[PointyHairedJedi]

Part the splinge!



*Some hours later...*

PHJ: So, how is it looking?
Chief: We've had to switch to backup systems in a few places, but we're otherwise about as ready as we can be.
PHJ: Hmm. Good. You know, I don't believe I've ever been down to Engineering before. Most of the time I just stay on the bridge. Oh, you should here the fuss they make when I take a bath.
Chief: I'm told it's a sight that's hard to forget, sir.
PHJ: You know, it's nice and roomy down here. Plenty of space if I wanted to install a few bathtubs, eh?
Chief: Please. I'm begging you. Have mercy.
PHJ: Ha ha, what a jolly sense of humour you have. I'll have to make you come up to my end of the ship more often. Retrofitting the entire ship so that I could travel in my genuine reproductionPopemobile down the corridors and turbolifts is all very well, but it's better in the long run to make the little people come to you. Shows them the proper order of things.
Chief: Is there anything I can say to that that won't end up with me in the brig?
PHJ: Ordinarily, no, but as I'm feeling expansive today I'll let you off with doing my laundry for the next week. I don't trust the computer with it any more.
Chief: The clown trousers do sort of suit you, sir, though I couldn't say precisely why.
PHJ: Then you'd better take extra special care of them. In fact, here, take them right now.
Chief: Sir, really, I... oh, good heavens.
PHJ: That's right. Hotpants, baby. Hotpants. And now, I must go and grace someone else with my presence. Computer, beam me to the bridge! I can't be doing with any more of this walkingmalarky today.
*The strangely dressed jerk dematerialises*
Chief: Let's see -- I'm holding the captain's clown trousers, and there's a Popemobile taking up most of the compartment. And yet, oddly, it doesn't feel that strange any more. Would somebody fetch me some Daz and a pair of driving gloves, please?

Zeke: It would be hard to tell that just a few hours we were getting the crap kicked out of us. Nice job, Mister NAH.
NAH: Don't thank me, sir. Thank the magical powers of--
Zeke: I warn you, I will come down there and get all mathematical on yo' ass.
NAH: ...
Zeke: Yeah. I... don't quite know what came over me there. Must be the stress.
Mudshark: Given that there are twice the usual number of PHJ's, and that you're having to deal with both of them, at the same time no less, it's hardly surprising.
Zeke: Yeah. It's a good thing that pie isn't as unhealthy as it used to be - I've just had my third in as many hours. Mmmm, pie.
IJD: We've been meaning to talk to you about that. Myself and most of the other officers are starting to get a little worried about your high rate of pie consumption in general.
Zeke: What are you implying? It's not a problem. I don't have a problem! I can stop any time I like, dammit!
IJD: Are you sure? We've all noticed it.
Sa'ar: We're coming to you as friends, sir.
Mudshark: We're not judging you in any way at all.
Zeke: You know what? Fine. I'll give up pie if you'll respectively give up cedar, gold nanoparticles, and flower pressing.
*There is silence, and crickets can be heard (which is pretty strange when you think about it. I mean, how on earth would crickets get onto the bridge of a Federationstarship ? The only logical conclusion is that someone released them on purpose just in case there was such a silence, and who'd do a wacky thing like that? Except, of course, Nate is now on the bridge, so... Uh, yeah. Back to the story)*
Zeke: Yeah, that's what I thought. Now enough of this -- we've got a lunatic to beat the crap out of.
Valium: Which one do you mean, exactly?
Zeke: Either. Both. I don't care. I'm going to enjoy it regardless. Mister Nate, plot a course to take us near to the last known position of mirrorPHJ's ship, and prepare to engage on my mark. Mister Tate, signal non-mirror PHJ's ship and tell him he's going to follow along and help sort out this mess he's dragged me into or else I'm going to get his arse thrown out ofStarfleet for good.
Nate: Nice use of 'arse' there, sir.
Zeke: Your toadying is noted. Mister Shark, are we battle-ready?
Mudshark: My trigger finger is itchy with excitement, sir.
Zeke: I'm glad to see I'm not the only one getting into this. Engage!

Comms: Zeke's signalling that he's ready to go, sir. There's some more to the message than that, but I don't want to be the guy that repeats the rest.
PHJ: Whoah! Where did you spring from? I didn't even know we had a comms officer.
Comms: It's not like get much to do, what with you being a 'ram first and ask questions later' kind of guy.
PHJ: Heh, yeah. One of my more endearing qualities.
T.O.: Was that irony? I can't tell.
Helm: Always assume it isn't. You won't often be wrong.
PHJ: I'm sitting right here, you know!
Helm: I can't tell you how fervently we wish you weren't, sir. *SPLAT*
PHJ: Hmph. It's just not the same. I want agonized screams, dammit. Do I have to resort to Barry Manilow over the PA? Is that what it'll take?
Number One: Sir, Zeke is leaving, and we really should follow.
PHJ: Very well. Go to tap-dancing monkey alert and follow that ship!

mS.O.: Mercy! Please! Have mercy!
mPHJ: ...Sometimes all I need is the air that I breathe and to love youuuuu....
mS.O.: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Stop! Please! I've... I've found them! Mercy!
mPHJ: ...All I need is the air that I-- ...Found them, you say? Good news for you then, buddy.
mS.O.: They went off towards this nebula here.
mT.O.: Actually, sir, the probes show two ships at extreme long range heading back this way. I rather suspect it's them.
mPHJ: Not so good news for you then, buddy. Finding them just as they were heading back anyway... bad timing, eh? I predict that many awful things will happen to you in the near future.
mS.O.: Eeep.
mPHJ: Eeep indeed, buddy, eeep indeed. All hands, feet, and bits in between, prepare boarding parties and go to red alert! Oh boy, this is the fun part.

*The scene: the SSWIPTT, which is managing somehow to both lurk and hulk at the same time, no mean feat given that it's an inanimate starship in the middle of a whole lot of nothing, is waiting in the middle of said nothing for two other ships, who appear... any moment now, I promise... any moment now...aaaany moment... oh, come on, this is just taking the widdle -- there, there they are, took their flaming time, ruined my whole narration, the dastards. Forming up into an attack formation that can only be described as eccentric, the two ships go in for the attack. The battle can only be described as epic, a veritable special effects bonanza, which had we been concerned about things like budget, probably would have cost oodles. For a while it seems like the two attacking Starfleet ships have the advantage, but the SSWIPTT seems to be able to take the beating and dish it right back out again with interest; a concerted attack on the first ship causes such massive damage that the hull is irreparably breached in a great many places. Clouds of gas rush out the holes, carrying many bodies with them, and external and internal lights flicker and die for the last time. It appears to be entirely dead. The remaining ship, a plucky little Intrepid, seems unable to escape at warp, and so attacks even more furiously than before. It is however entirely futile; a massive volley of torpedoes plows into it, causing to explode with a sudden and dramatic violence that in other circumstances would look really cool. The SSWIPTT , victorious, takes the dead hulk in tow and warps to the nearest empty star system to pick over the hulk, like some kind of strange mechanical vulture, in peace. At the site where the battle occurred, all that is left is a vast cold cloud of debris, littered with the corpses of Starfleet's finest. It would be fair to say, 'sucks to be them'.*

mPHJ: An excellent haul! And what a glorious battle! I enjoyed it muchly, and I expect everyone else did too.
mT.O.: You betcha!
mNumber One: It was pretty good, though I'd quite like my arm back.
mEMH: Don't whinge, man, I'll pinch one from the many redshirt corpses that are lying around.
mPHJ: An evil hologram after my own heart.
mEMH: Does that mean I can have my own goatee and eyepatch at last? You do keep promising.
mPHJ: That was before you tried to reprogram the holodeck to kill me. Just be thankful I let you off with changing your appearance to that of Geoffrey Archer.
mEMH: That would probably be more of a punishment if anyone actually remembered who he was these days.
mPHJ: I remember, EMH, and that's all that counts. Now then. I want a report on those two ships that we blantered.
mT.O.: One was called the Titan and was commanded by an annoying bearded man by the name of Riker. The other was the Voyager, which was commanded by the equally annoying Admiral Janeway.
mPHJ: I killed the counterparts of Riker and Janeway? Sweet.
mNumber One: Indeed sir, indeed. Um... perhaps you'll excuse me while I go and shave.
mPHJ: Shave, Number One? Why, I think not. Hold him down, boys, while I fetch a waxing kit!
mEMH: (Aside) And to think, I once tried to kill him. How foolish I was!