Deep Shit 69 - Chapter 1-1

STARDATE 9308.10 - Log of the Starship Boobyprize, Captain Jean-Luc Dildeaux commanding. Having somewhat successfully completed my first assignment aboard the Boobyprize, I have now been ordered to transport vital Starfleet personnel to the starbase, DS69. Upon arrival, I am to oversee the insertion of these key officers into their respective posts. Having reviewed their records, I can see that Starfleet is placing a priority on getting this station up and running. I am also left wondering if I can twist some arms in the Admiralty and change some of the postings, so that I can rid myself of my "ship of fools." Damn! I really could use these officers; my own ship is replete with social misfits, buffoons, and assorted ass-kissing cretins! Alas, I am merely the captain aboard the flagship of the Federation, which I presume doesn't count for much these days. But I can dream. Before we arrive at DS69, I need to brief the base's future commanding officer, one Benjamin Krisko. I understand he holds some reservations about this posting, having recently lost his wife in a battle with the Hardassians.

As Captain Dildeaux finished his log, the door to Boobyprize's ready room chimed. Dildeaux grudgingly bid the intruder to enter, A human of African origin entered. Dildeaux recognized him as Commander Benjamin Krisko, a rather greasy sort of fellow. Krisko saluted the captain, and Dildeaux gestured for him to sit down.

DLD: Commander Krisko, would you like a cup of tea? It's Earl Grey, my own blend.
KRS: Frankly, Captain Dildo, I'd like you just cut to the chase,...and Earl Grey is a faggot's drink, sir.
DLD: It's Dildeaux, Commander.
KRS: Whatever.
DLD: I understand you served as First Officer on the U.S.S. Spenser.
KRS: Aye, Captain. But Starfleet decommissioned her, sir. I think she's now available for hire.
DLD: Then you served under Captain Urich?
KRS: Yes, sir. He was a great leader. I learned a great deal from him before he passed away.
DLD: Alas,...poor Urich! I knew him well.
KRS: Aye, sir.
DLD: Your dossier states that you have some reservations about this posting. Does the death of your wife play into this?
KRS: Damn straight, homeboy! She dies when the Hardassians hit the Spenser! I haven't had time to properly grieve her loss and yet, I'm ordered to baby-sit some useless space station until the Majorans get their act together?? AND,..I have to play the part of "diplomat to the Hardassians on top of that!
DLD: I understand your point, Commander, but,...
KRS: You don't know shit,..sir! The Hardassians will sit back, wait until things calm down, and reclaim that undermanned, outgunned spinning garbage pile for their own! It's as obvious as the nose on a Majoran's face!
DLD: You seem quite adamant about this, Commander. Would you prefer something quieter, like Outpost 101? That would look just splendid on your record, Krisko.
KRS: Say what, honkie?
DLD: I don't like your tone, Mister. I could easily get you assigned to a Veloran border guard ship. I hear Velorans hate Negroes.
KRS: Ofay honkie!
DLD: Or even a Rigellian garbage scow!
KRS: Dead honkie!

The two men glared at each other. Krisko, being several inches taller than Dildeaux, towered over the Captain. Dildeaux broke into a sweat and swallowed hard. He hardly needed to answer to the Galactic Association for the Advancement of Colored Humanoids at this point in his career,..what with a select, but influential, minority group of the admiralty being black!

DLD: Or,...I could keep you right here if that pleases you.
KRS: All personal feelings aside, Captain,..I am a Starfleet officer. I have a duty to perform and I intend to do my best. Now, sir, if you'll excuse me, I have to check in with the Majoran liaison.
DLD: Dismissed.

Krisko made his way to the transporter room. Miles O'Brother, Boobyprize's former transporter chief, greeted him. O'Brother was scheduled to join Krisko on DS 69 as the new Chief of Operations.

MOB: Ah, Commander Krisko. I was just about to have you paged, sir.
KRS: Nevermind the ass-kissing, O'Brother. Let's just get this over with.
MOB: Aye, sir. Awaiting the signal from DS69.

Krisko stepped onto the transporter pad. He fumed as he waited for the signal from DS69.

MOB: OK, sir. I've gotten the signal. Prepare to beam down.
KRS: Aren't you coming, Mr. O'Brother?
MOB: I'll be down momentarily, sir. Just some last-minute things to clear up. You know, sir, the wife and,..uh,...I'm sorry, sir,..I didn't mean,...

The whine and glisten of the transporter beam thankfully engulfed Krisko.

KRS: I'll give you five min....
MOB: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

The transporter beam reformed Krisko in the Operational Center. After the usual momentary imbalance, he came to his senses. The Ops was bustling with activity, as the Majorans steadily went about their business, trying to refit the stripped equipment. Orders were being given in Majoran, a language Krisko barely had time to learn and was having difficulty understanding even now. From what he assumed was the control center, his new office, he heard a loud female voice yelling vehemently at somebody in Majoran.

Deep Shit 69 - Chapter 1-2

The whine of a transporter beam interrupted Krisko's thoughts. He looked to his right to find O'Brother standing next to him.

KRS: O'Brother, you've been down here already, haven't you?
MOB: Aye, sir. What's on your mind, sir?
KRS: What is that woman in my office yelling about? And what is she doing in there?
MOB: Oh, that would be Major Keepyer Handsoff, sir. She's your Majoran liaison, sir. I can't make out exactly what she's saying, but I know she's had a bug up her ass all week about the transfer of command, sir.
KRS: Oh,is that so? I guess I'll have to do something about that.
MOB: Uh,...sir, one word of caution. Have you ever dealt with a Majoran woman before>
KRS: No, O'Brother, I haven't. Is there something I should know?
MOB: Have you ever wrestled with a Vulcan sehlat, sir?
KRS: What is this, O'Brother, twenty questions?
MOB: Well,...wrestling with a sehlat is easier, sir.

Krisko paused at the chief's last statement. Building himself up to muster all his courage, he walked into the command room. The Major was still berating someone on the other end of the commlink when he entered. It was several moments until she looked up and noticed him. She placed the commlink on hold and addressed Krisko.

KPR: And what the hell do you want, Fed?
KRS: I'm,...uh, Commander Krisko. Just thought I'd,..ah,..introduce myself and say "Hello."

The Majoran looked flustered for a brief moment, but recovered and gave Krisko a sarcastic look.

KPR: "Hello." I'll be with you in a second. (To commlink) I'll deal with you assholes later. Keepyer, out.
KRS: Thank you, Major Handsoff.
KPR: It's "Keepyer," dammit! Typical human,..can't be bothered to learn Majoran patrynomes! Nevermind, I suppose you're here to assume command?
KRS: Yes, Major,...Keepyer. As of now, 1117 hours, I assume command of DS69. Computer: make the appropriate log notifications, command code Krisko Alpha 1-1-1.
KPR: Good. Take it. And may the Prophets help you!
KRS: Major, I think we need to sit down and discuss your attitude about this whole situation.
KPR: What's to discuss?? You Feds are just replacing the Hardassians as our new masters!
KRS: I take exception to that remark, Major. I lost my wife to the Hardassians and I don't exactly relish this command, either. I'll be more than happy to leave when the Majoran government gives the word.

The two officers glared at each other. They were interrupted by a signal from the commlink. Krisko acknowledged the signal.

MOB: O'Brother here, sir. Sorry to interrupt the fighting,..I mean your briefing, but the rest of the Federation officers have arrived, sir. They're awaiting your orders, sir.
KRS: Have them report to my office, Chief.
MOB: Aye, sir.
KRS: Any word on my son, O'Brother?
MOB: Aye, sir. Jerk beamed down with the rest of the officers, sir. I believe he went straight to your quarters, sir.
KRS: Very good, O'Brother. Krisko, out. Now, Major, if you'll excuse me,...
KPR: Aye, sir. I'll go help O'Brother get his act together.
KRS: Why don't you do that, Major.

With that, the two parted company. Krisko sat wearily into the command chair. While he was trying to sort out the array of his console, which was only in Hardassian and Majoran script, someone knocked on his office door. Krisko sighed and ordered the officer to enter, almost immediately regretting the order. The young man tripped as he came in, dropping his duffel bag at Krisko's feet. When the arrival stood up, Krisko recognized the man as the new Medical Officer, Dr. Bashful. He wore the rank insignia of a lieutenant, junior grade. That marked him as fresh from the Academy. Krisko made a mental note of this. When the doctor composed himself, Krisko addressed him.

KRS: Can I help you, son?
BSH: I,...uh,..gosh,..Commander,..sir. I didn't mean to make quite an entrance, sir. I'm Dr. Julius Bashful, sir,..uh, Lieutenant, junior grade, sir.
KRS: Very well, Doctor. Have you checked in with Medical, yet?
BSH: Oh, gosh, no, sir. I,...thought I ought to come here first and introduce myself, sir. Starfleet regulations state protocol...
KRS: Yes, yes. Well, I'm glad to meet you, Doctor, But may I ask you a personal question?
BSH: Why,..of course, sir.
KRS: How does a "fresh-from-the Academy" med graduate get posted this far into space?
BSH: Well,...my, um, specialty was xenophysiology, sir. I always dreamed of practicing medicine out in the frontier, relying on brains, and sweat, and luck as much as advanced medical technique, sir!
KRS: A 'frontier' doc, eh? (Chuckling) Very well, Doctor,..dismissed.
BSH: Aye, sir.

As Dr. Bashful backed out of the Commander's officer, he attempted a proper Academy-standard salute during his exit. As he did so, he lost his balance and fell backwards. Bashful let out a cry, but before he hit the ground, someone caught him from behind. When he composed himself, he looked up to thank his savior,...and promptly fell in love. As Bashful stood up, he saw the most beautiful women he'd ever met: she was tall, well-endowed, had long brown hair, and slightly greenish skin. Leopard-like spots just below the hairline completed her beauty. She smiled slightly at him and extended her hand to greet him.

Deep Shit 69 - Chapter 1-3

JST: Are you OK, Doctor?
BSH: I,...I'm just fine. Have we met before, um, ma'am?
JST: No, we haven't. I'm Lieutenant Justa Broad, the new Science Officer. You're Dr. Bashful, aren't you?
BSH: I...how did you know my name, Lieutenant?
JST: I checked the roster before I came to see the Commander. And you can skip the Academy protocol and call me Justa.
BSH: OK. If you'll excuse me,..Justa, I, uh, need to check into the medical center. I guess I'll catch you at the briefing?
JST: Sure thing, Julius.

She smiled as she watched the young officer walk away from her, seemingly on Cloud Nine. She turned and entered the command office. Krisko smiled as she entered, having watched the previous encounter with some amusement.

KRS: I take it you've met our new doctor, Broad?
JST: It's "Justa" now, Benjamin.
KRS: Decided on a change of scenery, hmm?
JST: Nah. Notta finally wore out, so I had to make a switch. This body was the next available one.
KRS: I wonder if the good doctor knows you're a Shrill?
JST: He'll find out in good time. Now, do you want to go over this place and make a plan of action?
KRS: I don't even know where to start. The Hardassians left this place as little more than a bare hull! It'll take Starfleet weeks to shuttle in the needed parts!
JST: What about the Majorans? Can they get anything here quicker?
KRS: O'Brother says they've been trying their damnedest, but they lack the resources, too.
JST (Sighing) Well, anytime you're ready, Benjamin.

The pair exited the command room and walked back into the chaos that was the Operations Center. After conferring with Major Keepyer, a decision was made to check out the Boardwalk, first. As they made their way past all sorts of Majorans, both civilian and military, they were confronted by an elderly Majoran cleric. He made the traditional Majoran greeting to Krisko and Justa before he spoke.

CLR: The Prophets greet you, Emissary.
KRS: Hello to you, too, sir.
CLR: Soon, your time will come. The Prophets have foreseen this.
KRS: I'm afraid I don't understand. My time will come?
CLR: You will go to the Hall of the Prophets. It will be soon.
KRS: I'm still confused.
CLR: (muttering) Prophets-be-damned stupid nigger! If you seek wisdom, seek out her Holiness, Kai Impala.

With that, the cleric walked away from the confused duo. Krisko stared at his Science Officer, who simply shrugged.

KRS: What was that all about?
JST: The Kai, Impala, is the spiritual leader of the Majorans. Their religion is based on the words of "the Prophets." As the story goes, these Prophets have been sending out crystal icons to the Majorans for millennia. They just "appear" out of nothingness. Those who make contact with these crystals experience some kind of ecstasy, filling them will all kinds of spiritual stuff. The Kai eventually became the only one permitted to contact these crystals and interpret the messages.
KRS: Uh,...yeah. Any truth to all this?
JST: Starfleet investigated some of the stories. The interesting part is this thing about "sudden appearances." Scientists think this may possibly be a spatial asshole manifesting itself.
KRS: You mean "wormhole," don't you?
JST: No. Actually, Starfleet categorizes this as an asshole because nothing but shit keeps coming out of it.

Krisko let the joke pass without comment. After a perfunctory inspection of the Boardwalk and a brief run-in with Quirk, the Ferengi who ran the local saloon, Krisko found himself still puzzled and disturbed by the Majoran clerics comments. Lieutenant Broad suggested he get this off his chest and follow the cleric's advice and visit the Kai. After making the appropriate arrangements, including returning command over to Major Keepyer, Krisko and Justa boarded a shuttlecraft and made for the Majoran homeworld,

What will Krisko find on Majora? Will he uncover the secrets of the galactic asshole? Tune in to Part II of this stirring saga for the answers.

Deep Shit 69 - Chapter 2-1

STAR YECCH! DEEP SHIT 69

CHAPTER II - INTO THE HOLE

...or, Bring Lots of KY Jelly

Special Guest Star:
Faye Dunaway-Withe as Kai Impala

When we left our heroes,...not much happened because the writer was too goddamned busy setting up this stuff. However, Commander Krisko met a Majoran cleric who prophesied the Commander's future. Puzzled by the cleric's statements, Krisko and Lieutenant Justa Broad, his science officer, decided to visit the planet Majora and speak with the spiritual leader of the Majorans, Kai Impala.

STATION LOG 9309.16 - Commander Benjamin Krisko commanding. I have arrived at DS69, the Boobyprize has since warped away to their next assignment and I am already beginning to regret this assignment. These people are out of their frigging minds! Already, I find myself tasked with the duty of unraveling the words of a Majoran cleric. I must go to Majora and put an end to this mystery and perhaps gain insight into these strange people.

Aboard the runabout USS Adolph Hitler, Krisko and Broad approached Labia Majora.

KRS: Just, were you able to research anything more about this "Kai?"
JST: Her name is "Impala." She's of the Chevrolet sect - a very stringent branch of the Majoran religious sect. She's said to be quite understanding, but very zealous about her faith and about outsiders.
KRS: Great! A right-wing fanatic holds the key to this mystery!
JST: Right...wing?
KRS: An old Earth expression. Ever since Khan Noonian Singh destroyed Hollywood, the name became meaningless. Used to refer to defenders of truth, justice and familial bonds. Socialists from Hollywood smeared their efforts for years.
JST: Ohhh. I remember the old divides. Well,..by that definition, Benjamin, the Chevrolet sect is nothing compared to the Edsels. They broke away from the Phords but never gained public support. They...

Krisko was saved from another long-winded discussion by the proximity alert from Majora. In her previous incarnation, Notta Broad was a highly-educated man who was Krisko's mentor and helped shape him into what he was today. But even then, the Shrill's polemic ramblings bored the hell out of Krisko.

JST: Benjamin, the Majorans have given us clearance to land, but we have to wait until they bless the ground.
KRS: Some sort of religious act, I suppose? Make us ready to meet the Kai?
JST: Not really, sir. They state they are honored with a visit from the Emissary.
KRS: Me?
JST: You.

The runabout touched down in a lush meadow outside the Kai's abbey. The abbey itself was replete with trees, bushes, clear running streams and gardens of all sorts of designs. Krisko stared at the beauty of it all and of the stark contrast of this with the scenes of deprivation and squalor he had seen in the Majoran metropolises of Parvo and Anthrax. The twosome were led into a great hall decorated with icons and tapestries of great beauty. After being seated, they waited for what seemed an eternity for their host. When the wait seemed almost unbearable, the silence of the room was broken by the approach of a small gnome-like woman dressed in simple cardinal and purple robes. Without fanfare, she introduced herself.

IMP: I am the Kai, Impala. You honor us with your presence, Emissary.
KRS: I am equally honored, Kai. However, I am deeply puzzled as well. I came to seek answers from my meeting with your cleric.
IMP: Ahhhh,..that would be Veddek Nova. He is our dourick.
KRS: Yes, I could tell he was a dork.
IMP: (gasping) Amazing!!! What is it that puzzles he who knows all secrets??
KRS: That's just it, Kai: I don't know all!! And what gives with this "Emissary" nonsense?
JST: Benjamin!!
IMP: No need to apologize. The Prophets have not yet made his mission clear to him and this troubles his soul. I can tell that you both are great warriors and our beliefs preach peace. Therein lies the conflict.

The Kai appeared to go into a trance. When she reopened her eyes, she stared intently at Lieutenant Broad.

IMP: In you, my dear, I see archery. You come from a great line of spear makers. And in you, Emissary, I see slavery and that you come froma family of spear chuckers. Now, if you will excuse us, I must sit with the Emissary alone.

Justa was shown to an anteroom by several clerics-in-training and given refreshments. When she left, the Kai sat next to Krisko.

IMP: Before we begin, I must know your paah.
KRS: My Pa? I never knew him. He died more than a year before I was born.
IMP: Not your father, your paah. Your..."soul."

With that, she grabbed his right ear. Krisko let out a yelp of pain.

KRS: OUCH!! What was that, some sort of religious act??
IMP: No, dammit. You're sitting too far away from me. I was trying to get a closer look so I could see your face. I am near-sighted and I cannot afford a pair of glasses!