Hic!

LAST TIME ON LICC...

The whole Dnar'af thing got wrapped up, pretty unsatisfyingly. Hee hee...

Everybody's headed back to Earth, where Colanator's been a naughty artificial intelligence. Some bad space is making everybody dream, Robot Redshirt was found drifting among the void, and Milkshake is attempting to hail the LegionICC in the 64th century! Are they willing to respond and help? Tune in...uh, like, now!

Artsy settles gently onto the couch next to Kieran, so as not to wake him. The amber light patterns flashing through the viewport distract her. They're not patterns at all. Or not patterns as she is used to seeing them.... The artist turns to stare out the viewport, trying to make sense of the odd phenomenon.

A small hand on her arm breaks Artsy's concentration. "Yes?" She turns to Quito, who has crawled over Kieran onto her lap.

The child lifts her head. In place of her beautiful eyes, interlocking gears click mechanically. That mute mouth opens in an arhythmic stream of clicks and squeals.

Involuntarily Artsy jerks back--

--blinks--

--and sees only Kieran and Quito, asleep. Kieran must have felt her jerk, however, because he blinks sleepily at her. "You all right?"

Artsy swallows, trying to settle her stomach. The streaks of light out in space still make no sense at all. But Keiran's tired. She should let him rest.

"I'm fine," Artsy assures him.

But as she watches fragments of amber play over the faces of her ward and her lover, Artsy wonders.

Reassured, Keiran closes his eyes and easily falls back into sleep.

At an outdoor cafe. Drizzling rain, but the sky is blue and sun is bright.

Piotr is there, grizzled Piotr with shaved head and pale eyes, with a pistol in his hand. Idly toying with it. Observer sips his chocolate ice-cream soda, and glances upward, at the drizzling sky.

Bright pinpoints of light. Streaking out longer and longer. Observer frowns. "It will impact across the Atlantic, probably near Madrid. The reaction will instantly kill most people within 400 miles. We've failed."

Piotr...no, it is Sarai. Sarai as he last saw her, but...her hair is constantly shifting in color. Where did he see that...?

"Why must you always be serious about your life? This is not the end of the world, is it?" Sarai asks insouciantly.

"But it is." Observer protests. "I can't..."

He is suddenly knee-deep in the stelmarsh. Raritten. He would have given anything never to have come here again. The toxic algae in the sodden marsh causes his legs to itch and sting madly. And there is an echo in the air.

second chances...second chances...

you...you understand...there is danger...

non-living world...

non-life...

humanity cannot exist serving non-life...

Meanwhile, on the bridge...

Rikard leans over the bridge railing, staring at the viewscreen.
"So, did we ever figure out why the alarms went off around 0400? Was it a malfunction or something."

Before anyone can answer, they're interrupted.
"Firkis to bridge. Something odd is happening outside of the ship. Some kind of lights. Starboard side."
"Acknowledged Ensign. Ops, starboard view."
The viewscreen changes to show the starboard side. There are indeed several amber flashes filling the view of warped space.
Rikard leans closer to the viewscreen, as if the few inches would give him a better view.
"What the frell is that?"

Colanator brings up an identical view of the starboad sensors.

I see no unexpected visual artifacts, Commander. Running sensor sweep....no unusual phenomena detected.

What are you talking about, you crazy machine, it's right there! Uh...sir.

"Fire the polymorph rifle! At me!"

"No! And stop panicking, you'll just make it worst."

"You've got to! It's my only chance!"

"It's unstable. There's no knowing what you'll turn into."

"But... but..."

"Now listen here. I'm going to try and send a distress signal. It's too late for us to do anything about this in our condition... but someone else might be able to. It's our only hope, and you have to admit it's better than the polymorph rifle."

"Go! Hurry! We're running out of time!"

Rikard looks toward Colanator.

"You can't see that? Maybe it has something to do with this Disturbed Minds place."

Possibly. Neither I nor any of the sensors on this ship detect anything unique.

Lt. Delgado spots the disturbance and becomes suddenly inspired to complete his report for HQ. Sitting at a workstation, he starts to type furiously and falls into something of a trance. He works for hours and finally snaps out of it, reviewing what he has written:

All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy. All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy. All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy. All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy. All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy. All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy. All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy. All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy. All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy. All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy. All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy. All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy.

"All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy?"

"All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy!"

All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy. All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy. All work and no play makes Johann a dull boy.

"Hoo-boy..." he mutters.

Alex is in the fighter bay, inspecting the experimental fighter that he has been given. Seeing that everything is fine, he turns to leave. Hearing a noise, he turns again just in time to see the bay doors rip away, causing everything to be blown into space. Trying to hold on to a pillar and attemtping to breathe, be notices that a strange light entering and enveloping the various fighters that somehow aren't moving. With horror, Alex realizes that they are moving, and combining to form a large robot, which starts to grab for him. The next thing Alex knows is that he's sitting in a chair at the back of the bridge, monitering things. The rest of the bridge staff look at him strangely.
Sorry... I guess I fell asleep. What happened?

No response to our hail from the Legion, sir.

Maybe they're still miffed.

Rest assured, the entire strength of Legio X Fretensis under Proconsul Gaius Julius Caesar stands behind our brothers-in-arms, the L.I.C.C.

"Looks like you fell asleep, Dupree," Rikard murmurs, staring at the floor, "We need to get away from this area of space. It is really messing with our heads. It's going to slowly drive us insane and when we've all lost control, we're all gonna die!" He chuckles a little at that thought. The chuckle turns into full out laughter.
"We're all gonna die out here. I can see the news report now. 'Contact with the LICC was lost four days ago. Searchers have discovered debris on the course that the Spidership had set to take them back to Earth. It is believed that the debris belongs to the Spideship and that the ship has been destroyed. Though teams continue to search for survivors, they believe that all hands are lost. In other news, the Tigers win the pennant and some disgruntled Gilman's employee blew the heads off of 5 former coworkers.' What a great universe we live in." Rikard can hardly keep from cracking up as he talks.
"It's over. The LICC is going to be wiped out by some crazy part of space! I love it! It seems so right. Let's not go out heroically. We'll die quietly and quickly. No one will ever know!"
And with that, Rikard laughs some more.

Maybe they should try a Clortheragen derivative? It worked in Star Trek!

That's it. Ensign Yellowshirt. Ensign?

Yellowshirt, at CONN, is fast asleep. Milkshake bolts to CONN and lifts the snoring Yellowshirt, who does not awaken, out of his chair before taking the helm himself. In a matter of seconds, full power is applied to the engines and the Spidermobile is once again on course to Earth.

Number One, get ahold of yourself. We've got to be close to the edge of this region. These dreams will be gone soon enough.

Who is Number One?

You are, Number Six.

Then, Keiran, Artsy, and Quito enter the bridge via turbolift. Keiran's face is troubled.

"Why are we not heading back to Earth?"

At the puzzled looks he gets, he continues.

"I noticed it out the viewports. We're not on the same heading. The ship is only about 5 degrees off opposite course. Look for yourself!"

As the crewmembers do, the numbers on the status window built into every console shimmer and change. According to the course heading, Keiran is right.

Meanwhile... Elsewhere in space...

Gene: "Well Arthor, what's the situation?"
Arthor: "I've tapped into the local security system. Three targets, one guarding the door, the other two sitting at a table."
Gene: "Show me"

A layout of the room appeared before Gene, and points indicating where the three bouties were located glowed.

Gene: "Thanks. Have the local police on stand-by"
Arthor: "Already done. Just waiting for your word.
Gene: "Lets go!"

The layout vanished. Gene drew back a booted foot and kicked the door in, knocking the person guarding it off of his feet. Gene's revolver was in his hand pointing at the other two.

Gene: "Freeze! Surrender yourselves and no one gets hurt!"

The man on the left reached under the table, brought up an illegal plasma rifle, and fired at the door, but Gene wasn't there.

Billy: "Wha? Where'd he go?"

Billy felt cold steel pressing against the base of his neck, the muzzle of Gene's revolver.

Gene: "The rest of you, put your hands in the air now, or the maid will have a terrible day today."

Joe and Bob, the other two men in the room exchanged quick glances and raised their hands in the air.

Gene: "Situation secure Arthor, call the police."

Gene's earring flashed in synch with Arthor's reponce

Arthor: "They're on their way."}

Everything remained still for a few moments, and then Joe and Bob quickly jumped forward. A BOOM split the air and a good piece of the table vanished. Gene was suddenly holding what looked like a combination between a sawed-off shotgun and a pistol in his left hand. A thin trail of smoke was drifting out of the left barrel. Billy cried out in terror and wet and wet himself. Joe and Bob both stopped in their tracks, their eyes wide with fear and amazement.

Gene: "I'm sorry, but quick motions make me nervous."

A few seconds later, the sound of sirens appeared, and within moments Billy, Joe, and Bob were taken away, and Gene was given a fat deposit in his account.

Some time later, Gene was back onboard his ship, cleaning the guns. An array of gun pieces, oil, and tools was spread out around him.

Arthor: "Gene, I'm sorry to interrupt, but you have an incoming call from Mr Fred Loo, of the Hugo."

Gene: "Patch him through, please."

A viewscreen across from Gene lit up. A middle-aged man appeared on the other end.

Fred: "Gene, Arthor! How nice to see you again. I've heard about your latest capture, and I wanted to congratulate you both."
Gene: "News sure travels fast around here, but thank you."
Fred: "News about you travels fast. But you have quite a reputation, and that tends to speed things up a bit."
Gene: "Indeed. Is this just a social call, or is there something else on your mind?"
Fred: "There is. The Spidership."
Gene: "I'm listening."
Fred: "I have her location and course, only 30 minutes old. And for you, a discount. 10% off of my normal price."

Gene looked down at the guns, which seem to have re-assembled themselves, and then back at the screen.

Gene: "Deal. Arthor."
Arthor: "Transfering credits now."
Fred: "Thank you very much. I'm sending Arthor the data in an encoded file. Pleasure doing buisness with you."

How could this have happened? This really is messing with our minds. I'm resetting course to--

Just then, Milkshake notices something odd. Artsy's ring, so riskily and recently recovered, is not on her hand. Granted, she had been so long without her ring that he became used to it, but...he looks around. At the bridge consoles, the only others on the bridge besides Morgan, Artsy and Quito are Quantum Man, Tacquitoboy, Ze French Knight, Mr. Obvious, and in his just-vacated captain's chair, Marshal Ancine, grinning voraciously at him. Milkshake puts his hands to his head.

Aigh...not real.

"Sir?"

Yellowshirt is speaking, not sleeping, sitting at his normal position at Conn. Milkshake is in his command chair. Morgan and Artsy are nowhere to be seen. And a quick check of his status window reveals they are direct on course to Earth. With a sickening feeling, Milkshake wonders if this, too, is a dream.

We've got to get out of here. I've had it with all these weird and disturbing dreams which remind me of Animal Farm.

If we concentrate, I'm sure we'll be able to tell what's real and what's fake.

Engineering is in chaos. The deck rumbles under Delgado's feet and sparks scorch the air.

"Coolant leak! We have a coolant leak!" he yells as the bulkhead starts to drop from the celing. He spots a pair of wounded yellowshirts and pulls them to their feet, throwing them under the bulkhead and then diving under it at the last second...

...until he finds himself on the bridge, having dove from out of the turbolift. He rolls to a stop and gets up, slightly chagrined.

"Ah, um... begging your pardon, sir."

Milkshake shakes his head.

It's no problem, Lieutenant. We're going to have to deal with this in a different way. Colanator.

Colanator grinds up.

Yes, Captain?

Colanator, have you been affected at all by the mental conditions this region of space seems to exert on the mind?

Not at all, Captain. I have sensed absolutely nothing out of the ordinary in the past 35 hours, and the ship's sensors bear out that finding.

Very good. You will take sole command of this ship until these conditions abate. Your standing order: Get us to Earth, safely.

Colanator nods.

I understand, sir.

Yellowshirt is already out of his chair by the time Colanator replies.

"Sir, is this safe? Colanator has taken control of the Terran system. We may be the last bit of human power left he doesn't have."

Milkshake replies confidently.

I built him, Ensign, and I trust him. This huge mess will have to be sorted out, when we return to Earth, but for now it's much more dangerous that we remain on the bridge in this state.

Milkshake addresses the ceiling.

All hands, this is the Captain. All nonessential personnel are to stand down until further notice. Engineering and the Main Bridge are to be evacuated immediately. All senior officers on duty will report to Deck Ten, Section Z Forward.

Milkshake heads to the turbolift.

Everybody, let's go have a drink. We can't cause any trouble down there.

Everybody, let's go have a drink. We can't cause any trouble down there.

Famous last words.

"Get ahold of myself? You want me to get ahold of myself? You can't even get ahold of yourself. And that means the ship doesn't have her captain. And without her captain, we're screwed. We are so screwed." Rikard's leaning over the railing again, staring at the floor.
"He's right you know," he hears himself say. Not himself, just someone who sounds exactly like him. Standing next to him is his yellow haired, slightly crazed twin, the crazed shoulder. At the sight of him, Rikard begins to laugh again.
"You're on the bridge, what are you doing on the bridge?" Rikard asks, amused.
"I think that you should listen to your CO, John," the figure continues, "I'm pretty sure he's not happy seeing his XO acting like this."
"Oh, it's all about Milkshake now, is it?" Rikard replies, "Besides, you're crazed, shouldn't you be happy that I'm cracking up too? We can relate to each other now!"
Com-Mad-ner Rikard shakes his head. "I don't think this mind has room for two psychos."
"I guess you're right," Rikard says, pulling his gun, "Time for you to go." Rikard has failed to notice that the bridge crew have been watching him the entire time. When he pulls his pistol, many duck and scramble to get out of the way.
"Look at what you're doing!" the shoulder yells at him, "You're pointing a gun at a figure only you can see. I'm not even here, remember?"
"There's only one way to find out, isn't there?" Rikard says. He pulls the trigger. The phaser pistol's beam shoots out, through the shoulder figure, and into the bulkhead past them. Rikard lowers his phaser, staring at the bulkhead. The figure is no longer standing there.
"Told ya," he hears the shoulder say.
Rikard sighs. "Frell."

A firm grip pulls the phaser out of Rikard's hand.

Come on, Number One. Don't let it get to you. Follow Pete's advice: Concentrate on what's real.

But what is real?

Commander Milkshake was suddenly aware of the sickening sensation of Adon's sword in his gut.

I'm sorry, my friend. But you people bore me.

And then, Milkshake was hunched over gasping for breath, but unharmed. Adon himself was nowhere to be seen.

A familiar figure appears on the bridge in front of Insane.

And how do you know what you're seeing at all?

Insane is surrounded by a lavender nimbus and feels as if he's spread out all over the bridge.

Or that you're there at all?

The nimbus, and what seemed to be Quantum Man vanished. Insane is in the exact same place as he was before.

Delgado watches the growing hysteria. He seems to be unaffected until a trio of redshirts appears before him, all with ghastly injuries.

"Why didn't you save us?" they wail in unison. "Why didn't you save us?"

One of the phantoms reaches for Delgado's saber, and Delgado jerks back, shattering the illusion. He rubs his face as Milkshake doubles over. Seeing the Commander gasp for breath gives Delgado an idea. He edges over to a console and accesses the transporters, hoping to beam everyone off the bridge over to Zen Forward...

Lieutenant, you are attempting to beam the bridge crew into deep space. Do you realize what you are doing?

Colanator locks out Delgado's console. Milkshake straightens up, shakes his head, and one by one, pulls the bridge crew bodily into the turbolift. When all are in, despite their visions of horrors, he speaks.

Zen Forward.

With everyone in the turbolift, it's also a little crowded. With so many people in the turbolift, all seemingly daydreaming, it's a little loud. Even over the noise, Rikard can hear one particular voice.
"Ah, don't you just love the chaos?" Com-Mad-ner asks.
"Oh, do you never SHUT UP!!!!" Rikard shouts at his shoulder. This effectively, but very temporarily, quiets the turbolift. Everyone starts up again.
"You've gotta admit, this is a little fun," the shoulder says, "Not knowing what to believe. Wondering if you're asleep or awake. Or both."
Rikard attempts to ignore his shoulder and looks around the turbolift. He looks back to see Artsy and Keiran together, being very passionate toward each other at that moment. When they notice him staring, they break off the kissing and both turn toward him. And then they laugh at him. Hysterically. Rikard slowly turns around. When he looks back, he realizes that neither were in the turbolift.
"Um, okay," he says to no one in particular. But seeing Keiran had reminded him of someting.
"Commander," Rikard says to Milkshake, "Did you find out just how off course we are? You know, after Obsy came up and pointed it out?"

We weren't. Or at least, I'm guessing we weren't. At any rate, Colanator will keep us on the right course.

"Deep space?" Delgado mutters, "Good thing Colanator was on the ball."

To his horror, Insane sees a mad axe-murderer in the turbolift with them all! No-one else seems to see him, but with one swing he lunges his axe between Milkshake's helmet and back-armor. The Commander falls to the floor.

But as Insane closes his eyes, he realises something... all his senses tell him that the axe-murderer is just as real as anyone else on the turbolift... except one. Some sort of sixth-sense, perhaps left over from his days as a Jedi, does not register the crazed man. Instead of panicking, he lets the axe hit his neck, feeling no pain as it does so. The hallucination, having been proved incorporeal, vanishes, and Commander Milkshake appears unharmed.

Shortly thereafter...

Milkshake is helmetless, bleary-eyed, and slouched over the bar at Zen Forward with the rest of the senior staff. He downs a small glass of something bright orange; several empty glasses like it litter the bar from end to end.

Ugh...that hits it, I suppose. Bartender, another one.

There is no bartender, indeed, apart from the bridge and engineering crew, the lounge is empty.

Right. Computer, a double Spicer Drop, chilled.

Another drink materializes on a replicator pad. Milkshake quickly downs it, staring into the glass morosely.

I'm getting quickly drunk on duty. Something I've never ever done. Abandoning my post, ordering all of you to do the same. Let me ask you guys...don't tell the brass about this. Hmm...somehow the liquor is making me feel better. I'm intoxicated...but I don't feel crazy any more. Or do I?

Nursing a Black Hole, Delgado pipes up.

"Are we sure it's this area of space that's screwing us up? We were traveling at our top speed for a while before we stopped, and we've been at it again for a while... just how big is this area of space? Shouldn't someone have known about it before hand?"

Probably, but this-- pretty much this whole area is blank on the charts. We're on the edge of properly exploo-explod...space we know about. Time to switch to beer, looks like.

Milkshake tosses his empty glass over his shoulder, where it fails to break on the deck.

"Well, there's a first time for everything," Rikard poors himself a small glass of a bright greenish liquid and downs it, "And I'd say this is one of those situations, Cap." Rikard grabs a bottle with amber liquid in it and pours himself a glass.
"Here's to disturbed minds." He drinks.

"Any idea how long i'll take to get out of here?" Rikard asks


Author's Note: that should be "pours" in the last post, not "poors"

Milkshake swirls his Peanut Creek Pale Ale in thought, spilling a good deal of it.

I think we'll be hittin' the Sawfeld Belt in a few hours. I'm not lookin' forward to it, the splace is usally crawling with pirate spacers with radya-...radiation-burnt sensors, so they can't easily tell between a starshup and a nice little freighter. We'll pass the subsbace beacons any time now, tho.

The interstellar passenger liner, the Midsummer Night's Queen was cruising through the Sawfeld Belt, on the edge of charted space. Onboard the passenger liner, Gene Windward sat in the lounge. One of his fellow passengers was spewing out all sorts of facts and information about his job, as well as his opinions as what was going on throughout the galaxy. Gene smiled, nodded, and sipped his drink, but his mind was elsewhere.

He was reviewing the data on the Spidership's crew and capacities. Some of it public knowlage, others aquired by... less legitamate means.

Arthor: "I'm sorry to interrupt you Gene, but the ship is approaching the drop-off point."

Gene: "Thanks, I'm on my way."

Passenger: "...increasing our growth by 47% over the last five years. Isn't that just unbelievable?"

Gene stood up and patted the man on the shoulder.

Gene: "Yes it is. But you know what? If I had your job... I'd kill myself. Wait here, I'll see if I can dig up a blaster."

Gene walked out of the lounge and made his way to the liner's hanger.

Arthor: "Gene, that wasn't very nice."
Gene: "I know, but people in the telemarketer industry just rub me the wrong way.

Gene entered the hanger and boarded Arthor. The small ship exited the much larger ship and held its position just inside the warp field. And the proper moment, Arthor boosted his own warp engine to match the Midsummer Night's Queen's field and banked away before slowing to a safer speed.

Gene: "In two hours, we'll meet the Spidership and have a big, fat bounty in our pocket."

Soon Butrfli and Jackson enter Zen Forward and join the small group.
Butrfli: I just had to get away from Sickbay. Jackson decided to accompany me.
Jackson: We've both been seeing strange th...
As Jackson is talking, he glances at a group of Redshirts at a table near the back. They glance back, and to his horror, they all take the shape of his foes from the past. One looks like Professor Negative, another looks like a Whyte Kastle, a third looks like Larry the Squid from his old days of crime fighting, and the last begins changing into Darth Terror. Jackson stands up, activates his weapons, and begins firing. As he aims and fires at the last one, the redshirt becomes a redshirt again. As he looks around, he notices that everbody else in the place has hidden under tables and behind the bar. He also sees the remains of the redshirts and their table.
This... isn't a dream, is it? I'm fully awake, but seeing things... When redshirts begin looking like your past foes, it's time for a drink.

"Geez, buddy, Jack, calm down man," Rikard slurs. He slowly stands and stumbles to Jackson, throwing his arm around his former captain's shoulder.
"Now, let's just turn these off and take these away." He deactivates the weapons on Jackson's suit and throws the ones he was holding to the wall at the other side of the room.
"Now, just sit down and relax. We'll get you a cold one. And no more redshirts have to die. That's bad man. That's bad. hic." At that, Rikard begins laughing again before stumbling back to his seat.

The Spidership recieved a distress call.

This is the Ragnarok. I was attacked by pirates and driven into this uncharted space. I have suffered multiple hull breaches. Main and auxilary power is offline. Emergency battery power is failing. To any ship within the sound of my voice, please assist.

Colanator noticed that the origin of the distress call was less than two degrees to port from the ship's current heading.

In the curved viewports in Zen Forward, the "plain old black" view of warp space suddenly explodes with stars as the ship drops to sublight speeds. Milkshake, now fairly uncaring what he is drinking, notices with a lurch. After several attempts, he manages to open a comlink to the bridge.

Milkshake to birdge. What's going on?

Captain, we have recieved a distress call from a vessel less than 2,000 kilometers away. I thought it within acceptable parameters to render assistance. I am currently preparing to tractor the vessel into the Main Shuttlebay. We should be underway again within 4.5 minutes.

Milkshake ponders this a bit.

S'allright. Invitem on down here, whydoncha! Llhave a good time, yup.

...Yes, Captain.

"Mikshake, seer," Rikard says, laughing a little, "Do ya think them seein' us like this'll in here with this and stuff is super decision? I mean, what if they're mean? I don't like mean people." He then lapses into silence, staring at the glass that he holds.

Who'ss mean round here, Joshie? C'mon, we'll have greatime, we got the likker, we got sandwishes, I think. Wheres the sandwishes, I know we had some. Oh, theresh them, under Aidon. Aidon's sleeping, roll him off the sandwishes. Strong fella, candt hold his likker.

"Seer, Aidon's not here."

You're right... Adon's not here anymore

Adon's head begins spinning completely around, spitting green pea soup everywhere.

Jackson looks at the drunken Captain and first officer.
As former captain, do you want me to handle this?

"Oh, man, ah, man, you're right seer. There he is, throwing up. I'm dumb." He turns to Jackson.
"You fit for duty, Jack?"

Just then, the stars fade to black warp space again, indicating a sucessful rescue.

Jackson: Havn't taken a drink yet, and I'll entertain them until you get sober again. Butrfli!
Butrfli: Yes?
Jackson: Do you have any way to get them back to sobriety?
Butrfli: Medically or magically?
Jackson: Which way is faster?
Butrfli: Well, looking at their condition, magic should be faster... I can get them sober and without a hangover in about half an hour.
Jackson: Good. Steve, Butrfli's going to sober you and Rikard up. When you're ready, I'll be with our guests.
With that, Jackson goes to the shuttle bay to meet their guests, while Butrfli begins chanting and waving her staff at the drunken officers.

Naw naw naw, Butterfly, yer doin' it all wrong. I saw this done in a show on Rixis...Rigez...lookie.

Milkshake drunkenly reaches for Butrfli's staff, lunges forward uncertainly, slips on a patch of pea soup, just barely misses Butrfli on the way down, and finally hits the floor like a ton of blue crysteel bricks. Unfortunately, he lands directly on top of Butrfli's staff, which is crushed to bits underneath the heavily-armored commanding officer.

Ung...sory...sorry...I'll get a new one...

Now, we need to keep our heads... drinking could just make the hallucinations worse.

He trips on an overturned chair, and, in a series of psychedelic colors, flies across the mess hall and into a large cask of alcohol.

He slowly emerges from it, a distinct change in his appearance and voice

Anna notherthing, I'm not going to take no more ordersshz from no giant blue kin tans... that's meaning you Mander Kilshake... Kander mikshlock... he points vaguely in Milkshake's direction, then gives up and lets his hand flop and that goes for you too, whatsisname... yourname. (pointing at a redshirt)

Now, how do I get outta hiss thing?

he gets to his feet and stumbles out of the cask, tipping it over behind him and spilling its contents all over the Mess Hall floor

Lt. Delgado just plain passes out. It's not really good T.V. He just falls down.

No, really.

Really.

The hatch on the underside of a very battered and scarred civilian light frieghter opened and Gene dropped out. He quickly spun around aiming the double-pistol and revolver in practically every direction possible. Satisfied that there was no immediate threat, he holstered the guns and walked over to a nearby console. He pulled out a length of cable and hooked it into the console.

Gene: "Scanning the main computer. Where's the crew?"

Arthor: "Sensors detect that they have gathered in the forward part of the ship. The ship's layout identifies it as Zen Forward. I'm detecting Colanator's signature approaching us. ETA, 45 seconds."

Gene: "Odd... I'm not finding the Colanator program in here. The computer is still free. You would think he would have taken the ship over like he did the rest of the Earth."

Arthor: "And what of the source code?"

Gene: "Either it's heavily encrypted, isolated, or just not here."

Butrfli looks down at the shattered remains of her staff and then at Milkshake.
You realize that it was my best staff, don't you? I have a few more in the Lucy in the Sky, but I've had this staff since I was very young...
As Butrfli berates Milkshake, Insane does his cask emptying trick, and some of the liquid lands in Butrfli's mouth. Swallowing, a look of happiness appears on her face.
What waz I talkin' 'bout again? Oh well, I'll just have a drink or two...
Meahwhile, Jackson has reached the Shuttlebay, curiously watching the action.
Excuse me gentlemen, may I help you?

Rikard has stumbled to Insane, trying to help the lieutenant walk back to the nearby tables.

"Dude, that girl cannot hole her liquor."

Girl? Whaddarya talkin' about, John. Josh. Thingy. I'm ain't no girl!

(he punches at Rikard, spins around as he tries to bring his fist into contact with him, and falls over)

Tha' wuz a concentrated casket of...what'ver it waz... also, I tend to get drunk fairly easily... tha's what my staff was for... to get me sob...stob...undrunk. An' you broke it, blue boy!
Butrfli begins drunkenly chanting and vaguely pointing towards Milkshake. When she finishes, it begins to rain milkshakes and small potted plants.
Whoopsy.. tha's that wrong spell. Give me another drink!

Uh...feel pretty smashed now. Y'know...I ain't bin dreamers...dreaming forra while now. That the drink, or are we outta that space thing?

The doors to the hanger opened and Colanator entered.

Colanator: "Welcome to the..."

Gene spun, pulled a pistol, and fired. The round hit Colanator and an EMP discharged, temporarily knocking him out. Gene shook his head and and blinked a few times. Then he walked up to Colanator's innert form and plugged the wire he was using to connect to the console into Colanator.

Gene: "The firewall's holding, but he doesn't have the source code on him either. Time to check out Milkshake."

Gene retrieved the wire and left the hanger. A few moments later, Colanator revived. He remembered entering the hanger, and then blank for a few minutes until now.

The phrase wouldn't stop pounding through his head.

Return to glory.

Return to glory.

Return to glory.

It's just as it was, all those uncounted years ago. His mind, drifting, shrinking, lost. His body being controlled by another being, another conciousness, more powerful, more forceful, more strident. He was not moving of his own accord. He was not breathing of his own will. He was not speaking his own thoughts. And the desperation came flooding back.

Return to glory.

Return to glory.

Return to glory.

He fought, struggled, clawed and screamed, but this time, there was no one there to help him. No one there to stop the Other. No one there to help him reclaim his own body. His senses finally faded away, and the silence was deafening. He repeated the old maxim to himself. He thought, therefore he still was. He still survived. But thinking was becoming harder, and a spike of mortal fear pierced him. Without thought...he was gone...

Return to glory.

Return to--

!!

Keiran woke up on the couch, shuddering, sweating. He was in command, and the relief was overwhelming. He probed his mind for the Other, but He was silent, not thinking, sleeping. Or was he?

Artsy and Quito were gone...where? The amber sparkles shined in through the viewports, and all concern for anyone else left Keiran's mind. He got up, fled Artsy's quarters, raced down the corridor. He needed to find somewhere safe, calming, to collect himself. He thought he knew where.

Gene was carefully making his way though the corridor towards the turbolift. So far, no alarms had sounded, and no one had come to investigate. So far, so good.

Gene paused at the turbolift and hit the 'call' button. The doors opened, and Gene carefully stepped inside.

Chief Hararararu: "Gene, I'm glad you're here. I want you to meet someone."

Gene spun around rapidly. He wasn't in the turbolift, he was in his old police station back home. He saw his old police chief leaning against the doorway to his little office area, as a much younger, and more innocent looking version of himself stood up at his desk.

Chief Hararararu: "Gene Windward, meet your new partner, Detective Feer."

Arthor: "GENE!!!"

Gene blinked. He was standing in the turbolift.

Arthor: "Gene, is anything wrong?"

Gene: "What... what just happened?"

"Pe-, Peta, PD, dude, be calm man. I din't call you a girl, I was talking about her, Butter, Butter, you know, Jack's wife. The winged one. Butrfli." After helping Insane grab a nearby seat, Rikard fumbles for his communicator. It takes a few seconds, but he finally remembers how to activate it.
"Rikard to Jackey, yo buddy, what's goin' on? You found who you were looking for yet? Jack?"

Zzap!

A blueshirt's very interesting nightmare suddenly ends when the unfortunate crewman is hit and stunned by a phaser blast.

"Very good. That's #123. Take him to the stasis room."

"Yes, my dear brother. Where are you going now?"

"Ten Forward. Prepare a few accomodations for the main staff."

For some reason, every fighter pilot on the Spidership was sleping like a baby in the Pilot's Lounge.

...the reason for this unusual behavior was an opened anaesthezine canister.

What if we weren't wondering?

They've got a Ten Forward now as well as a Zen Forward?

Then you should by some L.I.C.C. merchandise! For example here we have the Talking Milkshake Clock that doesn't only tell you the time but also provides you with alcohol-free softdrinks too! Cheers!

If you weren't wondering, then the reason for the unusual behavior was sloth and general laziness.

I...hafta say...feelin' better in one way is not in anudder. Room's spinning...but no dreams...

Gene stepped out of the turbolift and made his way down the corridor towards Zen Forward. He heard a few crew members approaching and quickly ducked behind a convient protrusion from the wall.

The pair passed by without noticing him. Gene blinked in supprise since the two appeared to be drunk, staggering down the corridor.

Dt. Feer: "Thanks for the save on that last case, Gene."

Dt. Windward: "That's why we work in pairs. You watch my back, and I watch yours."

Dt. Feer: "To show my appreciation, I have something for you."

Gene watched as his younger self opened a package. Inside were a pair of large, silver revolvers. Both were nearly identical. The barrel lined up with the bottem of the cylinder, and along the top where the barrel would normally be located was an odd looking box.

Dt. Feer: "You're as close to a gunslinger as you can get around here, man. I want you to have these."

Dt. Windward: "They're beautiful. Where did you get them?"

Feer smiled.
Dt Feer: "I made them."

Gene's hand was shaking alittle. Gene drew his revolver and looked at it. It was worn and nicked here and there, but it was definately the same gun. And its mate was still long gone.

Gene: "Arthor, are you there?"

No responce. He wondered if the EMP was responsible for these odd flashbacks or if it was something else. The EMP definately had interfered with his main communicator. The other one worked fine, but he didn't want to use that unless it was an emergency.

He took a deep breath to steady himself and stepped out of hiding.

Look...I know that guy. Jeans Winder. What are you doing ere?

Milkshake slouches to his feet to greet the new arrival.

Gene: "Commander. I'm sorry to intrude but.."

Gene drew the revolver and aimed it at Milkshake. The room went still, except for a redshirt who had too much to drink and passed out.

Gene: "I need..."
Dt. Feer: "... to show you something."

Gene shook his head. His right hand started shaking. ...Barely.

Gene: "I'm here for Colanator's source code. The situation on Earth has become very grim and the government has put out a bounty on it."

The shaking stopped. Most of the crew was too smashed to notice it anyway.

Gene: "I'e also been authorized to bring you back as well, if you refuse to surrender the code. You are his creator after all, and you should know how to stop him."

Milkshake stares in silence. And Milkshake swallows. And Milkshake blinks his eyes.

Then, Milkshake laughs racously.

Great joke, gray joker. Haaa! Here, haba beer.

Off-balance once again, Milkshake falls behind the bar.

Before Milkshake hit the floor, Gene was on the other side of the bar. Milkshake slowly climbed back to his feet and pushed a mug of beer Gene's way.

Gene's revolver twitched slightly to the side and fired. The mug exploded in a spray of glass shards and beer. The sound of the shot woke the unconscious redshirt up. He sat up in supprise at the sound of the gunshot. Unfortunately, he had somehow rolled under the table and as he sat up, he cracked his head on the underside before falling back down, out for the count. No one noticed this little display, expect for Gene, who reguarded him as a non-threat.

Gene: "This is no joke."
Dt. Feer: "This is the case that will make or break your career."

Gene and Milkshake were standing in Gene's old police headquarters. He watched in horror as Detective Feer and his younger self quickly gathered their things, the twin revolvers included, and left the room. A flash of horror passed over his face as he realized what day he was witnessing. Then, they were back in Zen Forward with the drunken crew watching the show.

Gene: "Come with me."

Gene roughly grabbed Milkshake's arm with his left hand and manhandled him towards the door. He paused once they were on the other side and addressed the room at large.

Gene: "Don't follow us. It would be bad for everyone involved."

Gene manages to turn back to his captive, only to find the angered Milkshake, drawing some reserves of his Marine training out of wherever the quantity of alcohol washed them, taking a ragged swing at his head with his armored glove. Despite the commander's inebriation, he connects...

When they have turned, Rikard dives across the tables toward the weapons against the wall. At least, that was the plan. He misses, instead slammming his shins into the table and tumbling over it. He hits the ground hard on the other side of the table and rolls against the wall. Finally, on his back, he looks for a pistol, finds one, and grabs it, standing up.

"That ain't cool, man," Rikard says, stumbling a little and pointing the pistol across the room. He's confused when he doesn't see anyone standing at the door. He realizes that they're actually standing at the door on the other side of the room, the door nearby Rikard. He spins to see Milkshake punching Gene. The room begins swaying, at least from the commander's perspective, and he can barely keep his balance, or his aim.

Just then, Jackson rushes into the room, his weapons trained on Gene.
I arrived in time to see you exit the shuttlebay in a hurry. Once I found Colantor, I only had to follow you. So, what are you doing on this ship?
Alex: Jacky ole' buddy! C'here an have a drink!
Maybe I should check that ship that... somebody let me drive... may'be tezst it or somethin'...

Gene stumbles and starts to fall as several crewmembers draw and aim weapons. Just before Gene hits the floor, he fires and hits the door controls, which vaporize in a cloud of sparks. The doors automatically slide shut and refuse to open with the automated controls destroyed.

Milkshake, meanwhile falls over after throwing his balance off with the punch. Gene slowly gets to his feet, plants a boot on Milkshake's shoulders, holsters the gun, and places his hand on the side of his head, covering a small cut. He taps the stud in his right ear with his finger.

Gene: "Owww. Arthor, can you read me?"
Arthor: "Yes. Are you OK, Gene?"
Gene: "I've been better. Look, I want you to access the ship's security programs. Lock all the doors around me. And access their medical supply database. See if they have anything to help with a hangover and a small cut."
Arthor: "I'm on it."

Gene taps the stud again, and pulls a pair of restraints out from under his coat. He slapped them over Milkshake's wrists and hauled him roughly to his feet.

Gene: "I hoped that it wouldn't have to come to this."

"Jackson, buddy!" Rikard says, waving his gun at the door, "Vape 'em! Vape the doors! And get Milky back!" Fortunately, the Zen Forward doors hadn't been designed to hold out to any prolonged attacks though they did have a strong forcefield system.

The room sways even more now and it becomes increasingly difficult for Rikard to focus or even stay conscioius.

Right!
Jackson presses a button on his gauntlet, and a small wormhole appears. Reaching inside, Jackson pulls out a small bottle with a bunch of pills inside. He gives a pill to Butrfli, who sobers instantly.
Butrfli, blow those doors!
Butrfli: My pleasure.
With that, Butrfli chants and points to the doors, which open with force. As the rush into the next room, Jackson tossed the bottle to Rikard.
Here! Instant soberity pills. Something we picked up while traveling.
\i[Inside the doorway, Jackson and Butrfli watch Gene do his thing. Butrfli begins chanting again, and Gene begins stiffing up. He is soon immoble.}
A body imparement spell. It should were off soon...
Jackson: Just long enough to get him to the brig.

Rikard tries to catch the bottle, but they fly on by. His hand continues to waver.
"Sorry, Jackson, I don' think I can...." Rikard drops the phaser pistol and falls to the ground, passed out.

Jadlad stumbles away from the table he was sharing with two female Lieutenants from the pseudoscience department.

Oh, for da love of...just when da two of 'em were gonna invite me up..Hic!..ta their quar...quart..HIC!..room, all dis..stuff...happens.

Jadlad tries to balance himself on the counter, misses repeatedly and then falls onto the floor.

I'M O...KAY! Hehehehehehehehe!

Almost to his goal, Morgan passes several labs, two storage rooms, one lavatory, rounds a turn in the corridor, and sees one determined and bleeding bounty hunter bodily hauling one very mussed and restrained commanding officer.

"Windward! What are you doing?" Morgan demands.

Gene: "I'm collecting a bounty. Unfortunately, the commander is being somewhat difficult."

Gene stopped at sickbay and gestured with his revolver.

Gene: "Inside. Now."

The entered sickbay. Once inside, Holodoc activated and went into his usual introduction speech. Gene ignored him and backed up to sickbay's main computer interface while keeping the gun trained on both of them. He got to the panel and plugged the cord he had been using the entire trip into it.

Holodoc: "Excuse me, but what are you... V-V-Virus Det-t-t-t-tected. S-s-s-s-ystem Er-r-r-r-ror."
The holodoc vanished and then restarted.
Gene: "The commander needs something to sober him up quickly. Deal with it. Computer, engage all door locks on this deck, and restrain Commander Milkshake once the Holodoc is finished."

The computer beeped, and the Holodoc prepaired a hypospray for Milkshake.

Gene: "I'm here for Colanator's source code, Morgan. And the commander, if deemed nessessary. If he cooperated and gives me the code without difficulty, then I will let him go with no ill feelings towards him, although I doubt the feeling will be mutual. I don't know if you've heard, but the Earth needs that code, and all attepts to retrieve it so far have been unsuccessful. So they put a bounty on it."
Gene paused.
Gene: "You, on the other hand, are an unexpected bonus."

Morgan carefully and silently analyzes the situation, several courses of action going through his mind. Finally he decides.

Immediate threat. Some time remains. One other involved, not free to move. Talk.

"I am? Why, Windward?" Morgan casually asks, not moving a muscle, yet preparing for action in his mind.

"I need the Power." He speaks to The Other. "Wake up, I need the Power. WAKE UP."

There is no response.

Because there is a bounty out on you as well.

Milkshake begins to stir as the effects of the alcohol wear off. However, a forcefield around his bio-bed prevents him from moving very far. The holodoc picks up a dermal-regenerator and begins healing the wound on Gene's head without blocking his view of either Morgan or Milkshake.

Your file says that you have traveled back in time several times, and your actions in the past may have had some unforseen consequences. The bounty was posed by the Temporal Investigations department of the TBI.

A viewscreen near Morgan lit up and displayed the official bounty notice, with everything in order.

Morgan sighs.

"That should have been fixed already. No matter. Windward, you're a clever fellow, but you should know you can't escape this ship. I imagine Colanator has already taken more than enough steps to prevent you from leaving, with or without captives, and sooner or later the mental disturbances in this area of space will render you vulnerable."

As the spell begins to wear off, "gene" begins to change shape, turns into a puddle of ooze, and vaporizes. Jackson looks on disppointed.
A quick clone shapeshifter. He's clever, very clever. What are we, the Keystone Kops all of a sudden?
Jackson picks up the bottle, opens it, and gives pills to the other drunken officers.
Come on, we need to find the others.

Gene: "Maybe they will, maybe they won't. In any case, Commander Milkshake is awake."

Gene unplugged the cable and walked over to Commander Milkshake's biobed.

Gene: "Commander... I want you to give me Colanator's source code."

Dt. Windward: "What are you doing?"
Dt. Feer: "I want you to join me. Your skills are quite impressive, if I do say so myself.

Feer and Windward had intercepted an interplanetary transport ship that was believed to be the headquarters for a major crime syndicate. Dt. Feer was right about the crime syndicate. What he didn't mention was the guy running it.

Dt. Windward: "I can't let you do this. I'm sorry."
Gene drew both revolvers. Even then, he was fast on the draw. But Feer was faster, almost inhumanly so.
Dt. Feer: "So am I..."
And Feer fired.

Gene realized that his right hand had started that slight shaking again. He focused his willpower in stopping it.

Gene: "Commander... the code."

Milkshake clears his throat.

No.

By way of clarification...

And you probably won't find it, either. Your taking control of the Sickbay computer is very clever, but I don't store the code in the ship's computer. Too risky. You can tear this ship apart, but I don't believe you'll find it.

Artsy rubs both hands across her eyes, then leans her face into her palms, elbows braced on knees. The darkness is a welcome relief.

But this task she has set herself is coming to seem impossible.

That sends an icy chill through her, more than the artist would ever want to admit. She can feel the flashes of light still playing across her skin, even without sight. And still there is no pattern to them, not even a randomly occuring coincidence, repeated.

This cannot be. But she has been watching them for some time, through the viewport in her quarters, and still she cannot fathom what is going on.

Nor even stomach the sight, now--when Artsy takes her hands from her face and looks up, the flashes make her dizzy. Wisps of hair around her face edge themselves with nauseous pale green.

Fine. Artsy rises abruptly and heads into the other room. Kieran and Quito are both gone. She stands for a moment, unsure, left fingers nervously twisting the clear band of her ring. Then she takes a deep breath (which settles her roiling greenish-blue to a more determined greenish-purple), and heads out into the corridor.

There is one person aboard who might be able to help her figure this out. Seeker? she thinks, as loudly as she can.

Gene: "We shall see, won't we..."

Feer's shot hit the revolver in Windward's left hand. The revolver exploded, sending blasted pieces of the gun into his hand, arm, and torso. The force of the blow spun Windward completely around before he crashed in pain on the floor. By some miricle, he had managed to hang on to the other gun.

Dt. Feer: "You had such potential, Gene."
He kicked Windward in the torso.
Dt. Feer: "Goodbye, Detective Windward."
He turned and walked away. His cronies fell in step behind him.

Gene drew his revolver and aimed it at Feer's retreating head.
Gene: "Hold it!"
Feer ignored him.
Gene fired.

The sound of a nearby display exploding out snapped Gene out of it. He stared, almost in amazement at the large hole in the piece of equipment. Then he flipped a switch, and the gun broke open and sent all of the empty shell casings into the air. He caught the one unfired bullet and loaded it back in before producing 5 more bullets and loaded them as well before stapping the gun closed with a flick of the wrist.

Gene: "We're leaving. Doctor, bring me two hoverchairs."

A slight clink. Windward cranes his head and is seized by Milkshake, the commander's hands free and uncovered. Milkshake pushes the pistol out of the way just long enough to force Windward down against a biobed, with the bounty hunter's gun hand down underneath his back, and Milkshake's arm across Windward's larynx. Windward can just see Milkshake's two empty gauntlets, still held together with his restraints, on the bed beside him.

Morgan, get me a sedative, quick.

The leather wrappings on Gene's left arm snapped and fell off, revealing metal. His hand dropped down and back, then grabbed a small handle. Out of the end of the arm, a small metal tube extended. Gene's swung his arm around and the hand pulled the trigger. A shot rang out from the end of his arm. Gene moved the barrel of the gun against Milkshake's head.

Gene: "Release me, or become very lightheaded."

Milkshake eases off, allowing Windward to get up.

Thank you.

Gene's arm returns back to a normal appearance. He begins stapping the leather wrappings back up.

I would like to collect my bounty with as little violence as possible.

The Holodoc appeared with a pair of hoverchairs.

We are both officers and gentlemen in a manner of speaking, are we not? A truce, perhaps...

He gestured towards the chairs.

We can walk, like gentlemen, towards your quarters, with no more tricks. Or both of you can ride, bound and gagged. What do you choose?

Morgan continues to probe his mind for the presence of the Sorceror. Without the Sorceror's inherent power, Morgan's own supernatural abilities are painfully limited. There is still only "silence", and the solitude that Morgan has so long craved for in his own mind now only frightens him. Still, he steels himself and nods to Windward.

"We will walk."

Artsy half-runs through the empty corridors of the Spidership. Vaguely she wonders where everyone else is. There don't even seem to be any obligatory redshirts wandering the halls. But even without viewports she can feel the influence of the amber light, and it moves her on, more quickly now.

"Artsy!" The call from behind her is Kieran's.

She whirls around, intent mauve suddenly threaded with hopeful yellow--

--but the man standing in the corridor isn't Keiran. His face is sharp, noble, but very cold, and he is utterly a stranger.

Artsy takes a step back.

"Artsy, where are you headed in such a hurry?" The teasing voice is still Keiran's, but coming out of that other mouth it unnerves Artsy almost completely. She stumbles back against the wall--

--and is facing an empty corridor.

Flushing orange with anger at herself for falling for another (this time oddly waking) dream, Artsy turns again and begins to run in earnest.

Water is wet. And here he is treading in it. At least, he thinks it's water. It doesn't take him long to realize that it's not though. For one thing, it's yellow. Well, yellowish. And foamy. And the smell is unmistakable. Rikard realizes that what he's really treading in is an ocean of beer. And there's no land in sight. Before he has a chance really take in that he's treading beer, he sees a hump on the horizon. A hump in the ocean. And it's getting bigger. It doesn't take him long to realize that it's a whale.

"What's with me and whale?" As the whale gets closer, it lifts its head up and opens its mouth wide. The whale is huge, larger than any whale Rikard has ever seen, not that he's seen many whales. And it's animated. The whale continues toward Rikard. He tries to swim away, but the whale is much faster. Rikard is swallowed into the darkness. As soon as the black takes him, however, a light breaks through the darkness. In fact, several lights interrupt the perfect black. Rikard can see that he's inside the whale now, much like Gepetto had been at one point. The light is provided by several torches hanging on the inside "walls" of the whale's body. And it's also full of ants. Ants the size of dogs. Walking on only two of their six legs. And they're wearing sombreros. Suddenly, music begins playing, though from where Rikard cannot figure out. The ants cheer and begin talking, singing, and dancing. In the large crowd of ants, Rikard spots a familiar face. It should be familiar, since it's his.
"Isn't this great!?!?" Com-Mad-ner Rikard yells.
"Is this what I dream about when I'm drunk?" Rikard asks.
"Beats me, man," the shoulder replies, "I guess your little plan didn't work after all. Too bad. Forget about it though, let's party!!!" The shoulder figure goes back into the crowd, leaving Rikard behind. He just stands, dumbfounded, until an ant walks up to him and slaps him in the face.
"Commander! Wake up!"

Rikard opens his eyes. He's on the floor of Zen Forward, with a few different various colored-shirt crewmembers standing over him.
"Good morning, everybody," he says.
"Commander," the crewman crouched next to him says, "Good, you're up. Sir, we need you up. The bounty hunter is trying to take the captain. Mr. Tacoman had us try and wake you. Here, take this pill and wash it down with this." She handed Rikard one of the sobriety pills and a cup full of bright red liquid. Rikard took both. He almost spit out the red stuff, but forced it down.
"What'n the world was that?" Rikard asked.
"The bartender called it "wake up juice". Apparently it's a drink that's supposed to help clear your head. He got the idea from-"
"Never mind, that's okay. I think I can focus enough to help. I just need to get up, whoa!" Rikard stumbles a little, but the people around him help keep him up.
"I'll be fine, just go get the captain back."
"Are you sure," one of the various shirts asks.
"Uh huh," he replies, "I can feel this stuff workin' alrady."
Several of the crewmembers nod and leave. The rest disperse to help others. Rikard leans against the wall, desperately trying to focus past his current state. Milkshake needed him, and he wouldn't fail now. Unless he did. Sighing, he crouches down and grabs a phaser pistol. He holsters it and stumbles out of Zen Forward's door, hoping that they pill and drink quickly do take effect.

Shrugs at all the goings-on and begins to make more wake-up juice.

Gene: "A wise choise. Commander, Morgan, lets get going. To the Commander's quarters."

The three leave sickbay. Once they're gone, the holodoc program shuts down, the virus completely purges itself from the system, and the program restarts.

Holodoc: "Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

The holodoc looks around in confusion at the damaged equipment before shrugging his virtual shoulders, and begins cleaning up as much of the mess as he can before someone can arrive and fix what's wrong.

As Gene and the prisoners approach the quarters, the doors open, and Jackson steps out, fully dressed in his Cybersuit.
Going somewhere? You're going to have to get by me first.
Second voice, from behind them: Or will it be me?
The group turns around, only to discover a second Jackson behind them.
How can you tell which is the real me?
From down the ccorridor approaches a third Jackson.

Morgan stares around at the multiple Jacksons, formulating possibilities for escape. And then--

?

Observer is on a stage, staring out into total darkness. Besides him are four men, dressed identically in smart violet-colored suits, with a full assortment of musicians behind them. The musicians start up the introduction to a song as the singers snap their fingers and dip to the beat. Then, in a voice like butter, the first singer begins, the others harmonizing:

Took a walk and passed your house (late last night)
All the shades were pulled and drawn (way down tight)
From within, the dim light cast two silhouettes on the shade
Oh what a lovely couple they made


Observer knows this song, and finds himself dancing along, singing the words softly.

Put his arms around your waist, (held you tight)
Kisses I could almost taste (in the night)
Wondered why I'm not the guy whose silhouette's on the shade
I couldn't hide the tears in my ey--

!!

Morgan feels Windward's gun press into his back as he begins to speak to the three Jacksons.

Chhhhhh...

It's the familiar sound of anaesthezine being pumped in the corridor at high pressure. The thick green fog seems to indicate that the dose must be enough for several days in coma. Sleep well.

Surprisingly, the anaesthezine only affects Furbies.

As the anaesthezine approaches the group, something large and gooey falls from the ceiling and envelopes Gene. It hardens into one of Jackson's famous plasticine taco shells. All of the Jacksons disaapear, as well as the ceiling above the prisoners, revealing... Jackson. He is on his hands and knees on the ceiling, pointing one gautleded hand right at Gene. He jumps down just as the gas envelopes them. Because of his suit's filters, Jackson is able to resist the gas.
How was that for a trick?
Turning to Gene
Ok, mister. What are you doing on here, and why are you kidnapping members of the crew?

Very clever, Mr Jackson. I must give you credit for just an ingenious trap.

He holstered the revolver and drew the double-barreled pistol. He pointed it in the air. Behind his sunglasses, his irises contracted slightly.

He aimed the gun towards the Jackson in the doorway.
You're a hologram.
He shifted his aim towards the one behind them.
You're a hologram.
And he shifted his aim towards the one coming down the corridor.
And you're a hologram. So the correct answer is D.

He aimed in between Morgan and Milkshake, and fired. The shot didn't injure Jackson, but it did damage his Cybersuit and destroy the illusion.

Arthor, a #1 if you please.

Gene held out his right hand. There was a whine of a transporter, and a small gun appeared above his waiting hand and dropped neatly into it.

On a lesser person, it may have worked. Perhaps you'll do better next time.

Gene fired the stun gun. The dart went through one of the damaged parts in Jackson's armor and knocked him unconscious, if only for a few minutes.

Lets go, gentlemen.

Gene snapped out of the trance. He briefly wondered why he had halucinated that. Perhaps it had something to do with the gas....

Kidnapping? No, not that. Bounty Hunting. There is a difference.

Arthor, set the corridor's lighting to zero.

All the lights in the area went out. There was the sound of cracking, snapping, and gunshots. Then Morgan and Milkshake felt a hand on there shoulders, and Gene lead them out of the area, in total darkness, seemingly without any problem at all.

"Gotta... focus...." Rikard walks down one of the many corridors of the ship. He can barely see, since it's filled with green gas. He tries to use his senses, stretch them out to help him "see" things around him. Unfortunately, his powers are not as strong as they usually were. Ever since he and Insane had been ambushed on that planet...

Rikard nearly trips over a small, inert form. It takes him a second to realize that it's Furby, fast asleep. His brother iss not far away. Also nearby, and unconscious, is a yellowshirt. This confuses Rikard, since the gas should only affect the Furbys. He decides that now's not the time to try and sort things out, since he's still tipsy and because there's a more pressing matter that he needs deal with. Eventually, after much shuffling and staggering, Rikard finds a turbolift.
"Sickbay," he says. The turbolift starts immediately and quickly takes him to the deck of his destination. He exits and soon finds himself at the doors of Sickbay.

"Hey Doc! I need your help, the captain's in troub- what the hezmana happened in here?" Sickbay is a mess of broken and mangled equipment.
"I haven't the slightest idea," the doctor says, "I was activated and it was like this."
"Must've bin Genes," Rikard mutters.
"Who?"
"Never mind, listen, Doc, the captain is in trouble and I gotta help 'im. But there's one tiny whiny itty bitty problem. I'm kind of drunk. I've taken stuff that's supposed to sober me up, but it's not working too good. You got anyth-?" Rikard stops abruptly, a sick look crossing his face. He sprints to a nearby waste disposal and vomits into it.
"I see," the doctor says, "Well, I can give you something that could filter out the alcohol and speed up the sobering process. Although the after effects of being intoxicated will be present. I can give you some medication that will help treat it. You'll feel better, but it won't be perfect."
Rikard slowly looks up from the disposal.
"I'll take it."

Seconds later, Rikard staggers out the door.

Computer, shut down all transporters, shuttle bays, and other escape routes. Erect forcefields and lower bulkheads around the area the intruder is.
Computer: Acknowledged.
With that, Jackson actives his suit's night vision and begins following Gene and his group.

With a sparking and flickering, the lights come back on. Milkshake stares at the overhead illumination.

Colanator must be reasserting control.

He chuckles softly.

I programmed him very well.

Indeed you did. Too well, if the conditions on Earth are any indication.

They arrived at Milkshake's quarters. The doors opened, and then locked once they were inside. Gene sat down at Milkshake's desk, and had them sit down in front of it.

This will only take a moment.

Gene plugged the cable into Milkshake's computer.

Colanator is making amazing progres on counteracting my lockouts. Sometimes the automated machines need a little human interaction though.

He paused and seemed to just blank out. But when Morgan tried to move, the revolver appeared, aimed at him.

A few more minutes of the rather uncomfortable silence, and then...
Your safe. Please open it for me. I could crack the code, but lets all just save everyone the trouble, and you the expense of a new safe, shall we?

Fine, then.

Milkshake places one hand on the safe's control pad, where it silently scans his DNA, and clicks once. He enters the code, 5-2-3-1, and the safe's virtual contents are reconstituted to reality by the miniature replicomp inside. The door swings open...

Disappointed?

The contents of the safe consist of one hard-copy of Milkshake's standing orders, one case of medals, and one mysterious black disk, emblazoned on one side with a gold pictograph and the word "Shocker".

By this time, Jackson, Butrfli, and Alex have arrived at the doors. Jackson acivates his helmet's comm system and sends a message to Milkshake.
Steve, this is Jackson. I might have a plan... Would I be able to transport you and Kieran out of there, or maybe even Gene?

Gene: "Let me see that disk."

Gene produced a reader, and plugged the cable into it. Then he loaded the disk into the reader.

Gene: "Arthor, can you confirm what I'm seeing?"
Arthor: "Stand by... I am reading a large number of files on the disk. Initial comparisons are a 95% match to know source code fragments."
Gene: "Conclusion?"
Arthor: "It is the real thing."
Gene: "That is my assessment as well. Thank you. Swap it with a #1, please."

Gene: "Commander, I am not disappointed at all."

He removed the disk. It vanished in a transporter beam... and was replaced by a small pistol

Gene: "Your presence here is no longer required."

He fired. It was a stun gun and knocked Milkshake out on impact Its results were only temporary, and he would be back to normal in a few minutes.

Gene: "Lets go, Morgan. We have a flight to catch."

Not hearing from Milkshake and hearing a thump noise from inside, Jackson decides to take action. Plugging his suit into a nearby console, Jackson activates a transporter and transports Milkshake and Morgan into Zen Forward. Meanwhile, Alex and Butrfli have managed to unlock the door. When the doors open, Butrfli fires a stun spell into the room, hopefully slowing down Gene.

Rikard slowly but steadily makes his way to the Main Shuttlebay. Instead of entering however, he stops outside the doors and activates his comm.

"Rikard to Colanator. I need you to seal the main shuttlebay doors," he pauses, shaking his head before continuing, "and all other bay doors on the ship. I don't want Windward flying out of here with Commander Milkshake. Do you know Windward's location?"

Gene cursed under his breath as Morgan and Milkshake are beamed away. Then the doors open and Butrfli casts her spell. Gene drops down below the desk, narrowly avoiding the spell. On his way down, he fires several shots, deliberately wide, but it is enough to make her get out of spellcasting.

Gene: "Arthor! The door!"

The door closes and relocks, this time with a completely different passkey.

Gene: "Status."
Arthor: "I'm sorry Gene. They are much better than expected. Milkshake and Morgan have been beamed into Zen Forward. I have lost control of primary systems, including their transporter. Security systems are 47% under their control."
Gene: "What about the primary target?"
Arthor: "The disk is secure. Recommend that we cut our losses now. Internal sensors are questionable at best, but it appears that there is a significant number of crewmembers at that location."

Gene paused and considered the situation.

Gene: "Agreed. Prep for a fast exit, and send me the heavy assult gear."

Various pieces of equipment materialized next to Gene.

Gene: "Its times like these that I wish Arthor was equiped with something better than a cargo transporter..."

Delgado regains consciousness as Milkshake and Morgan materialize.

"Geez... you didn't happen to bring anything for a throbbing head with you, did you... er... sirs?"

Alex: Jackson, I just thought of something...
Jackson: What?
Alex: Computer, jam any transmissions and transports that are being sent to the intruder.
Computer: Acknowledged.
Jackson: I didn't even think about that... It makes sense that he would have help from somewhere.

Colanator responds to Rikard

The situation is in hand, Commander. The bay doors are sealed, and further precautions are being taken.

Inside the Main Shuttlebay, long evacuated, Windward's ship rests near one of the main repair stations. A little too near, for three telescoping fusion emitters unfold themselves and flare on. They then begin to slice into the outer engine casings of Windward's ship...

Milkshake is still out cold, and unable to respond to Delgado's query.