Vaxtrek V - Part I


VAX...The Final Frontier.

These are the voyages of the starship Vaxerprise.

Our continuing mission: to seek out that which is silly;

To explore that which is funny;

To boldly go...where no VAX 6320 has gone...before!


This semester's episode:

Gluteus Moebius

Written by:

Based on the episode:
Cause And Effect

Adaptation for MBBS:
Monty's Q-Scan Emporium

Musical Score Performed by:
M.C. Poppin-Fresh & The Lemniscate Orchestra

Produced by:
Hermann Minkowski

Directed by:



                       .             _  ___________________________=====____ 
              __--__                / ||   =<====We Build Excitement==     / 
___________---______-##___________  \_||__________________________________/ 
\________________________________/         | |        . 
             \______/  \__ .. :  \         | |   
               `--'       \_   :  \        | |                       . 
                         __-`------`_______| |______
.                     \ |||_     .::. :    |_|    |_\
                      -)=##_ =<=======--     :. ____/ 
         :            / |###            ____----          . 

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Captain's Log.  Stardate 46002.3.  It's been almost one week
                 since our encounter with CAPT. K'ENOBITE in AZIZIA's Galactic
                 Day Care Center.  And now that most of our battle damage has 
                 been repaired, we are headed to Starbase 133 at full impulse
                 power.  The saddest part of it all is that, upon our arrival
                 at Starbase 133, this proud and sturdy vessel is to be...
                 decomissioned.  This ship has served the Federation well over
                 the last 5 years, and I hate to have to give her up.  End of
                 log entry."  8(




COMM. CONDOR:  "Greetings, Captain!"  8)

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Good morning, Number One."  8(

COMM. CONDOR:  "What's wrong, Cap'n?  Do your cookies still taste like Lime

CAPT. TREKKER:  "'s nothing.  I've just been thinking about this ship.
                 I'm going to miss her.  I've had a lot of good times here."  8(

COMM. CONDOR:  "You've had GOOD times here?  I'VE known nothing but headache
                and hardship!  First my cat dies, then I accidentally lock-up
                the food processors, and no one eats for a week.  Then to top
                it all off, the shrapnel from your quarters tore a hole in my
                bathroom wall big enough to drive a truck through!"

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Your point, Commander?"

COMM. CONDOR:   "My point is, the VAXERPRISE is cursed!  We're the butt of ALL
                 the jokes back at the Academy you know.  Granted, we do a bang
                 up job as far as saving the universe goes, but face it!  We're
                 a ship full of losers!  They sent us out here to get RID of us!
                 Frankly sir, I'll be GLAD when they put this crate out to

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Surely, you CAN'T be serious?"

COMM. CONDOR:   "Yep, they're gonna chop her up, and sell her for scrap!
                 And don't call me Shirley.  Besides, I'm going to get my own
                 ship!  The USS HFS!  The biggest ship in the fleet!"  8)

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Hooray for you, Commander."

COMM. CONDOR:  "That's CAPTAIN, sir."  8)

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Not until we get to Starbase 133, it isn't."

COMM. CONDOR:  "Hmmm...maybe they'll let me have YOU as my first officer!"  8)

CAPT. TREKKER:  "I don't THINK so!"

COMM. CONDOR:  "Heh-heh."  8)
LT. OVERDOSE:  "BRIDGE to CAPTAIN.  Sir, there's a message coming in from 
                Starbase 133 for you sir."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Thank you, Lieutenant.  I'm on my way."

(CAPT. TREKKER and 'soon-to-be-Captain' CONDOR leave TREKKER's ready room and
  enter the main bridge.  As he approaches his command chair, CAPT. TREKKER
                      brushes the soot off the armrest.)

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Darn it!  Somebody get me a DUSTBUSTER!"

LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "Hmmm...wouldn't that be a SOOTbuster, sir?"

CAPT. TREKKER:  "WHAT?  What are you babbling about, LTCOMDATA?!"

LT. OVERDOSE:  "Sir, COMMODORE VIVISECTVI is on line three.  He wishes to 
                speak with you."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "On screen."

COMMODORE VIVISECTVI:  "Howdy TREKKER.  I presume you're on your way here to 
                        Starbase 133?"

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Aye, Commodore.  We should be there in about a month.  Pardon
                 me for asking sir, but weren't you stationed at Starbase 69
                 in VAXTREK III?"

COMMODORE VIVISECTVI:  "Yeah, but I requested a transfer.  The hours are better
                        here.  Enough with the idle chatter, TREKKER.  I have a
                        proposition for you."

CAPT. TREKKER:   "I'm all ears."

COMMODORE VIVISECTVI:  "We here at Starfleet Command know of your fondness for
                        vegetables, so we decided to invite you to the Annual
                        Rutabaga Festival, here at the Starbase."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Uh...sir, it's chocolate chip cookies I'm fond of.  I'm not
                 particularly keen on vegetables.  Least of all ruta..."

COMMODORE VIVISECTVI:  "I can imagine how thrilled you must be.  The festival
                        is in one week.  Hope to see you there."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "But...sir.  We aren't scheduled to arrive for a month yet.
                 We don't have warp power.  There's no way we could get there
                 in time."

COMMODORE VIVISECTVI:  "Pardon me?  I don't think I HEARD you correctly.  Did
                        you just say NO to me, LIEUTENANT?!"

CAPT. TREKKER:  "No, sir...I mean yes, sir.  I mean...we're horribly limited in
                 our abilities at the moment."

COMMODORE VIVISECTI:  "WHAT?!  How DARE you refuse a gift from a superior
                       officer!  Don't you realize we only offer ONE Captain's 
                       invitation each year?!  You should be HONORED!  So, I 
                       suggest you find a way to get here on time, ENSIGN!"

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Uh...aye, sir.  We'll be there as soon as we can."

COMMODORE VIVISECTVI:  "Splendid, Captain.  I knew you'd see things MY way.
                        VIVI out."  8)

LT. MISTERB:  "Communications terminated, sir."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Yeah!  He'd BETTER hang up!  I'll kick his sorry..."


CAPT. TREKKER:  "The man's a tin plated dictator!  I oughta...oh, nevermind.
                 LT. OVERDOSE, plot the shortest course to Starbase 133."

LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "Sir.  That would take us through the Typhon Expanse."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Sooo what?  It'll cut our trip down to about one week."  8)

LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "You fail to realize, Captain, the Typhon Expanse is 
                       a relatively unexplored region of space."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Well, there's no better time than the present.  Don't you
                 think so, Number One?"  8)

COMM. CONDOR:  "Uh...huh."  8(

COUNSELOR BELGARATH:  "I could say something, but I won't."

LT. OVERDOSE:  "Course laid in, sir."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Excellent.  Engage."

                        __                         __
                       /__\        __---__        /__\
      .              __\__/_____---.--.--.---_____\__/__                  .
                            \\_   \__| |__/   _//
                              \\_   `| |'   _//
        .                       \\..=====..//         .          .
                   .             `/|||||||\'
                                 |_-------_|                              .
                                  \       /

            (Five days later...down in Ten Forward, our merry gang
        of mirthmakers are playing a blood thirsty game of Scrabble.)
COMM. CONDOR:  "Your turn, Mr. LTCOMDATA."

LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "Aye, sir."

    (LTCOMDATA shakes the Scrabble-Bag vigorously and then removes 7 tiles.)


LT. VENKMAN:  "HURRY UP!  HURRY UP!  We don't have all day!"

DR. DOC:  "Hmmm...sounds like Mr. VENKMAN needs a sedative.  DOC to NURSE

LT. VENKMAN:  "Ooops!  Heh-heh.  I'll be quiet.  I promise!"  8)

            (Suddenly, LTCOMDATA places ALL 7 tiles on the board.)


LT. MISTERB:  "What the...?"

COMM. CONDOR:  "Interesting word, Lieutenant Commander."

LT. VENKMAN:  "Uh...I have a question."

LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "Yes, Lieutenant?"


LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "ZINCKING...Z-I-N-C-K-I-N-G.  It is a process whereby
                       an object is treated or coated with zinc; a bluish
                       white crystalline metallic element with an atomic
                       number of..."

LT. VENKMAN:  "ZINCKING?!  You've GOT to be kidding!  What kind of game do you
               think we're playing here?!"

LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "Scrabble.  It is a game played on a board, where the 
                       participants attempt to arrange small tiles (upon which
                       letters have been imprinted) to form words.  Several
                       variations of this game have been devised over the last
                       300 years.  For example, UPWORDS, a game invented during
                       the latter half of the 20th Century, took a 3-dimensional
                       approach to the game, while the game SCRABBINARY used
                       ones and zeros to form..."

DR. DOC:  "Thank you, Lieutenant Commander.  What's the score, CONDOR?"

COMM. CONDOR:  "Well...the word itself is worth...10...15...18...24 points.
                There's a double letter score for the Z, and a triple word
                score.  So in total he has..."

LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "82 points for a total of 365, altogether."

LT. MISTERB:  "I quit."  8(

DR. DOC:  "Why, Lieutenant?  The night is young!"  8)


DR. DOC:  "DOC here.  What's wrong?"

NURSE STIMPY:  "LT. COMM. SIROTTO needs you in sickbay, Doctor."

DR. DOC:  "I'm on my way.  DOC out."  8)


                       .             _  ___________________________=====____ 
              __--__                / ||   =<====We Build Excitement==     / 
___________---______-##___________  \_||__________________________________/ 
\________________________________/         | |        . 
             \______/  \__ .. :  \         | |   
               `--'       \_   :  \        | |                       . 
                         __-`------`_______| |______
.                     \ |||_     .::. :    |_|    |_\
                      -)=##_ =<=======--     :. ____/ 
         :            / |###            ____----          . 

        (A wee bit later, we join DR. DOC in sickbay as she patches up
                           the sick and afflicted.)

LT. COMM. SIROTTO:  "I don't know what happened.  I was realigning the
                     dilithium crystals, when all of a sudden I got the most
                     intense abdominal pain.  I thought I was going to die.
                     Good thing LT. FLOUNDER was there to give me a TUMS.
                     It's a long way to the bathroom."

DR. DOC:  "Hmmm...have you suffered from abdominal pain before?"

LT. COMM. SIROTTO:  "I'm not sure.  I don't think so."

DR. DOC:   "Hmmm...sounds like you're having contractions.  Are you pregnant?"

LT. COMM. SIROTTO:  "Of course not!  I can't GET pregnant!"

DR. DOC:  "Oh yeah.  Hmmm...well MAYBE it's intestinal gas."

LT. COMM. SIROTTO:  "Gas?  How could it be gas?  I haven't EATEN anything!"

DR. DOC:  "That's the problem.  You need to eat something.  Here, have a
           Lender's I mean Bagel.  Would you like some LOX with

LT. COMM. SIROTTO:  "LOX?  Liquid Oxygen?"

DR. DOC:  "Is THAT what it's made of?!  Maybe THAT'S why you have gas!  You've
           been drinking too much Liquid Oxygen!"  8)

LT. COMM. SIROTTO:  "What are you talking about?!"

DR. DOC:  "Hmmm...I'm not sure.  Here...take two Pez and call me in the
           morning."  8)

LT. COMM. SIROTTO:  "Ick.  But these are GREEN?!"

DR. DOC:  "Hey, those are the best kind!"  8)

     (Later that evening...we join CAPT. TREKKER in his Ready Room as he
     tries desperately to eat a Chips Ahoy Chocolate Chip Cookie WITHOUT
                              eating the chips.)

CAPT. TREKKER:  "DARN IT!  Foiled again!  Oh well, what's a chocolate chip
                 cookie without the chocolate?"  (*Chomp-chomp*)

                 (Suddenly, although for only a brief moment,
               the room is filled with unintelligible chatter.)


CAPT. TREKKER (Dropping his plate of cookies):  *SMASH*  "WHAT THE...?  TREKKER
                                                          to ENGINEERING!  Did
                                                          you just hear that?"

LT. FLOUNDER:  "ENGINEERING, this is Lieutenant FLOUNDER.  Hear what, sir?"

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Uh...nothing.  For a second, I thought I heard voices."

LT. FLOUNDER:  "No, sir.  We have nothing to report here.  Perhaps you're
                tired.  Maybe you should get some rest."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "I think I'll do that.  Thank you, Lieutentant.  TREKKER out."

   (As CAPT. TREKKER leaves his ready room, he glances at the broken plate
                          of cookies on the floor.)

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Weird."

                    .   __                         __            .
                       /  \        __---__        /  \
                            \\_   \_______/   _//                       .
          .                   \\_   `---'   _//
.                .               `/ .---. \'                 .
                                 | |  o  |##
                                  \ `-_-'##

   (The next morning, we join the senior officers in the recently repaired
          Observation Lounge, during a rather...important meeting.)

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Dang it!  Why do these doughnuts taste like lime jello?!"

COMM. EINSTEIN:  "Well sir, we haven't been able to correct ALL the 
                  files yet.  There are over 4500 culinary items that
                  have to be reprogrammed."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Nevermind, Mr. EINSTEIN.  Mr. LTCOMDATA, what is your report?"

LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "According to our data, we should arrive at Starbase 133
                       in roughly 3 days."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Hmmm...that's cutting it a bit close don't you think?"

LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "On the contrary, sir.  At full impulse, it is a miracle
                       that we have been able to make it this far, so quickly."

LT. MISTERB:  "BRIDGE to CAPTAIN.  We're detecting a temporal distortion off our
               starboard bow."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Hmmm...I'm on my way."

(CAPT. TREKKER and company leave the merry confines of the Observation Lounge
   and head zippo-quick to the main bridge.  As they enter the main bridge,
         CAPT. TREKKER glares unhappily at the soot on his armrest.)

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Darn it!  I hate soot!  Report, Mr. OVERDOSE."

LT. OVERDOSE:  "We didn't detect it until we were almost on top of it, sir.
                We had no warning."

                        (Suddenly, the lights go out.)

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Emergency lights!"

COMM. CONDOR:  "Neat!  COMPUTER, activate the Dance Club!"

         (At that moment, all the emergency lights begin to strobe.)


LT. MISTERB:  "Sir, something has just emerged from the distortion."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Hmmm...on screen."

        /            .                                              \
        |                                                 .         |
        |                  _              .      _                  |
        |      .          / \       _____       / \                 |
        |             =================================        .    |
        |                  ||_____|`_____'|_____||            .     |
        |                        |   ___   |                        |
        |                .        \ |<*>| /                         |
        | .                        \_---_/         .                |
        |                     *,~      .                            |
        |            :          "                                .  |

LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "It appears to be a FATHEAD class Starship sir."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Open hailing frequencies."

LT. MISTERB:  "Frequencies open, sir."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "This is Captain Jean-Luc TREKKER of the battle-weary Starship
                 VAXERPRISE.  Please identify yourselves."

LT. MISTERB:  " response, sir."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "What's that junk off its starboard?"

LT. OVERDOSE:  "They appear to have jettisoned some debris." 

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Identify."

LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "Five bottles of Figgy Fizz, and a crumpled Snickers
                       Candy Bar wrapper."


LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "I said, five bottles of Figgy..."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "I HEARD what you said, LTCOMDATA.  I just can't BELIEVE they're
                 jettisoning their GARBAGE into space!"

COMM. CONDOR:  "The debris is on a collision course with us, sir!"


LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "Shields are inoperative, sir.  Impact in 36 seconds."

COUNSELOR BELGARATH:  "Uh...perhaps we should move out of the way?"

LT. MISTERB:  "Sounds good to me."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Fire aft thrusters."

LT. OVERDOSE:  "Thrusters appear to be broken, sir."

COMM. CONDOR:  "THESE are broken, MINE are broken!  What gives?!"

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Suggestions?"

COMM. CONDOR:  "How about we fire a photon torpedo at the debris."

COMM. EINSTEIN:  "LT. SILVERFIRE once suggested an interesting experiment.
                  How about if we transport the entire ship, one foot to
                  the left?"

COMM. CONDOR:  "Where do you get your delusions, loser brain?!  That's

COMM. EINSTEIN:  "Hey!  It could happen!"

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Make it so, MISTERB."

LT. MISTERB:  "Why me?!  Oh, wait...that's my job.  Aye, sir."

(LT. MISTERB engages the transporter controls and attempts to transport the
     entire ship one foot to the left.  Needless to say, this is horribly

                    .   ..                         ..            .
                       .  .        __---_.        /  \
                            .._   \_.......   ...                       .
          .                   \\_   `---'   ./.
.                .               .. ...-. ..                 .
                                 . .  .  . .
                                  . ..... .


COMM. EINSTEIN:  "Oh gee!  Everybody dump on ME!"  8(

COUNSELOR BELGARATH:  "Now you see you don't...not see it.  NOT!  I
                       think...not, no...wait!"   8)

LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "Impact in 2 seconds."

CAPT. TREKKER:  "Brace yourselves!"

                                             .                        .
       ______________________________              _______
      |____NCC_2002__USS MINKOWSKI__/    ##==========================
 .                   \=_________                 |
                                `----._    ---=>/             .
           .                           `-*_*___/                   .
                                      ~, |/
 .                     .             *---*----*____________________=====____ 
              __--__                / || |\=<====We Build...OUCH! ======   / 
___________---______-##___________  \_||_|_\______________________________/ 
\________________________________/       * |*|        . 
             \______/  \__ .. :  \         | |   
               `--'       \_   :  \        | |                       . 
                         __-`------`_______| |______
.                     \ |||_     .::. :    |_|    |_\
                      -)=### =<=======--     :. ____/ 
         :            / |##             ____----          . 

  (Suddenly, the ship rocks violently, and everyone is thrown to the floor.)


LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "A crumpled candy wrapper has impacted the starboard
                       nacelle, sir.  We are venting drive plasma."


CAPT. TREKKER:  "Belay that, Commander!"

LT. COMM. SIROTTO:  "SIROTTO to BRIDGE!  We're losing antimatter containment!"

LT. OVERDOSE:  "Attempting to eject warp core, sir."

LT. COMM. LTCOMDATA:  "Hmmm...ejection procedures are ineffective, sir."



                                        *          | *
                        __   | *       /           |/
                   *   /__\  |/    __-*---*       /*----*
      .             \__\_*---*---*-.--.--.-*-_____\|_/__                  .
                     |      \\|\  \__*---*--* _//
                     *        |\\   `| |/|  _/*---*
        .                     * \*..===*=*.// |\      .          .
                   .             `/ *|*|*|\'  * \
                                 |_--\|/--_|     *                        .
                                      | *

  (As you probably guessed, the VAXERPRISE was destroyed.  So, for lack of a
  better venue, we shift our viewpoint to the bridge of the USS MINKOWSKI.)

CAPT. PINK:  "Wow!  She blow'd up REEEEAL GOOD!"  8)

COMM. DREDD:  " unfortunate."  8)

CAPT. PINK:  "Mr. TUSCON, were you able to get the registry on that vessel?"

LT. COMM. TUSCON:  "Yes, sir.  It was the USS VAXERPRISE...NCC-1313."

CAPT. PINK:  " Starfleet and notify them."

LT. COMM. TUSCON:  "Aye, sir."

CAPT. PINK:  "Helm, plot a couse to 135 Mark 00."

LT. ADVISORY:  "Course plotted, sir."

CAPT. PINK:  "Engage."

                           _                     _
                          /_\       _____       /_\
   .                       ||_____|_/___\_|_____||           .
                       .         |_________|
                                  \ [|||] /                                .
          .                        \_---_/         .

                Was the VAXERPRISE really destroyed?  YES!  8)

                        Will TREKKER ever...uh...hmmm.

               Will the strobes on the bridge be turned...hmmm.

     Gee, since the VAXERPRISE is gone, I guess I have no more questions.


So, tune in...later for the exciting continuation of VAXTREK V! I hope.

"Boldly Going Forward, least we USED to."


[Main Menu] [Part I] [Part II] [Conclusion]