June 18

[Sa'ar Chasm]

Sisko: (over the comm) Hello everyone. I've brought back a little surprise for the Dominion.
O'Brien: Wow. It must be something really hush-hush if you had to deliver it here in a cloaked Federation starship.

*znerk*

Odo: I agree. Who in their right mind would build a ship so packed with weapons that it doesn't have space for proper living quarters?
Bashir: I've been told the design came from a family business that's been submitting proposals to Starfleet for nearly two centuries. I'm sure the current president of Reed Enterprises must be pleased that his company finally made a sale.

I think the Zeke-Reed is more iconic than the real Reed.

T'Rul: Yes we do. The charts show a planet "Aaahhhhh" only five light-years from here on course one-seven-three mark fourteen.

I'm sure there's a story behind that name. Must have died while typing it.

Kira: Instrument? Odo, that's not a tricorder, that's the odometer from the shuttlecraft's instrument panel. Of what possible use....
(Several shapeshifters rise out of the lake and assume humanoid form)
Odo: I rest my case.

*twitch* The puns, the puns...although I guess an odometer could be considered a device to measure Odos.

Worf: The ship is undamaged.
Troi: We couldn't have adapted that quickly.
Data: I guess the knowledge and experience of the human Riker are part of them now. They are so screwed.

*snicker* Poor Riker. The butt of every joke.

Riker: Well, I was supposed to start a mutiny with Galen so I could find out who his supporters are before I kill him.
Picard: Don't worry, I'll tell him for you.

It's like talking to Clark Kent about Superman.

(or Bruce Wayne about Batman, or Matt Murdoch about Daredevil, etc)

Tallera: I'm trying to stop a group of Vulcan isolations who believe in an unorthodox philosophy of FDFC from assembling the Stone of Gol.

*g* We believe they're using finite mathematics.

Worf: Let's bring the shuttle aboard with a tractor beam and search it.
Data: I don't know. We might give the pilot a heart attack or something.
Worf: Yes, but by the terms of the Klingon-Federation Treaty, we are allowed to search and give seizure.

BWAHAHAHA!

Galen: Are you sure it's not just an imbalance of blood and phlegm making you ill?
Baran: Galen, heal thyself.

Well played.

Riker: You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?
Satok: Not a clue.

That makes two of them.

Lennier: Ah. What are you drinking?
Vir: I'm not sure. Something I bought from that Haitian bartender.

If this confused you, don't worry. It confused me too. I'd forgotten what I had in mind when I wrote it.

Also, mmm, mint.