GALACTICA vs ENTERPRISE, chapter 6 of 6

We're on the home stretch here... Picard has decided to hold a peace
conference between the various warring, observing and even disinterested
parties in this story, and find some common ground before the Cylons reach
them and start killing people at random.  (Worf is disappointed by this.)
  After a number of long and tedious conversations we won't report (not to be
confused with all of the long and tedious conversations already part of this
story), an uneasy truce exists on the bridge of the Enterprise (yes, the main
one AGAIN) as representatives of the various ships hang out together and eat
tasteless little hors d'oeuvres.
  The Klingons, however, refrain from this.  Worf is attempting to talk to
the officers from the Klingon ship, and although they are howling at each
other in the manner of badly wounded dogs, they don't appear to understand a
word each other is saying.  Finally they break it off.

WORF: Talk proper Klingon, you fools!
KOLOTH: I AM talking fluent Klingonese, what is YOUR problem?
WORF: Fluent Klingonese from what era?  That's NOTHING like the way Klingons
 talk.  You don't look like proper Klingons, either.
KOLOTH: Oh, I suppose "proper Klingons" all look like they have lobsters
 embedded in their skulls.
WORF: As a matter of fact they do.
KOLOTH: You're no Klingon.  What are you doing on a ship of the enemy?
WORF: The enemy?
KOLOTH: Yes!  A ship even bearing the same name as our hated enemy, James
 Kirk!  Who humiliated us just two days ago at Sherman's planet!
WORF: Wait a minute, James Kirk was captain of the first two "starship
 Enterprise" vessels.  That was years and years ago.
KOLOTH: Years and years, freak?!  We just this morning finished trampling all
 those damned tribbles he inflicted on us!  We'll be picking colored fur and
 tribble guts out of our equipment for years and years, THAT's where the years
 and years come in to this!
WORF: You are obviously deranged.
KOLOTH: And you are obviously a traitor!  Serving on a Federation vessel!
 Wearing Federation pajamas!
WORF: Traitor?  Sir, Klingon honor demands I require your apology!
KOLOTH: Apology?  Fool!  Klingon honor demands I stick my thumb in your eye!
WORF: Ow!  An assault!  Klingon honor demands that I show no pain, but ram my
 fist up your nose!
KOLOTH: Mmff grmffpht mfff--
WORF: Oh, sorry.
KOLOTH: Thank you.  You dog!  Klingon honor demands that I ignore all the blood
 running down my face, and smash you over the head with this chair!
WORF: Oooooooooooofff.  That didn't hurt.  Where'd you go?  Oh.  That was
 nothing, you offspring of Milli Vanilli!  Klingon honor demands I ignore the
 chair leg sticking out of my ear, and stuff you into this tiny service panel
 here--
PICARD: Worf, now that you guys are done greeting each other, come over with
 the rest of us.  This is interesting.
WORF: Do I have to?
PICARD: Now.
KOLOTH: He orders you?  And you call yourself a Klingon??
WORF: I'll settle with you later.
KOLOTH: I look forward to it.
PICARD: Commander Adama, tell us that part again.
ADAMA: In Colonial lore, there was a thirteenth tribe that left the home
 worlds and started another colony far away.  This colony's planet was known
 as Earth.
PICARD: Curious.  Data, can that be?
DATA: It seems most improbable, sir.  Checking computer references now.
PICARD: Commander, what is the source of your information?
ADAMA: Mostly what is written in the book of Kobol.
PICARD: What else does it say?
ADAMA: Lots of weird stuff about writing extremely verbose computer programs,
 and ending every command with a period or the compiler freaks.  The book of
 Kobol isn't very popular with our young people.
PICARD: Indeed?
ADAMA: Yes.  They switched to the book of Fortran, and later the book of C.
 Sacrilegious louts.
GEORDI: How about Ada?  Anybody use that?
ADAMA: (sigh) Ada was written by our Council of the Twelve.  ...You can kind
 of tell, actually.
PICARD: Mr. Data, are you finding anything?
DATA: Actually, yes.  No solid evidence that the Earth was a Colonial tribe
 of any sort, but I did find one interesting reference.  It appears that in
 Earth's late twentieth century, the Battlestar Galactica did reach the planet
 Earth.
STARBUCK: What do you mean, "did reach"?
DATA: It's part of our history from three and a half centuries ago.
ADAMA: So, we are displaced in time right now.  Or we will be.  Either way,
 we know we'll survive this encounter with the Cylons and finally reach the
 Earth!
STARBUCK: That's great!  We're going to make it!
DATA: Er, well...
APOLLO: What's wrong?
DATA: Not by these records, you don't.  When the Galactica reached the Earth,
 apparently neither of you two young men were still alive.  Commander Adama
 here was one of the few still alive.
STARBUCK: Figure that one out, folks.
APOLLO: You mean, Starbuck and I are going to die before we reach Earth?
DATA: Yes.
STARBUCK: That's terrible!
DATA: Not really.  You, for example, were quite a hit on the A-Team, which has
 received a lot more syndication than Battlestar Galactica ever did.
ADAMA: I didn't quite follow that last bit.
DATA: Well, it's hard to tell from our records; what we have on the twentieth
 century seems to be as confusing as the century itself.  But it may be that
 the whole story of the Galactica was a work of fiction.
ADAMA: You're starting to sound like my Mr. Wizard.  In other words, you're
 making absolutely no sense at all.
DATA: What I'm saying is, to the universe from which the Enterprise comes,
 the Earth isn't a Colonial colony, and your vessel and your people never
 really existed.  Just as, in the universe from which you come, the Enterprise
 probably does not exist.
ADAMA: Amazing.  Mr. Wizard said something like that.  He said your ship could
 not exist in our universe.
PICARD: Wait just a minute.  You're saying that these people are a work of
 fiction?
DATA: As we also may be, sir.
PICARD: This explains a lot.  Will Riker must've been a typo.
DATA: An author in the twentieth century, a Robert Heinlein, suggested that
 the works of creative fiction may all have "real" existence in some other
 universe somewhere.
PICARD: And this is another two-bit sci-fi theory we have to take seriously
 now, is that it?
DATA: Basically.
WORF: This explains a lot.  Obviously the Klingons I know, and these idiots all
 bent out of shape about a bunch of little tribbles, came from different
 imaginations.  Or at least, I came from a better makeup department.
RIKER: What else did this Heinlein say?
DATA: Well, later in life he suggested that people should have sex with anyone
 and anything, regardless of circumstances, preference and gender.  I'm not
 sure what that had to do with science fiction, but he sure started to write a
 lot of it.
RIKER: I like the sounds of this Heinlein.
PICARD: Yes, well, stay away from the rest of us.  This theory is nice enough,
 I suppose, except it still doesn't answer what we will do when the Cylons
 get here to kick some Colonial butts.  How long, Geordi?
GEORDI: Another half hour and they'll have caught back up, sir.
PICARD: So, what do we do?  Maybe some of the other ship's representatives
 have some comments.  Who do we have here?
TROI: People from the Heart of Gold, the Nostromo, the Eagle, something called
 a Tardis, the Palomino, and miscellaneous extras from Lost in Space, Buck
 Rogers, Dune... sir, the list goes on and on.  I suggest, in the interests
 of keeping our already absurdly diverse cast list to a minimum, that we
 ignore the lot of them.
PICARD: Agreed.  Stop feeding them, then.
GEEK: What about me?
PICARD: What about you?  Who are you?
GEEK: I was out watching from my car.
PICARD: Oh, I see.  What do you want?
GEEK: I want you guys to get back to fighting.
PICARD: Excuse me?
GEEK: That's what I'm here for.  To see the battle.
WORF: Which one?
GEEK: Any of them, but the real important one is the Enterprise versus the
 Galactica.  A lot of us have money down on who will win.
ADAMA: What are you talking about?
PICARD: Who, exactly, are you?
GEEK: My name is not important.  I am one of the frequent patrons of the
 rec.arts.startrek bboard, and we want to know which ship can kick which
 ship's butt, the Enterprise or the Galactica.  There's been a lot of people
 discussing this, you know.
RIKER: Is he serious?
WORF: Captain Picard sir!  Klingon honor demands we blame this whole icky mess
 on this geek here, and tear him to shreds!
PICARD: No.
WORF: Huh?
PICARD: We're not going to fight any more.
DATA: Uh, sir, who are you addressing?
PICARD: Whoever arranged this event.  DO YOU HEAR ME?  WHOEVER YOU ARE,
 WHEREVER YOU ARE!  WE'RE NOT GOING TO FIGHT ANY MORE!
KOLOTH: See, he even solves episodes like James Kirk.  What a woobie.
TROI: Captain, I sense extreme annoyance from beings around us.  Captain!  The
 emotions are focusing here on the bridge--!

Suddenly, with a shimmer of light and some other neat special effects sorts of
flourishes, two figures appear, reminiscent of half a dozen episodes from The
Old Show.  They are clearly beings from a higher plane of existence, since
they are wearing Greek togas.

H.I.M.B. #1: Greetings, peons.  We are the H. I. M. B.
PICARD: Excuse me, you're the what?
H.I.M.B. #1: The H. I. M. B.  It stands for Hyper-Intelligent Meddling Beings.
 It's rather a self-explanatory acronym, really.
ADAMA: What is it you want with us?
H.I.M.B. #2: Well, some of those hors d'oeuvres would be quite nice.  Particu-
 larly those cheesy ones, please?
H.I.M.B. #1: Yes, but we are also here because we are exceedingly displeased.
 You people are not proceeding in a manner at all conducive to good, clean
 senseless violence.  We have set up a situation with conflicting alliances
 and hatreds, and what do you do halfway through shooting each other up real
 good?  You go and hold a peace conference.  You all DISGUST me.
PICARD: Well, with all due disrespect, we find the idea of beings meddling
 with the lives of others to be quite disgusting as well.  It's to avoid just
 such situations that we have the Prime Directive.
ROMULAN COMMANDER: And when somebody does that to US, we demolish them and
 make them our slaves.
H.I.M.B. #2: Say, these are DELICIOUS.  Could we have the recipe?
PICARD: I mean, just who do you think you guys are?
H.I.M.B. #1: Well... just a couple of guys, you know?  We got kicked off the
 Brockian Ultra-Cricket team, and have time on our hands to just play tricks
 on people.
H.I.M.B. #2: Yeah.  Take the Horse Head Nebula, for example.  No big deal,
 right?  But who do you think stole the horse's body?  Huh?
GEEK: I wanna know who would win!  Make them fight!
WORF: Silence!
H.I.M.B. #1: Well, it really doesn't matter, we ran a computer simulation to
 see how it would end up.  I guess that's all we have, since you guys won't
 be fighting now.
PICARD: Ah, finally.  So, you're going to return us all to our own universes,
 then?
H.I.M.B. #1: Well, not exactly.  We'll leave you here for a few centuries just
 to see if your descendants feel more like fighting.

There is one of those ominous silences throughout the bridge.

H.I.M.B. #2: You had to go tell them that already, didn't you?  I don't suppose
 I'll be getting any more food now.
PICARD: You're going to do WHAT?
H.I.M.B. #1: Don't be getting any ideas, Picard.  We're higher beings, you
 know.  We outpower you puny beings.
H.I.M.B. #2: That's right!  We're the equal of any ten or so of you!

Another silence occurs, during which time the forty or fifty people on the
Enterprise bridge count to see how many people are there.  The silence is
broken as they all pile on top of the two H.I.M.B.s.

H.I.M.B. #1: Ow!!  Oooh!  AAAAHHHH!
H.I.M.B. #2: No, please, don't rip the robe!  Hey!!!
H.I.M.B. #1: You had to go tell them that, you fool!
H.I.M.B. #2: Well, we can still wave our arms and change all this!
H.I.M.B. #1: Can you move YOUR arms?
H.I.M.B. #2: Well... no.
H.I.M.B. #1: Then SHUT UP about it!
GEEK: Who would win?  That's what I want to know.
H.I.M.B. #2: If we tell, will you let us up?
GEEK: Sure!
H.I.M.B. #2: It was a draw.  The two ships destroyed each other completely.
GEEK: Yes, but who won?
H.I.M.B. #1: Aren't you listening?  Nobody won!
GEEK: Somebody had to survive!
H.I.M.B. #2: Sure.  Data and Muffit.  Muffit then tried to bite Data, and they
 both shorted out.  Happy now?
GEEK: Not really.
H.I.M.B. #2: So, you'll let us go now?
EVERYONE: NO.
H.I.M.B. #2: Oh, hey, not fair.
H.I.M.B. #1: Oh, DO shut up.
GEEK: Wait!  Which ship would win a battle, the Enterprise or the Death Star?
H.I.M.B. #1: Kid?
GEEK: Yeah?
H.I.M.B. #1: Just GET A LIFE, would you?

All the excitement over, the two meddling beings are securely tied with heavy
cords and bundled into a shuttle from the Galactica.  With essentially no fond
farewells at all, the shuttle is programmed to intercept the approaching Cylon
forces, without any weapons of course.

The transporter room in the Enterprise is busy sending people back to their
own vessels again.  The Galactica members linger behind.

ADAMA: So, we believe that when the Cylons destroy that shuttle, this strange
 set of circumstances which brought us together will be over?
DATA: That's the theory.  And the only way of ending this story in the few
 lines of text which remain.
ADAMA: So, I suppose that we will be back to our seperate private struggles.
PICARD: It would seem so.  But it was inspiring to know that, in other,
 different universes than our own, good is still triumphing over evil so
 valiantly.  Or at least, running away fast enough.
STARBUCK: I can't tell if that was a compliment or an insult.
APOLLO: Don't worry about it.
PICARD: How long until the Cylons reach the shuttle?
GEORDI: Just another minute.
PICARD: Gentlemen, you'd better be going, then.
ADAMA: Right.  Come on, you two.
APOLLO: Uh, dad?
ADAMA: Now what?
APOLLO: Starbuck and I have decided that, on the whole, if we're not going to
 make it to Earth and you are, we'd rather it be because we stayed back here.
ADAMA: What!  That's stupid!  Are you crazy?  I'll never agree to this!
DATA: Commander Adama, we have to send you back NOW.
ADAMA: Oh.  Okay, I agree.  Bye, son!  Good luck with your new life.

Commander Adama disappears from the transporter deck.

GEORDI: That's the last of them.  Even sent Vader off in his beat up ship
 again.  I guess we're ready for whatever happens.
PICARD: Starbuck, Apollo, you are welcome in the Federation, of course.  I
 just hope you do not find yourself seperated from us and drifting in space
 once the different universes seperate again.
STARBUCK: Aren't you a bundle of cheer?
APOLLO: I'm not too worried.  With all the logical points which were stretched
 or just plain ignored in this story, I'm sure we'll get away with it.
GEORDI: Sir!  The Cylons opened fire on our shuttle!
PICARD: Well, here we go then...
GEORDI: Sir!  The H.I.M.B.s must have gotten loose!  They are blasting away
 at the Cylons!  They destroyed two of those big ships!--  Wait, the Cylons
 got them...

All the strange colors and sensations return for a moment.  But only a moment.
Please do not adjust your set.

PICARD: Bridge!  Are we back in normal space yet?
RIKER: Well, there's stars and black space.  It looks okay, anyway.
PICARD: Thank you Mr. Riker.
APOLLO: What a crew.
DATA: From here sensors show the same quadrant we were in before all this
 started.  And there's the Romulan ship again, sir.  Still pretty well
 damaged.
WORF: Bridge to transporter room!  Sir, permission to kick their butts before
 we leave?
PICARD: I don't know.  Will, what do you think?
RIKER: Let's get them!
PICARD: Mr. Data, Geordi, Wesley, etc., set us a course for starbase fifty-
 two.  It's time we were going home.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This concludes our epic tale of senseless stupidity.

On the off chance that you were not thoroughly annoyed by it, please send me
email and I'll try to correct this for you.

Once again, my legend...

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* internet: marky@draco.ece.cmu.edu * Klingon names start with "K" or "W".   *
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