Deep Shit 69 - Chapter 3-3

After what seemed an eternity, the vision of the Kai appeared on the viewscreen. She bowed deeply and addressed Krisko.

IMP: Great Emissary! My child, Handsof, tells me great news! You have communicated with the Prophets?
KRS: Well, Impala, not quite. We sent a science probe into the gasshole and now it appears someone has simply,..shut it off.
IMP: of course. Your science is not rooted in the faith and the Prophets do not wish to be disturbed in such a manner. They speak through the Tears. Have you received such messages from the Prophets?
KRS: Well, I...
JST: Kai Impala, the Emissary has indeed been contacted. He was invited into the gasshole.
KRS: Justa...
JST: (whispering) Play along with the old bat, Benjamin!
IMP: Then the Emissary must follow the wishes of the Prophets.

Before Krisko could answer, the Kai's image disappeared from the viewscreen. Krisko looked around the room and found the balance of the command crew staring at him.

KRS: What kind of "playing along" do you suggest, old man?
JST: The crystal sent you a message to enter the hole, so why not follow up on it?
KRS: Because the Majoran government would forbid it.
JST: Not anymore. You just got the blessing from the Kai herself to go ahead.
KRS: You're suggesting I take a runabout and enter something as unstable as that gasshole and shoot the breeze with the life forms on the other side?
JST: Sounds like as good an idea an any other. Besides, give me a few hours with the data we did receive and I'll have that gasshole timed better than a human menstrual cycle.
KRS: All right. O'Brother, have a runabout made ready in about two hours.
MOB: Aye, sir.

As O'Brother made preparations for the Genghis Khan and Justa pored over the probe's data, Krisko and Keepyer engaged in a lively debate.

KPR: Commander, do you realize what your actions will do to Federation-Majoran relations??
KRS: Well, for one thing, it'll give me a better understanding of your people.
KPR: You mean "feel out our weaknesses" don't you?
KRS: Quite the opposite, Major, I...
KPR: But you're strangers to us, Commander! We just rid of one occupying force and we aren't too eager to take on another!
KRS: We are not an occupying force here, Major!
KPR: You weren't at Beta Epsilon Vi, or Gamma Somalia, or the New Haitian colonies, either, but look how they turned out!

Before Krisko could reply, O'Brother announced that the runabout was ready for launch. Dr. Bashful had returned to the Ops to watch the launch. Justa briefed Krisko on her findings.

JST: What little information I got from the probe proved rather useful, Benjamin. The gasshole works on frequency harmonics.
MOB: Not unlike our docking approach sensors.
JST: Exactly. I programmed the appropriate frequencies into the docking procedure algorithm on the runabout. All you have to do is approach the gasshole like you'd approach a dock and start the program. If all goes well, you should enter the gasshole unscathed.
KRS: If all goes well?
JST: Arch'a je fai, Benjamin.
KRS: What??
BSH: She said "nothing's perfect," uh, sir.
JST: You know Shrillian?
BSH: Just something I...I've been studying up on, lately.
JST: I didn't know you were into foreign languages, Julius.
BSH: Well,...I've always had an ear for your tongue, Justa.
KRS: Can we save the romance for later in this plot? I've got a runabout to catch.

As Krisko made for the Ops lift, Justa approached for a private conversation.

JST: Benjamin, be careful out there.
KRS: Are you worried, old man?
JST: Of course, Ben. Do you remember Notta's last words to you?
KRS: "Careful where you point that phaser, the safety's off?"
JST: Exactly. Just remember it, OK?

With that, Krisko made his way to the runabout dock. At the airlock hatch, he noticed a brass spitoon by the lock's side. As he gave it a closer look, it melted and reformed into the recognizable shape of Odor. He approached Krisko.

KRS: Odor! Don't ever do that to me again!
ODO: Sorry, Commander, I was regenerating myself while waiting for you to arrive.
KRS: Yeah...I'd heard about that little parlor trick of yours.
ODO: I do not use it for a parlor trick, Commander. I was born that way.
KRS: Fine. Now why don't you ooze on down to Quirk's Place and annoy him for awhile?
ODO: But sir, I intend to accompany you on this little venture.
KRS: Not this time, Sheriff. I need to do this solo. Beside, the security of the station is your responsibility. If I don't return, you'll know what to do.
ODO: (sighing in resignation) Aye, sir. Good luck, sir.

With that, Krisko entered the runabout. After piloting the Genghis Khan out of dock, he sped off to the site of the gasshole and initiated the activation sequence. After a few moments of trepidation, the gasshole bloomed like a Majoran orchid and all sensors gave Krisko the green light to enter the hole.

As this happened, the station's sensors and klaxons began to wail, warning of the approach of a Hardassian armada.

What's this? Suspense on the Good Ship Valium? What good stuff will Krisko find in the hole? And what of those Hardassians?

Deep Shit 69 - Chapter 4-1

STAR YECCH! DEEP SHIT 69 CHAPTER IV - A "HOLE" LOTTA LOVIN'... or, THE SHRILL OF A ROMANCE

Special Guest Stars:
Bob Foreapples as Gul Droppings
Joey Buttawipo as Gul Lattrek
Charlie Horse as Colonel Moppett-DeFleur
Kenny Bunkporte as Captain Oedipus Recks
Norman Conquest as Commandant Sam Buca-Romana

SHIP'S STATION LOG, STARDATE 9411.09: Major Keepyer Handsof, Acting Commander, reporting. After numerous mystery clues and with the blessing of her Holiness, the Kai, Commander Krisko has entered the gasshole. This act has swept through the Majoran religious community with a mixture of profanity and reverence. But I do not have time to debate the implications of Krisko's bold move, for the station is being approached by a flight group of Hardassian Marauder-class fighters.

As the Hardassian group approached the station, O'Brother and Lieutenant Broad held double-duty, monitoring the runabout containing Commander Krisko and keeping position with the Hardassians.

KPR: Justa, have you notified Starfleet?
JST: Aye, Major,..but with our remote position, it'll take a few minutes to get a response. What about the Majoran militia?
KPR: What craft they have is only border cruisers and they're no match for that fleet. Damn! What about shields?
MOB: My crews were still installing Federation-level shielding to this place when this happened. What little we have won't survive more than a glancing assault.
JST: Keepyer, how mobile is this station?
KPR: Mobile? You mean beyond gravity gyros?
JST: Yes.
KPR: Well,...we have thrusters to move the station about for repositioning the solar arrays, but they aren't capable of much speed.
MOB: I can reroute some of the station's power to the thrusters to give us more maneuvering room.

Before Major Keepyer could reply, she was hailed from the Hardassian fleet. The glaring vision of a high-ranking Hardassian filled the front viewscreen.

DRP: Station Number 69, this is Gul Droppings of the Fourth Order. I would speak with your commander.
KPR: Gul Droppings, this is Major Keepyer Handsof, acting Commander of this station. Do you realize you're violating our non-aggression treaty??
DRP: What violation, Major? We just came here to witness a new opportunity to expand the Hardassian Empire.
KPR: What,...what opportunity?
DRP: Major, I'm not playing dumb with you,...I mean, don't play dumb with me!! I know where your Commander Krisko went! He entered what your scientists had declared to be the first stable gasshole in space!
KPR: How,...how did you know?
DRP: I have my methods, major.
MOB: (muttering) That bastard, Garbaj!
DRP: Garbaj?? I must be serious,...I mean, are you kidding? We drummed Garbaj out of the fleet years ago.
KPR: And left him here on a Majoran space station. How convenient!
DRP: "Coincidence," Major. Now, if you have no further objections, we shall take up positions to greet Commander Krisko when he returns.

Before Major Keepyer could protest further, the Hardassian cut the commlink. Keepyer pounded her fist to the console in frustration. Odor entered the command center, visibly flustered himself.

ODO: Keepyer, what gives?? What are those Hardassians doing out there?
KPR: Oh, Odor! They're laying claim to the gasshole!
ODO: How did they find out about it?
KPR: Probably your pal, Garbaj, although they deny it!
ODO: Bastards! I'll have my men bring that fool in for questioning!
KPR: I'd look into the little Ferengi weasel, Quirk, too. He'd sell out anything to the highest bidder.
ODO: I'm on it, Major.

As the station became a hotbed of chaos, Krisko was enjoying a more tranquil scene. Upon entering the gasshole, his field of vision was filled with bright lights and changing shapes. Voice, both familiar and strange, filled his head. As though guided by some unknown force, he piloted the runabout to a planetoid that suddenly appeared before him. Despite the runabout's failure to indicate any real planets, he landed and exited the Genghis Khan to find himself again in that Iowa cornfield. Immediately, he looked about for his wife, Marla. After minutes of frustrated searching, he had all but given up hope for finding her; but then, he heard her familiar voice calling him again. He followed the voice through the cornfield until an opening appeared before him. It was a baseball field, just like the ones Krisko had played on as a child! And standing on the pitcher's mound was his wife, Marla.

MLA: You entered the hole, now I will come!
KRS: Marla, is that really you?
MLA: Ooooh, yes! Yes!! YES!!

As Krisko enjoyed this spectacle, the standoff at the station continued. Major Keepyer paced the floor of the Ops as she awaited a response from Starfleet.

KPR: Any word yet, Justa?
JST: No more that in the last five times you've asked me, Keepyer.
KPR: Sorry. What about Krisko's runabout?
JST: My sensors indicate that he's at a standstill somewhere deep in the hole, but the gasshole's electromagnetic fields are disrupting my scans.
KPR: Is the hole maintaining its stability?
JST: For the time being, yes, but Benjamin needs to get out of there in the next twenty minutes, before it collapses and traps him,...gods only know where.
MOB: Major, that communique' you were waiting for is coming through.
KPR: Praise the Prophets, O'Brother! Put it through!

The viewscreen came to life with the unexpected logo of the Starfleet Marine Corps. The Major glanced nervously towards her Starfleet cohorts and back to the viewscreen in time to face the Corps' representative. He was a squat-looking, stern man who glared at the viewscreen and seemed to look right through Keepyer. A caption line below his visage identified him as Commandant Buca-Romana. He spoke to the Major without preamble.

SBM: Major, I'm Commandant Samuel Buca-Romana. I got your communique' through Starfleet Command. Seems your Commander has set off a real hand grenade out there.
KPR: Why,...yes, Commandant. And you also know that we're under siege by the Hardassians?
SBM: Yes, I do. However, there lies the biggest problem. Your treaty with the Federation and the Hardassian Empire never stipulated this,..."gasshole." In turn, the rights to whatever is on the other side is a game of "finder's keepers."
KPR: Surely, you're joking, Commandant??
SBM: Marines never joke, Major. And don't call me "Shirley!" If you want to go on a first-name basis, call me "Sam."
KPR: Aye, sir.
SBM: And don't call me "Sir;" I work for a living,...on second thought, call me "sir." This is the most exciting thing I've dealt with in ages!
KPR: Commandant! What about the Hardassians? Is Starfleet going to let them waltz right through the gasshole and claim it?
SBM: No, Major. If I read the treaty right, Commander Krisko holds the rights to the hole, for now. If he makes First Contact with any life forms on the other side and gets back to us first, we then have the first rights for a treaty. If not, then the Hardassians can lay a similar claim.
KPR: But he's up against a squadron of Marauders, sir! And we're practically defenseless out here!
SBM: I know the situation, Major. I'm sending a contingent of Starfleet Marines as we speak. They'll secure a safe flight path for Commander Krisko. But I want to warn you, Major: the Federation is in no position to start another war with the Hardassians! If need be, we'll withdraw the rights to the gasshole to ensure peace in the quadrant.
KPR: But, Commandant...!
SBM: Orders from the Big Team, Major.
KPR: The Majoran envoy will protest this, you know.
SBM: It's out of my hands, now. Good luck.

The screen returned to a view of the expansive Hardassian fleet. Major Keepyer screamed obscenities in Majoran, while Lieutenant Broad sat passively, waiting for her to calm down.

Deep Shit 69 - Chapter 4-2

JST: If you've finished, major, I have some details of what Starfleet is sending us.
KPR: Go for it, Justa.
JST: They're sending the 12th Martian Marine Division. Commanded by Colonel Moppett-DeFleur. (Reading printout) This is interesting,....
KPR: What?
JST: The lead ship is the U.S.S. Deflated!
KPR: I assume there's some significance o this, Justa?
JST: There is! The Deflated was mothballed from the fleet just after the war with the Bored!
Keepyer, it isn't a Marine-issue ship! These guys mean business!
MOB: The Deflated? Ha! That over-built, over-powered, under-thought-out piece of space garbage? It ranks right up there with that old Earth car, The Edsel!
KPR: Oh, just great!
JST: Now, hold on, you two! As I recall, the Deflated was built as an instrument of destruction, pure and simple. The war between the Federation and the Bored wasn't going well, so the techs at Starfleet threw together what it could beg, borrow and steal to build the Deflated. It was a prototype. After we found a way to shut off the Bored, Starfleet mothballed it without working out all the bugs. Despite what the Commandant says, they're coming out here to kick some ass!
KPR: I hope so, Justa. I hope so.

Justa saw the look of exasperation on the Major's face. She continued to study her files.

JST: And as further proof, the databanks indicate that the entire ranks of the 12th Martian Division are made up entirely of,...clones.
KPR: Clones? I thought the Federation banned cloning ages ago.
JST: Starfleet has been secretly working on selective cloning for some time now. These men are bred to do one thing - kill whatever their directives order.

As Justa's words sank in, Krisko was letting the view sink in. He had found his wife, standing there on the pitcher's mound, dressed in her wedding gown. His mind warred over the rationality of her death versus the reality of what was before him. Familiar smells assaulted his nose. Finally overcoming his doubts, he approached his wife.

KRS: Marla, is that really you?
MLA: I am as real as you wish me to be, Benjamin Krisko.
KRS: But,...you died. At the battle of Jemima III!
MLA: What is death, Benjamin Krisko?
KRS: An end to life. A finality of one's journey. To spin one's self off this mortal coil, et cetera.
MLA: Time? Death? Endings? What are these things of which you speak, Benjamin Krisko?
KRS: What are you, really? My wife would never call me by my full name.
MLA: What shall I call you, Benjamin Krisko?
KRS: Well,...Marla always had a pet name for me. But I'm too embarrassed to tell anyone else.
MLA: As I am the form of your,..."wife," you can tell me, can you not?
KRS: Well,...OK. She used to call me "Mohammed Shabazz." She was always into the "Black to Africa" movement.
MLA: What is it to "return?"
KRS: Wait a minute. Have you no concept of time,..or place?
MLA: We are what we are, Shabazz.
KRS: Just call me "Ben," like my uncle, the rice grower. And what are you?
MLA: We are the GONADS.
KRS: Gonads?
MLA: No, GONADS. All capital letters. It is an acronym.
KRS: I knew that. What are you?
MLA: Galactically Omnipotent Non-Aggressive Deities.
KRS: But why,...? How do you,...? Oh, God,...here comes Excedrin Headache Number 69!

Marla cocked her head and looked quizzically at Ben. She looked to go into a trance for a moment before speaking again.

MLA: Why do you number your pains?
KRS: Never mind. How about if I ask you a question or two?

Again, she blanked as if in a trance. Then she spoke to Krisko.

MLA: This is agreeable, Ben.
KRS: Why take the form of my wife? And how do you know who I am?
MLA: We chose a form that would not alarm you, Ben. We gathered the data of your wife when you touched our probe.
KRS: You mean the Tears of the Prophets?
MLA: That is what the Others call them?
KRS: Yes. These Tears are revered by a people called "Majorans."
MLA: These,...Majorans,..what are they?
KRS: They are much like I am,..except they have funny-looking noses, bad attitudes, and they like to grab people's ears.
MLA: Yes. We have had much contact with these Majorans. They have endured much hardship.
KRS: Yes. You know of the war?
MLA: What is "war?" Your language, it contains many idiots.
KRS: "Idioms."
MLA: Those, too. The Majorans,..they had a war?

Krisko continued his conversation with the GONAD. In turns, he explained much of human culture to her. Meanwhile, the tense standoff between the Hardassians and DS 69 continued. When the crew seemed at its wit's end, the sensors brought a glimmer of hope.

JST: Major, I'm picking up the Deflated on the advanced sensors. I can't be exactly sure until they get closer, but it looks like they brought the entire Martian Guard with them!
KPR: Terrific. Keep me posted.
JST: Aye, sir.
ODO: Security to Ops: Major Keepyer?
KPR: Go ahead, Odor.
ODO: I have detained both Garbaj and Quirk down here. Care to help me with the interrogation?
KPR: Only if you make it real quick, Odor. As the humans would say, "the Cavalry is coming over the hill."
ODO: You'll have to explain that one to me later.

Major Keepyer made quickly for the Security room. She arrived to find Odor and several Security guerrillas standing over Quirk and Garbaj. Both were detained to special detention seats. The Major thanked the Prophets that Odor hadn't yet resorted to using "the rack" the Hardassians had "conveniently" left behind.

ODO: Well, well, well, Quirk. What do you have to tell me about this?
QRK: There's nothing,..uh, nothing to tell, Odor!
ODO: You're awfully nervous about something, when you know nothing. Or do the Hardassians already have what little you knew?
QRK: Rule of Acquisition Number 502: No profit is gained when nothing is sold.
ODO: Rule of Interrogation Number One: I know a Ferengi rat when I smell one. You'd sell your brother to the Hardies if there was a profit involved.
QRK: Rom? My brother Cidi Rom? He's like,...well, like a brother to me! Everything I made, I owe to him!
ODO: How touching. What you owe to him is probably back pay for all his hard work.
GBJ: This is getting you nowhere, Mr. Odor. I have a shop to run and if you have no further need of me, I'm losing money because of this,...charade.
ODO: You may leave when you can explain to me why the entire Fourth Order is parked outside this station, waiting for something to happen that they should know nothing about.
GBJ: And you've detained me because I, too, am a Hardassian?
ODO: Sounds as good as any other reason, Mr. Garbaj.
GBJ: Are you calling me a spy? I don't like that kind of innuendo.
ODO: Innuendo? How do you define that?
GBJ: I define innuendo as "an Italian enema," but that's not important right now. The Obstinate Order has eyes everywhere, Odor. Are you so naive as to think that when the Hardassians pulled out of this station, they didn't leave a few "bugs" behind?
ODO: Such as you?

Major Keepyer, who had been watching this exchange impassionately, approached Odor and conversed with him in private.

KPR: Odor! We're losing time at the gasshole!
ODO: But I know that they know something. I just need more time to prove it.
KPR: Then detain them for now. We haven't got the time for this!
ODO: (sighing) Very well. I'll have my men put them on bread and water until they confess.

Deep Shit 69 - Chapter 4-3

Meanwhile, back at the interstellar ballfield, Krisko was still trying to get to first base with Marla. They walked together, admiring the scenery.

KRS: Wow! This is some field.
MLA: And some corn.
KRS: Some grass.
MLA: Some trees.
KRS: Some dew.
MLA: I don't.
KRS: You did when you were alive! You wanted to start such a big family.
MLA: You must,...reproduce yourselves? Why?
KRS: Humans have a limited existence. We are born, grow to maturity, then we expire.
MLA: How do you reproduce? You must explain this to me.
KRS: I think a visual, hands-on approach would be more,...enlightening.

After Krisko's "hands-on" demonstration, he awoke to smell food cooking. He was no longer in the field, but in his home back on Earth. He entered the kitchen area to find Marla preparing a meal.

MLA: Our research indicates that your species requires sustenance. I have prepared some food for you, Ben.
KRS: Is that duck a l'orange I smell cooking?
MLA: Yes, Ben.
KRS: I haven't had duck for ages! Oh, how I miss that fowl taste in my mouth!

As the twosome sat down for dinner, the Marines arrived to cook some Hardassian goose.

MOB: Major, you're being hailed by the commander, Deflated.
KPR: Put him on the screen, Miles.
MOB: Aye, ma'am.

The image on the screen was of a surprisingly young man. He had a look of grave consternation as he addressed the station.

MPT: Major Keepyer, I'm Colonel Frederick Moppett-DeFleur, commander of the 12th Martian Division.
KPR: Glad to have your assistance, Colonel.
MPT: I'll be beaming aboard momentarily, Major. My troops will begin taking up positions around this gasshole of yours. Just how stable is it?
KPR: My science officer's original estimates called for a shutdown about fifteen minutes ago, but for some reason, it's holding.
MPT: Very good, I,...
JST: Major, the Hardassians want a word with you about this.
KPR: Tell them I have a word for them: G'Herk! (Hardassians for "F*** you!")

Before Justa could deliver the message, Gul Droppings broke into the screen display, facing side-by-side with the Marine colonel.

DRP: Major, you must protest,...I must protest! What is a contingent of Federation Marines doing here? I don't recall this area being declared a hostile zone!
KPR: It wasn't a hostile zone until you arrived, Droppings!
MPT: We're here to keep you Hardies in line!
DRP: By surrounding us in the gasshole,...I mean, surrounding the gasshole?
MPT: Our treaty with the Majorans stipulates armed force to prevent foreign incursion until the Provisional government gets its act together.
DRP: But the gasshole is an open claim,..until Krisko returns.
MPT: And until then, you keep your slimy fingers out of our hole!

The colonel moved to drop the Hardassians from the screen. He smirked as he addressed Major Keepyer.

MPT: I'd like to come aboard and go over the finer details of this operation, Major.
KPR: Why,...of course, Colonel. Permission granted.
MPT: Very good. Prepare for beaming.

Moments later, the whine of a transporter beam brought the colonel and several aides-de-camp. The colonel moved to introduce his team.

MPT: Major, this is my executive officer, Captain Oedipus Recks.
KPR: Nice name, Captain.
MPT: I loved my mother very much.
KPR: But you...you're a clone. You don't have a mother!
MPT: Uh,...a little joke from the boys at PsyCorps. Every clone is fitted with a personality profile.
KPR: I see.
MPT: And this is my legal advisor, Lt. Commander Donnie Brooke.

The group made perfunctory greetings before the Major briefed the Marines and DS 69 officers. Back at the gasshole, Krisko continued an intellectual exchange with the GONADs.

KRS: A pitcher throws the ball to the batter and the batter attempts to hit the ball and score. Now do you get it?
MLA: I believe it would be better to know the outcome in advance.
KRS: But that's part of the fun! By not knowing what will happen next, it presents a challenge! Humans crave challenges. That's why we came to this hole. It's why we explore all of space.
MLA: Your people have many concepts foreign to us, but you intrigue the GONADs.
KRS: Thank you, Marla, but I am still curious. What lies beyond this place? Where does the gasshole end?
MLA: Your "probe" will return to you in due time, Ben. Now, you too, must return to your people. The GONADs will allow safe passage to your people through the gasshole.
KRS: Why?
MLA: It shall give the GONADs a chance to further observe you.
KRS: I'll miss you, Marla.
MLA: I shall always be here, Ben. I have always been here.
KRS: How,..how do I explain you to the Majorans?
MLA: The Majorans have chosen you as their Emissary. Tell them what the faithful will believe of us.
KRS: I will. Goodbye, Marla.

With a reluctant embrace, Krisko returned to the runabout and set course back to the station.

What will happen to Krisko when he returns? What about Captain Recks? Does he really have a mother to love? Do you love your mother? Stay tuned, Yekkers, I have to consult with Sigmund Freud before Chapter V!