They're returning fire!" exclaimed Mahlk. Kobill shot the bridge crew.

Meanwhile, at DaQrah Pagh...

HMMMMZZZZZ... The transporter room on the Nova-Scotia came to life as Jean-Luc Kanost and his reunited bridge crew beamed up from the "inescapable" detention facility.

"Okay," said Kanost, "We've got to make good use of the time we have. The Clingons will soon figure out where we are! Everyone get to your respective stations!"

"But sir! We have no crew! This class starship requires a minimum crew of 117, and the usual crew number is 630. We are only six!"

"Oh... yeah. Well then, uh, why don't we... turn on the shields? At least then, the Clingons cannot beam aboard and recapture us."

"Sir, there are probably Clingons on board already."

"Oh... right. Okay, let's-- hey, I know! We could hide in the engine room-- no, there'd be lots of Clingons there. Um, we could steal a shuttle... but we couldn't get very far, and-- hey, it wouldn't be stealing, because it's our shuttle in the first place! Man, I--

"Captain! We've got to do something!"

Suddenly, without warning, twelve armed Clingons burst into the room.

Kobill was a Clingon who could admit it when he was wrong; when he had made a mistake. And as he stood on his bridge, unconscious bridge crew all around him, with twelve photon torpedoes looming up larger and larger on the viewer, Kobill realized that he had made a mistake.

Kanost stared in disbelief as, one by one, the Clingons tied up his bridge crew and prepared them for transport back to DaQrah Pagh, while holding the others at gunpoint. After all they'd gone through to escape, it had all come to naught.

Suddenly, something snapped inside one of the crew members! The man began fighting with a renewed vigor; with a ferocity unheard of among other Clingon captives. "Get yo stinkin' hands offa me, you wrinkled prunehead! Homey don't play dat! You da man! And you da man! Dey tries to beat me up n' lock me up 'cause I'm da clown, but I ain't done nothin' wrong an' I ain't gonna letcha get away wit dis 'cause I'm Homey da Clown an' Homey don't play dat!"

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP! Twelve Clingons lay on the floor unconscious.

Koolaid, now recovered from his unconscious state, shoved the body of a prone crewmate off his chest as he tried desperately to get off the bridge of the Insufferable. The doors of the turbolift closed behind him just in time as an explosion from the bridge rattled the tiny elevator.

"Sickbay!" groaned Koolaid, sending the turbolift on its way. He then hit the intercom to call sickbay. "Bludkhlot!" croaked Koolaid, "There's been an explosion on the bridge. I've been injured! I'll be there in a few minutes." Koolaid could feel his consciousness slipping. "Be... ready..."

Kobill's bridge was in ruins. Somehow, the Federation onslaught had gotten through his legendary shields, crushing the bridge and some of the upper decks on his battleship. The fearsome Clingon captain, along with most of his bridge crew, had escaped in his private turbolift just before the entire place blew, and they were now operating the ship from the emergency bridge.

"Komark! Korhett!" Kobill screamed over the subspace link, "Ever hear of backup? Destroy the Federation scumbags before they get away!" But it was too late. The Lamefleet vessels had already warped out of the sector and were on their way to rescue Kanost.

Meanwhile, aboard the USS Nova-Scotia...

"Caaaptain, sensors report that all the Clingons have been detaiiined!" said Pat.

"Cool!" exclaimed Kanost. "Engage warp drive, factor six, Mr. No Depth Perception. Take us out of here!"

"Aye, sir--

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHH!" Other than a few wrong turns and a couple close calls with a few suns, the Nova-Scotia escaped.

Meanwhile, the Federation fleet commanded by Captain Scot approached DaQrah Pagh, with a bunch of Clingon ships at their heels...

Now that Kobill had calmed down, he was able to check the condition of his ship. Surprisingly, relatively few of its systems had been damaged; it had been a lucky shot that destroyed the bridge. Now he and his brothers were pursuing the Federation intruders with weapons ready.

"This time, those three puny, insignificant vessels shall not stand a chance against the mighty Kobell brothers! Ha ha haaaa!"

As Koolaid stumbled past the disruptor training room on his way to sickbay, a stray shot came out and struck him in the chest. Koolaid slumped to the floor.

As the Vengeance and her compatriots streaked deeper into the Clingon space, a blip appeared on the sensors.

"Sir, I think I have got what you humans call a 'bogey' on my sensor," reported T'Pringle.

"Well, we can't have that! Wipe it off at once!"

"No sir, not a 'boogey.' A 'bogey.' I believe the Clingons are sending a vessel to intercept us. It appears to be rather large in size, and we still have the first three on our tails."

"Send this: Approaching vessel, we have you outnumbered three to one, and--

"Sir,"

"Not now, mister! --and we won't hesitate to blow you out of existence, so--

"But sir!"

"I said NOT NOW! --so you had better just leave us alone. We are on a rescue mission." Gordon whirled around to face his second officer. "Now! Mr. T'Pringle, you will explain to me what is so important that you felt it necessary to interrupt me not once, but twice!"

"Captain, I have identified the oncoming vessel. It is the Nova-Scotia."

"Oh." Gordon looked at the communications officer. "Have you... by any slim chance... already sent that message?"

"Message sent, sir," reported the ensign.

"DOH!"

"Message incoming from the Nova-Scotia, captain!"

"Listen, I don't know who you think you are, but-- oh. It's you. Hi."

"Hello friend. Reunions are nice and all, but we're being pursued by three large ships full of angry Clingons in command, and frankly, we could use your help!"

"I'd be glad to, but you have to beam some crew over. We're currently operating on less than a skeleton crew, and in no condition for a fight."

"Consider it done. And since you are the senior officer here, you can take command of our little fleet."

"Senior officer? But we're both captains--

"Wrong, Commodore Kanost. You were promoted, but disappeared before receiving your new rank! Congratulations!"

Kanost, his sense of confidence renewed, began to give orders. "Increase shields! Energize phasers! Load the photon torpedoes!"

In their mighty vessels, the Kobill brothers raced through interstellar space, chasing after Scot and the Federation fleet.

"Uh, commodore?"

"Yes, Captain Scot? Please hurry, I'm rather busy here..."

"I have one question."

"Yes?"

"HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BEAM PERSONNEL OVER TO YOUR SHIP WHEN YOU'VE RAISED YOUR SHEILDS?"

"Oops."

"Sir!" yelled Klarence, "We've located the Federation fleet!"

"Attack!" yelled Kobill.

"But sir, they have been joined by a Federation dreadnought!"

"What?" Kobill looked around the emergency bridge for Koolaid, but not finding him, he disruptor-blasted Korn, the ensign on duty, instead. "Attack anyway! Those Fed fools can't even detect us yet!"

The Insufferable, the Irresistible Force, and the Impostor flew to the attack. The Feds never even knew what hit them.

When the first attack wave came, Nova-Scotia and Vengeance were able to stop transporting and raise shields in time; however, the Lame Duck and the Cool Guy weren't as lucky. On the Vengeance, Scot was shouting orders.

"Fire! Launch torpedoes! Blow them out of the sky!"

"Sir!" exclaimed Jefferson.

"Yes?"

"You need to stop playing 'X-Wing Fighter' on the computer, sir. The ship is under attack."

"Right... be there in a moment." Putting away his game, Gordon stepped out onto the deck. "Fire! Launch torpedoes! Blow them out of the sky!"

"Sir-b!" exclaimed Mushmouth, "the-b La-b-me Du-b-ck has b-been hur-b-t!"

"Communications are down, captain!" exclaimed Widow.

"Open a channel to all ships that can hear me!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

"Fire on the Impostor!"

Meanwhile, on the Impostor...

"Captain Komark! We are being ambushed!" yelled Kushion, the weapons officer.

"Return fire, you fool!" Komark shot Kreamy at communications.

Phaser and photon fire lanced out from the Vengeance, Nova-Scotia, and Cool Guy, while the Lame Duck drifted motionless.

Meanwhile, on the flagship of the 122^nd battle squadron, Captain Ken Boser turned to his communications officer.

"What? A skirmish on the Clingon border?"

"Yes, sir," said Lieutenant Stimpy. "Sounds exciting!"

"Open a channel to the Marshmallow and the Breakdown, please."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

"Captain Heglund; Captain Lloyd, this is the Gotchafirst... come in!"

"Here..."

"Yes?"

"We are going to investigate a disturbance on the border. Please follow the Gotchafirst in. Boser out."

"Acknowledged."

"Gotcha, Gotchafirst!" The 122^nd battle squadron took off towards the battle.

From their respective vessels, Kobill and Korhett observed as the Imposter and the Federation vessels traded fire. The Imposter's fire glanced ineffectually off of the Cool Guy's shields, doing almost no damage. The Imposter itself was not as fortunate, as twelve deadly spheres of violent, glowing energy spent their wrath on her shields, followed by countless lances of sinister light which stabbed out and carved deep gouges into the poor vessel's hull, as though it was a turkey being prepared for a Thanksgiving feast. Two of the Kobell brothers cried out in anger and shock as they witnessed the explosion, and with it, the death of their brother, Komark. Suddenly, it was no longer an enjoyable hunt-- the prey had learned to strike back.

As Kobill watched the Federation vessels emerging from the expanding ball of atmosphere, debris and twisted shrapnel, he saw the name of the one thought that now occupied his mind: Vengeance.

"Now, Federation scum, you will see what Clingon wrath is truly like!"

As soon as he saw the Imposter explode, Gordon knew that they were now in deep trouble. As if to confirm his thought, Kanost contacted him.

"That did it! Now it's no longer a game to them, Scot! We'd better warp out of here while we can!"

"But the Lame Duck! She's living up to her name! If we leave Krieger, he's a dead man!"

"We're all dead men if we stay! We've got to--

Suddenly the navigator interrupted. "Captain! I detect a Federation battle squadron approaching! Reinforcements!"

"Captain!" exclaimed Krude, Korhett's first officer, "Another Federation squadron approaches!" As he received this news, Korhett's mouth dropped open even further. He didn't know what to do! Komark was dead, and now he was going to die too! He couldn't take it anymore!

"RETREAT!" he screamed with fear in his voice. Krude shrank back in disgust upon hearing the cowardice of his captain.

"But Captain Kobill has ordered us to remain and fight! We must avenge the death of your brother--

"SILENCE! We cannot win, it is a hopeless battle! Retreat!" Krude reluctantly obeyed, knowing the disgrace and permanent dishonor it would bring on his captain.

"WHAT? WHAT IS THAT P'TAGH DOING?" screamed Kobill as the Irresistible Force went into warp and disappeared. As he whipped out his disruptor to begin obliterating his crew, he glanced at the Clingon Vu-Scream^© and saw six starships surrounding his vessel, preparing to cremate some Clingons. Kobill very carefully eased his weapon back into its holster, then leaned over to his navigator and began to whisper.

"Listen very carefully, Karp. Set our coordinates to follow that tokke straav brother of mine, and then PUNCH IT!" Kobill wasn't going to tempt fate. As he expected, the Federation blunderbusses didn't pursue, and as he watched the flatheads fade away on his screen, he swore revenge.

"Next time! I'll get you next time!"

Meanwhile...

"Mr. McLaughlin, patch me through to the Gotchafirst." The Nova-Scotia's communications officer quickly obeyed.

"Captain Boser, this is Commodore Kanost. Thank you for your timely assistance! You probably just saved our lives!"

"No problem, Commodore, that's what we're here for, eh? Do any of you need any further assistance?"

"The Lame Duck is damaged pretty heavily; they have failed to contact us so I must assume their communications is out. We're going to have to beam over and inspect the damage."

"Consider it done, sir. We will take care of that; you've got your own wounds to attend to. It's good to have you with us again."

"It's good to be back. Let's go home."

One month later...

In the Clingon High Command council chambers, Korhett stood trial.

"The charges of cowardice and treason have been laid out on the heirs of Kofrank. How do you plead?" rumbled the judge.

"I am the eldest!" exclaimed Korhett. "Mine alone is the responsibility!" Kobill stepped up suddenly.

"No! I won't allow you to stand alone! We are--

"Get back, Cha'diCh!" ordered Korhett. "Mine alone is the responsibility! My decision stands, and you will obey!" Kobill backed down, leaving his brother standing alone in the center of the room. The judge spoke:

"Your deeds today are honorable; you have spared your family's honor, so I will spare you discommendation. Your actions are not without penalty, however, and I hereby demote you to commander. Furthermore, you captain shall be Krude, who is hereby promoted to the rank which you are incapable of performing. It shall be thus so that you will remember always where khest'lagh like you belong-- in a permanently submissive rank. This court is adjourned!" The judge slammed a sphere of metal onto his armrest, sending a shower of sparks down onto the floor.

Korhett hung his head in shame. Kobill shot Koolaid.

CAPTAIN'S EPILOGUE: STARDATE: WHO CARES?
The repair of our respective vessels is going well, and they should all be spaceworthy in a few days. The USS Lame Duck is almost fully functional again, and her crew is ready for their next assignment: a terraforming project on the planet of Kolestiraal Five, at the request of the McPeople. Captain Boser and the USS Gotchafirst have left for parsec 4477111 to answer a distress call from one of the shuttles belonging to the missing Benterprise! It would appear that Captain Avery and Doctor McDonalds are still alive! Their stories shall be interesting to hear when they return. The whereabouts of the remainder of his crew remains a mystery. Captains Lloyd and Heglund are going back on patrol with the rest of the 122^nd battle squadron. Boser, Heglund and Lloyd all received the coveted McMedal with Crossed Fries for arriving in the nick of time to aid the Nova-Scotia and her comrades. Actually, this does not surprise me, for McPeople have always praised fast service. Captain Farley is taking the Cool Guy to Outpost 57, awaiting Ron McDonalds' assignment to his ship as medical officer.

The crew of my ship has been returned by the Clingon High Command, supposedly as a "gesture of good will." It is my personal belief that the Clingons couldn't stand the sight of humans anymore. Anyway, they're back and the ship is running smoothly once more. Captain Scot and his crew have returned to Earth for shore leave before their next assignment. Pending some great galactic disaster, I doubt that I will have the opportunity to work with such fine officers for the remainder of my tour of duty. All are noted and commended in my report.

As for the Nova-Scotia, we have received a Presidential summons. Apparently the militant, profiteering race known as the Fruiti have kidnapped the daughter of our beloved head-of-state. My crew and I have been given the perilous mission to rescue her.

All in all, things have returned to normal... and perhaps we just might see our ships working together again soon. Maybe.

END LOG. USS NOVA-SCOTIA, NCC 2014 -
COMMODORE JEAN-LUC KANOST, COMMANDING

The End

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