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.