Alan Decker's Star Traks (though all the other Star Traks series deserve mention for inspiration),and these in turn are based on Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry. Last thing I knew Paramount and Viacom owned Star Trek, but with weird stuff happening there I don't think they know who owns it, though CBS might be in there somewhere. Anyway, I don't. If you do own Star Trek, drop me an e-mail and I'll credit you for having enough money to buy the franchise. Copyright 2007. All rights reserved. Rated PG (by author, who knows nothing about ratings). But I don't think there's any foul language, just a couple insults and gory deaths. Nothing worse than you get in primary school playgrounds these days. ######################################### ###STAR TRAKS: THE INCONGRUOUS VOYAGES### ######################################### ########Season One: Episode Four######### ######################################### ########The Fishy And The Elderly######## ######################################### #################by RPS################## ######################################### "First Mates log, Stardate 178257.3, on board the Raceabout Celduin. Myself, Doctor Scorpio and GorDonTer are returning from the Great Denobulan Fashion Symposium on Denobula IV, the conference a success, in the sense that I didn't get too bored. As per standard most of the stuff on there was complete utter crap, however I did bump into an old friend of mine, Starfleet Commander Byne Blackmon, and we managed to escape the drudgery of the Capital Conference Centre to spend some quality time on the nearby beaches." "Quality time eh honey?" "Computer, delete Doctor Scorpio’s comment, though let it be noted that nothing happened between myself and Commander Blackmon, we simply caught up on things and remembered some quality old times. The good Doctor and Flash reported they found the conference extremely useful and entertaining, so I will take their word for it. At current speed we should rendezvous with Captain Reimann and the rest of the crew near Antidea IV in two days, where they are delivering much-needed medical supplies. End log." Leanne Braistway finished her log, turning in her chair to face Doctor Belle Scorpio who was seated at a station behind her. "Sorry about that sugar, but a girls gotta have something to gossip about." She explained. "Yah. Did you hear about Jenna Rice and Jack Lopz? In the middle of Stellar Cartography! Who would of believed it?" Braistway said. "I know. Can you just imagine Lombardo's face when he found them!" Scorpio laughed. "They won't forget that in a hurry!" In the pilots seat next to Braistway Flash sighed, having had enough 'girly' talk to last him a lifetime. As a Magnoliophyte Orchidaceae (a type of plant), Flash couldn't classify himself as either male or female, but one thing was certain: both sexes never shut up. An alarm on Braistway's panel shook the three of them back to attention. "Detecting a nebula phenomenon a couple light-years starboard, the computer can't recognize it. Flash, bring us round for a closer look, but don't get too close. Doctor, scan for any nearby ships or message buoys, make sure there isn't anything dangerous happening round here." A couple of 'Yes sirs' told Braistway the two were getting on with their tasks, as she focused on finding out what the weird nebula was. Roughly a million kilometres in diameter and variety of unknown particles told her it was nothing like anything she'd seen before. "Can't find anything Leanne." "We are at a full stop two thousand kilometres from the phenomenon. Bringing tactical shields online." Flash said. "Flash, have a look at these scans, see what you make of them." Braistway said. "Doctor, send a quick message off to the ship, tell Reimann where we're at and what we've found. Send our preliminary scans along as well." "Message away." Scorpio reported. "Braistway!" Flash shouted, as suddenly the nebula jumped forward towards the raceabout. "Evasive! Get us out of here!" Braistway shouted, but it was too late. She looked around as the nebula engulfed them, and was then blinded by a flash of light. "Come on Giuseppi, let's go have a good time." Lucas Rascamontes, helmsman of the SS Hansean, said to the ship's sensor specialist Giuseppi Lombardo. The two of them were standing outside a doorway with a big neon flashing sign on top, showing the words "Tempest Bar". From inside some heavy dance music sounded, and several Antideans were walking into the club. The Hansean had arrived at Antidea II a day earlier and was in the process of unloading it's cargo, several tonnes of Strepsils, which meant that Lombardo and Rascamontes had nothing to do on board. After much convincing Rascamontes had been able to get Lombardo down to a club on the planet, and were about to enter. "I don't know, all those people..." "You'll have a great time, come on!" Rascamontes said, taking Lombardo by the arm and dragging him past the bouncers and into the club. As they entered they were met by the heavy atmosphere of smoke and strobe lighting, and Rascamontes led Lombardo straight to the bar. Ordering drinks, Rascamontes started talking to a bikini-clad Romulan, leaving Lombardo standing around, looking awkward. A female Antidean (he was guessing it was a she, how do you tell with fish?) walked up and started hitting him. A couple drinks later, Rascamontes was on the dance floor, oblivious to where Lombardo was. The last time he'd seen him he was still with that Antidean bird, completely drunk and dancing his heart out. He didn't think about him again, partly because he didn't think anything bad could happen, but mostly because that Romulan girl was REALLY hot. Anyway, they were on a friendly planet, what could happen to them? Leanne Braistway looked all around her, taking in the view. She found herself standing, outside of the raceabout, in a park. The weather was typical of the height of summer: the warm sun beared down on them and the green scenery of grass, beaches, willows and flowers surrounded them. The park was intersected by various sandy paths, and several ducks swam in a pond, the water a resplendent blue. East of the park were some gates, leading out into a suburban town. "Flash, where the frick are we?" Braistway asked. "One does not know." Flash replied, taking in the scenery equally confused. "Well I'm fairly sure we haven't died and gone to heaven." Dr. Scorpio added, standing next to GorDonTer. "In my dreams Tom Jones was always waiting for me here." "Tom who?" Braistway asked. "Oh, just the sexiest man to have ever existed." Dr. Scorpio said wistfully, lost in a daydream. Braistway shook her head and turned to Flash. "Let's just go over what happened. We were in the raceabout when we come across this nebula thing in our path. We stop, and the next thing we know it jumps us, and we're in this freaky place." "One remembers the same." Flash said. "It appears nebulas don't seem to like us." he added, reminding them of the time they had first boarded their new ship, the Hansean, only to have to deal with an overzealous cloud of gas looking for friendship. It had managed to kill several of the crew and beam down to Earth threatening a village before it had been stopped. "Yah, I'm starting to get a bit pissed off at them now." Braistway agreed. "Listen, let’s head out of the park and see if we can't find someone, try and find out what's happened." "Agreed." Flash said following Braistway towards the park gates. "Doctor?" It said, noticing that Scorpio wasn't following them. She flinched as she heard Flash's voice, breaking her out of her daydream. "Oh, sorry, I..." "You were dreaming about your boyfriend, we know. Come on." Braistway said and Dr. Scorpio blushed. They headed out of the park. "Oh my head!" Lombardo groaned, trying to shift his body weight without setting off the thousands of needles of pain that were boring into his head. Where was he? He tried to remember the events of the night before, but this only served to intensify his headache. What a hangover! He turned his head left, and came face to face with that of an Antidean. A female Antidean. "Hey there handsome." The Antidean smiled at him. Lombardo suddenly noticed he wasn't wearing any clothes. "Arrggghhh!" Lombardo screamed, falling out of the bed, taking the covers with him to hide is nudity. He noticed the Antidean was wearing something at least, he took it to be a nightgown. "You certainly did drink a lot last night, and I think I might just have the perfect hangover cure." The Antidean said as she crawled seductively towards him over the bed. Lombardo backed away, turning extremely white. "Ah, playing hard to get, wonderful husband of mine!" The Antidean giggled in expectation, jumping off the bed and across the room where she pushed the quivering Lombardo up against the wall. "Husband?" He asked, scared. "Of course." The Antidean said, in between kisses. "We got married last night! Vows of undying love, it was so romantic!" Lombardo screamed like a little girl. Braistway, Flash and Dr. Scorpio headed out of the park and kept walking straight. It was only quick reactions that saved them as they jumped backwards out of the way of an incoming jeep. "Morons!" The driver shouted at them as he drove past. "Freak!" Braistway shouted after him, though she took resolved to more care when crossing a road. Once they were on the other side of the pavement they stopped outside a small path which led up to a large rectangular building. Next to the path was a large sign. “Green Meadows Retirement Home.” Braistway read the sign. “Might as well try in here, they’re bound to have somebody intelligent in charge.” She led the way up the path and into the building, glass doors parting to let her into a reception area. A disinterested woman sat behind a welcome desk, chewing some gum and reading a magazine. Noticing the new arrivals with distaste she put the magazine down on her desk and looked up at them. “How can I help?” She asked, though she looked as if helping them was the last thing on her mind. “I’m sorry, but where are we?” Braistway asked, deciding she’d get more answers being polite. “Can’t you read the sign outside? You’re at the Green Meadows Retirement Home.” “Oh, right.” Braistway replied. A short burly woman appeared from a door behind the receptions and fixed a stare on Braistway, Flash and Dr. Scorpio, as if demanding them their reasons for breaking the quiet of the Retirement Home. She was wearing a dark blue nurses outfit and a scowl on her face. “Who are you here to visit?” she asked. “Errr…we’re here, errr, for…” Braistway struggled. “You must be those volunteers from that new initiative. ‘Cherishing the Elderly’. Honestly, I haven’t heard so much crap before.” She snorted, walking off towards a room right of the reception. Braistway and Co remained at the reception desk, dumbfounded. “Well come on then, you must be eager to go, the sooner you begin the quicker you’ll finish, I imagine.” This time Braistway, Flash and Dr. Scorpio followed the matron who kept on babbling about goodie-goodies wasting her time and people who, if they really cared about old people, would look after them themselves instead of coming in for one afternoon a week to entertain them. She finally stopped next to some red double doors, a plaque nailed above them indicating that they led into the ‘Rec Room’. “You know where the exit is when you want to run away.” The matron finished derisively, and left to moan at someone else. Braistway looked at Flash and Dr. Scorpio, shrugged, and pushed open the doors. Lombardo collapsed onto the toilet, lid down, and focused on not crying and trying to find a way to get out of there, or at least call for some help. He’d managed to escape his ‘wife’ by saying he really really needed to use the toilet, and she’d let him escape while she decided to put what she described as her lacy number. From a quick scan around the bathroom he guessed that he was in her house: there was a pink bathrobe hanging on the door and various girlish grooming products spread throughout the shelves. He picked up one or two of the products, trying to read the labels, but was unable to and promptly gave up. At least it had taken his mind off things for a moment. But then the hangover returned, as well as the worrying thoughts regarding the situation he’d got himself into. “Yoo-hoo! I’m waiting here sexy!” His ‘wife’ called from the bedroom, and Lombardo cringed. It was at this, his lowest moment, that he spotted his trousers, hanging from the shower railing. He dived towards them, pulling them into his reach and stuck his hands in his pockets. Yes! It was there! Triumphant he pulled his communicator from the left pocket, an old-style flip-communicator from circa 2280. He just loved the styling of it. Flipping it open he whispered into the communicator so that she couldn't hear him. “Lombardo to Rascamontes, come in Lucas, I needy help!” Lucas Rascamontes woke up with a killer headache, which was not helped by his communicator beeping loudly in his left hand. Opening his eyes he was nearly blinded as the early morning sun burned holes into his retina. Shielding himself with his hand, he looked around. He had no idea where he was, except that he was lying in the gutter of a back street. He looked at himself and saw that he was only wearing a woman’s thong, covering his privates, and felt something on his head. He pulled it off and discovered he’d been wearing his own boxers as a hat. And in his other hand, still beeping and vibrating crazily, was his communicator. “Man, it must have been a great night!” He muttered to himself. Focusing on the communicator he gave the verbal command to answer the incoming call. “Lucas, I really needy your helpie!” Lombardo’s desperate Italian accent came out of the communicator. “Giuseppi, man! What’s up!” Rascamontes said. “Crazy night huh?” “Lucas, I’m in serious trouble!” “Trust me, it can’t be as bad as me. I just woke up right, with my boxers on my head and wearing a woman’s…” “Lucas, I don’t knowie how, but I gotie married! To a fishy-woman.” Lombardo cried. Rascamontes was left absolutely speechless. Braistway pushed the doors open and walked through into the ‘Rec Room’. For a retirement home it looked perfectly normal: a load of comfortable armchairs, a screen flickered in the corner with some kind of soap opera and a couple old people creaked around the room. Perfectly normal, for a retirement home. But then Braistway paid more attention to the people. They weren’t normal. They were definitely not normal. Over at a chess set, a large pair of lips was playing against an old woman as an eyeball looked on interested. Over by one of the large armchairs a man identical in appearance to Q, but with light gray hair, used his Zimmer frame to move towards the television. And next to a window, on a sofa, an elderly Benjamin Sisko was talking to a man dressed as if he’d come straight out of classical Greece. “What the frick!” Braistway shouted. All activity in the room ceased as everyone turned to stare at Braistway, and as one, they all began moving (albeit at an extremely slow pace) towards her, as zombies would trudge towards fresh brains. Flash and Dr. Scorpio walked into the room and stood beside Braistway astounded. Eventually the elderly inhabitants of the retirement home clustered around them, forming a semi-circle. “Who the frick are you?” Braistway asked. “I mean, aren’t you a Critic and a Director?” she motioned towards the pair of lips and the eyeball. “And aren’t you Q?” she asked the owner of the Zimmer frame closest to her. “Q! Q? Oh, I hate those self-centered…” “There, there, calm down P.” One of the old women next to him said, patting him on the back and leading him away from the group towards an armchair. Braistway just looked more confused than ever. “Don’t you know where you are?” One of the old men asked. He was dressed as if he was out of an 18th century court room or a 1960’s music video: his Elvis style white hair was matched in colour by a frilly white shirt, on top of which he wore a long blue coat filled with golden lace. Sensing that Braistway was still confused he continued speaking. “This is a retirement home, for special beings. Very special beings.” He swept his arm around, indicating his fellow retirees. “We are all omnipotent.” “Omnipotent?” Dr. Scorpio asked. “Doesn’t that mean you shouldn’t age? You’re immortal!” “Immortal, yes, we are. But that does not prevent the effects of aging from affecting us.” The man in the blue coat explained sadly. “Once, we were young, and, well, omnipotent. The universe was our playground, we did as we pleased. But, as all good things must, it came to an end. Other omnipotent beings, far younger than ourselves, stuck us in this prison, and so here we remain, living out eternity with the comforts of IV food drips and bingo. Take him for example,” the man said, pointing at the one who resembled Q. “He was a member of a race called the P. The P managed to reach a stage in social and biological development where, as a race, they managed to evolve into the Q. P here however was too old to go through the transformation, so they stuck him in here. So sad, they only bother coming to visit him once every few thousand years.” “The Sisko does not age. The Sisko is not linear.” The old Benjamin Sisko said with an air of authority. “Shut up Benjamin, you’re just as senile as the rest of us.” The eyeball said, visibly annoyed. “The Sisko does not like you.” Sisko replied, shuffling off with the help of a walking stick to claim one of the comfortable arm chairs. “So you like it here? With that bossy matron?” Braistway asked. The elderly omnipotent beings looked at each and shrugged. “Hey, it’s a life.” The Critic replied for all of them. “The Sisko does not like it here!” “Hey, I said shove it Sisko!” the eyeball cried. “So you just going to spend the rest of eternity here, playing bingo and having afternoon naps?” Braistway mused. “What a bummer.” “Hey, we’ve seen the universe, it ain’t that exciting.” The old man dressed in a classical Greek toga remarked. “Here we get our food mashed for us. You should try it some time, so much less effort.” “Hey! McGyver's starting!” One of the old women shouted, and the rush began, all of the elderly omnipotents racing to get one of the comfortable chairs close to the TV. “So what’s the plan honey?” Dr. Scorpio asked. “We need to get some more answers, like how we ended up here.” Braistway answered. “But first we watch McGyver.” Rascamontes walked up to door 34A in the apartment block and pressed the bell. Lucky their communicators had a GPS installed, or he never would have been able to find where Lombardo was. It was only as the door opened that he thought about his appearance, and the first impression he was about to make: he was still only wearing a pink woman’s thong and his boxers on his head. The door opened to reveal a female Antidean wearing little more than he currently had on, and Rascamontes recognized her as the one from the club that had been dancing with Lombardo the previous night. “Yes?” She asked, surprised to find someone at her door. Or maybe she was simply surprised at what he was wearing. “Hi, I’m a friend of the groom? Wanted to give you two my congratulations on your recent union.” He said, only just managing to stop himself laughing. What a mess Lombardo had got himself into! “Oh, thanks!” the Antidean said, blushing. “Come in, he’s in the bathroom, he should be out in a second.” She ran a finger down Rascamontes’ exposed chest. “Maybe you could stay and the three of us could have a little…celebration.” She added suggestively. “Errr…maybe.” Rascamontes said, quickly moving into the house and away from her. “Listen, we’re old pals, brothers even, he won’t mind if I just go in.” He said, pushing the bathroom door open and shutting it quickly behind him. Inside he found Lombardo waiting impatiently for him, having availed himself of a towel to cover as much of himself up as possible. “Oh thankie, thankie!” Lombardo said, grabbing Rascamontes in a hug. “Schwe need to getie out of here!” “Hey, nice score.” Rascamontes laughed. “You even remember what her name is?” “What? It doesn’t matter! Just help me to getie rid of her!” “Sure, sure. Did you really get married?” “Yessy, have you seen this?” Lombardo said, holding up his right hand. The wedding ring was visible for all to see. “I’ve never seenie it before in my life, and she has a matching one. Ugh!” “Okay, you want a divorce.” “Yessy! I don’t want to be married!” “Just to make sure.” Rascamontes took a deep breath and moved back towards the door. “Come on then, time to face the music.” With McGyver finished the elderly omnipotents returned to their previous activities. Seeing as he had been the most helpful of them Braistway and Co found the man in the blue coat, who they’d found out was called Trelane, and started talking with him again. “So how do we get out of here?” Braistway asked. “I don’t know. How did you come in?” Trelane countered. “Wish we knew.” Braistway sighed. “I still can’t believe you guys like it here. I mean you’re omnipotent!” “Yah, well, you’d be surprised how boring it can get, being eternal and all that. You can only play Who Wants to be a Millionaire so many times before you learn all the answers off by heart.” “Listen, I’ve got a proposition.” Braistway said. “We bust you out of this joint, and you guys use your magic powers and send us back where we belong.” “Why would we want to leave? We’re perfectly happy here!” Trelane said. “Dinner time!” The Matron shouted as she entered, pushing in a metallic gray trolley with several plates and a large saucepan. “Soup’s here!” Delighted that his dinner had arrived Trelane left Braistway and joined the others as they formed a queue at the trolley. P had managed to get himself at the front of the queue and was the first to receive food. As he was handed a bowl he stared into its contents. “Cabbage Soup? Again?” he asked, disgusted. Hearing this moans erupted from the queue as the elderly omnipotents complained about the food. “That soup is disgusting!” Trelane shouted from the back of the queue. “The Sisko is allergic to cabbage soup!” "Well guess where I'm gonna shove that soup up then Sisko!" The eyeball shouted, though he was the only one shouting at someone other than the Matron. “Guess the food ain’t that great, eh, sugar?” Dr. Scorpio whispered to Braistway. Silently she agreed. “Hey, you’ll eat what’s given to ya! All of it! Or no McGyver tomorrow!” Matron shouted, and everyone else became quiet. “That’s better. Next!” She said as P shuffled off ungratefully and was replaced by another resident who reluctantly accepted their bowl of cabbage soup. Minutes later Trelane trudged back over to Braistway, bowl of cabbage soup in his hands. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” “So basically he doesn’t want to be married, he wants to get a divorce. He only got married in the first place because he was drunk.” Rascamontes finished explaining to the sullen Antidean. Tears had begun forming in her eyes. “The last guy said that, and the one before that.” She said sadly, staring down at the floor. She looked up at Lombardo, who in turn quickly looked away, avoiding her gaze. “Okay, we’ll get divorced.” She stood up and took Lombardo’s hands in hers, looking into his face. “But remember this, I will always love you!” “Yah, brilliant.” Rascamontes said. “So how do we do this divorce thing? Sign some papers at a local office?” “Oh no, it’s far more complex than that!” She replied, far too enthusiastically. “First you have to find a second witness for the divorce, someone connected with the husband and of a high rank. Then we must go to the Genesis Vents, where it is rumored life began! A priest will perform a ceremony, at a discount for me of course, I know him well, and we’ll be divorced. No longer married.” She said the last sentence quite sadly, the previous enthusiasm disappearing as she realised she’d be getting divorced. Again. “We needy someone of a high rank?” Lombardo asked. His ‘wife’ nodded in reply, standing up and staring out the window. Lombardo turned to stare at Rascamontes, who shrugged back at him. “Well, I guess the Captain was going to find out sooner or later.” Captain Klaus Reimann stood in Transporter Room One. He was not impressed. Standing on the transporter pads were two of his senior officers, one wearing only a towel, the other wearing a pink woman’s thong and his boxer shorts over his head. “Please don’t tell me, I just don’t want to know.” He said as they descended the steps to join him. “Captain, we kind of need your help with something.” Rascamontes said. Reimann noticed Lombardo moving so that Rascamontes stood between himself and the Captain. "What happened?" Reimann said, bringing his hand up to rest his head in. "Well, we were out last night, drinking you know." Rascamontes paused. Reimann nodded for him to continue. "Anyway, we both had quite a bit to drink, at this bar called the Tempest, they had a brilliant DJ. You should go there sometime, you'd have a great time. Anyway, to make a long story short, Giuseppi got married to an Antidean accidentally and now we need your help to get him divorced." Reimann stared at Lombardo, who tried to hide further behind Rascamontes while turning a bright shade of red. "You got married?" Reimann asked, and laughed when Lombardo nodded his head in the affirmative. He was about to ask the poor guy how he could help when a loud beep from his communicator signaled the bridge was trying to get in touch with him. "Reimann here." "Captain, it's Henry. We just received a transmission from Braistway and the Celduin about coming across this nebula, and then they disappeared. We can't pick them up on scanners. They've gone Captain." "Gone? What do you mean gone?" "One moment we had them, the next we didn't. And we can't detect their ion trail leading away from their last position. They just went." "Gone where?" Reimann mused. "A raceabout doesn't just disappear like that." "Yes sir." Henry agreed on the other end of the line. "Shall we begin disembarkation procedures and plot a course?" Reimann turned to look at Lombardo, who looked mortified at the idea of leaving the system while he was still married to the Antidean. "Yes, but I've got some business to attend to on the planet. I want the ship ready to leave by the time I return." He closed the channel and walked up to the transporter pad. "Well, come on then, we haven't got all day." Reimann told Rascamontes and Lombardo, who joined him on the transporter pad, standing either side of him. "Energize." Several of the elderly omnipotents clustered round Braistway as she outlined the escape plan for them. "Right, this is the plan. When we came in I noticed a minivan parked outside the entrance, I'm guessing it belongs to the Retirement Home. That's our way out. Trelane, it's going to be your job to distract the Matron, find her and tell her that Sisko's had an accident and wet himself or something." "The Sisko does not wet himself." Sisko said, disgruntled. "Yeah, right." The eyeball said sarcastically, and Sisko glared at it. "That's not important. What's important is that she'll come into the Rec Room to sort the problem out. When she comes in myself and Flash will grab her and Dr. Scorpio will pour a drink down her throat into which we'll mix some of your medicines, it'll knock her straight out. With Matron asleep for a couple hours all we have to do is wait for the receptionist to go on a toilet break, which has got to be every five minutes considering the amount of coffee she drinks, and the coast is clear. Can any of you drive?" Braistway asked. One of the elderly beings raised her hand. "Fantastic. We all jump into the van and with all aboard we escape to freedom. Any questions?" There were none. It only took a few minutes for Dr. Scorpio to find the correct mix of drugs to knock the Matron out. Everyone got ready in their planned positions and Trelane shuffled out of the room in search of the Matron. Moments later Matron burst through the doors as angry as Braistway had seen her with another attendant they hadn’t been planning on. Quickly grabbing the Matron by herself as Dr. Scorpio forced the liquid down her mouth Flash took care of the unexpected attendant by unceremoniously bashing him over the head with a nearby wooden chair, knocking him unconscious. Seconds later the Matron stopped struggling in Braistway’s grip and fell limp. “He’s gonna have a headache in the morning.” Dr. Scorpio remarked, quickly checking over the attendant. Positive that a large bump on the head would be the only result from his encounter with the chair she got up and peered out of the ‘Rec Room’. “Quick, the receptionist’s just left.” She said. “Okay, let’s move it people!” Braistway said, motioning for the elderly omnipotents to start leaving the room. Flash took point, moving down the corridor in a crouch looking out for any unexpected obstacles with Scorpio and Braistway bringing up the rear, behind the last elderly omnipotent. Much too slowly for Braistway’s liking they went out the Retirement Home’s main door and congregated around the minivan. It was painted white with the Home’s logo on the sides and small, though just big enough to accommodate all the escapees. It took no time for Flash to break into the minivan, his brute strength forcing the front passengers door open, and they all piled in, Braistway riding shotgun with their designated driver taking up position behind the steering wheel. “Okay, everybody aboard? Let’s blow this place!” Braistway shouted, looking at their driver. She was the epitome of the friendly grandmother: she had short curly white hair, some banana earrings and was wearing a purple knitted cardigan. “What’s your name again?” “Oh, hi, I’m Maija.” “Isn’t that nice. Well Maija, whenever you’re ready.” Braistway said, pulling on her seatbelt. “Okay, hold on everybody! I haven’t done this for a while!” Maija shrilled and pressed down on the accelerator. The minivan darted forward like a bat out of hell. Any thoughts of this being a simple procedure abandoned Rascamontes’ head as soon as he found out where the divorce ceremony had to take place. When they had beamed back down to the planet they’d introduced Reimann to Lombardo’s wife, who they learned was actually called Frida, and set off for the Genesis Vents. First they’d had to walk down to the local marina, a short ten minutes away, and find a submarine taxi and a driver willing to take them to one of the many sub-aquatic cities dotted around the planet. Once they’d done that and endured the half hour ride to Acushnet Town, and declining the offer of a guided tour from Frida, they had jumped on a public transportation submarine en route to the Genesis Vents. And now they were standing in the queue before the ticket office, their feet starting to hurt as they moved past the ‘Four hours queuing from here’ sign. “I can’t believe the number of people here! They can’t all be getting divorced!” Reimann exclaimed. “No, just a few of them will be. Most of them will be tourists, others coming to get married here.” Frida explained. “It’s a very popular place.” “Yah, well, we aren’t exactly hot on time here.” Reimann remarked. He had half a mind to send the Hansean off to search for the missing shuttle by itself, but three of the people you’d most need for a search of a lost vessel were down here now on the planet: her captain, helmsman and sensors specialist. “Hey, Giuseppi, did you know you’d be expected to carry your babies around in your mouth while they developed?” Rascamontes remarked. As they had been queuing he’d been reading various leaflets on offer about Antidean culture: this one on reproduction. Lombardo didn’t reply with any understandable words, just a growl aimed in Rascamontes general direction. Although a vast majority of the tourists waiting to get into the Genesis Vents were Antidean, there were also a number from other races of the quadrant. A few places ahead a pair of Klingons were practicing their Opera singing as they queued, and further on down a group of Starfleet Cadets and their instructor waited, shooting odd looks at Lombardo and Rascamontes. While Reimann and Frida were respectably dressed, Lombardo still only had a towel on, while Rascamontes continued wearing his pink woman’s thong and his boxer shorts on his head. They’d already passed a gift shop, but they were devoid of money and Reimann and Frida refused to buy them any of the t-shirts on offer, so they had to endure the odd looks from those waiting around them. Reimann sighed and resigned himself to another four hours of queuing. Megan Hartley walked through the doors of the Green Meadows Retirement Home closely followed by her husband Mirk Hartley, who was carrying with him a large basket of fruit and the Who Wants to be a Millionaire board game. “Hello? We’re here for the ‘Cherishing the Elderly’ thing?” Megan Hartley said in the direction of the woman sitting behind the reception desk. In reply she waved in the general direction of the ‘Rec Room’. “Yah, thanks, we’ve been here before.” The Hartleys set off down the corridor, the fruit basket balancing dangerously in Mirk’s arms above the board game. Megan pushed open the doors to the ‘Rec Room’ and walked into an empty room. “Hey, where’ve they all gone?” Mirk asked surprised as he joined his wife. “I don’t know, but seeing as I’m giving up one afternoon every week of my eternal life to bring some happiness into their lonely and depressing lives you’d think they’d be polite enough to be here for it.” She replied bitterly. “Well, at least we won’t have to put up with Sisko again.” Mirk remarked. “Come on, let’s take the fruit basket and go watch the Lion King again.” “Oh Mirkles, you know me so well.” Megan said, rubbing her nose against Mirk's. With a loud pop the two of them disappeared, leaving the room empty again. The ‘Who Wants to be a Millionaire’ board game clattered to the floor, unwanted. “Where the frick we heading?” Braistway asked terrified, grabbing anything within reach to steady herself as Maija weaved the minivan in and out of traffic like a Formula 1 driver. “I have no idea, but I haven’t had this much fun in years! Wheeee!” Maija screamed as she squeezed the minivan between a sports car and an articulated truck coming in the opposite direction. “Look, there’s a services stop with a restaurant and a casino and stuff over there, let’s find out where we are and where we’re going!” Braistway said, nodding towards a blue sign advertising a motorway rest area. From the seats behind them Dr. Scorpio poked her head into the front. “That’d be a good idea dear, some of the people back here aren’t taking your driving style that well.” “Tell them to hang on to their stomach’s, we’ll be stopping in two minutes okay!” Braistway shouted more for the benefit of the entire minivan than directly to Dr. Scorpio. “The Sisko is not enjoying this, The Sisko gets car sick very easily!” Sisko shouted back. “Hey, for once I agree with the moron…” The eyeball added, though its reply was cut short when The Sisko threw up all over him. Two minutes later Braistway had never been so glad to get out of a vehicle in her life. “Finally!” Rascamontes exclaimed as they reached the front of the queue. “I’ll have four tickets for the Genesis Vents please.” “That’s 45 Federation Credits, or 17 slips of latinum. We also accept Bolian Sheks, Romulan Trats, Canadian Dollars, Cardassian Ghets and Sheliak Knee Caps. I’m afraid we don’t accept MasterCard.” The Antidean at the till said, printing off the tickets. Rascamontes went to take out his wallet, and then remembered what he was wearing. He stood aside and a sighing Reimann paid for the tickets. “Let’s try and get this over and done with quickly please.” Reimann said. “Frida, would you be so kind as to lead us to where-ever we need to go?” “Certainly Captain!” Lombardo’s soon to be ex-wife said, getting extremely close to Reimann. Braistway, closely followed by Flash and Dr. Scorpio, wandered into the rest area’s shop, with several of the senile omnipotent beings trailing behind. Spotting a shelf full of various books Braistway went over, quickly finding an A to Z of the area. “Okay, we can buy this and give it to that Trelane guy alongside the van we’ve hijacked and a full tank, and we’ve done our bit of the deal. We got them out of that retirement house, they can use their wonderfully fantastic powers to get us back to where we were.” Braistway said. “I don’t knoq honey, this just don’t all add up for me.” Dr. Scorpio said. “I mean, if these guys can magic us back, how they haven’t magicked themselves out of that place long before we arrived?” “What am I, the fountain of all knowledge?” Braistway replied. “And I don’t particularly care either. All I want is to get back to the raceabout and a load of normal space, thank you very much.” “One has to agree with the Doctor.” Flash added. “As far as one knows they could be the one’s who brought us here, it is not uncommon for omnipotent beings to use ‘inferior’ races as play things to amuse themselves with.” “Well one way or another we’ll find out in a bit.” Braistway said. “I’ll go talk to Trelane and tell him we’ve done our business here, that it’s time for him to do his. And if he refuses…” Braistway trailed of. “And if I refuse?” Trelane asked playfully, having sneaked up behind Braistway. “Then I’ll take that big omnipotent smile off your face and stuff it up your…” “Hey, hey, no need for that.” Trelane said still smiling, though he was starting to back away slowly from Braistway’s ire. “So? You going to magic us out of here?” Dr. Scorpio pressed, only to be interrupted by a cry from the shop’s counter. “Hey! I’ve won!” came the shout from the corner of the shop. Braistway, Dr. Scorpio, Flash and Trelane whirled round to confront the source of the commotion, finding P with one hand on his zimmer frame using his other hand to wave a scratch card around in the air. “Three Liberty Bells! I’ve won!” “What the frick’s happened now?” Braistway asked. “Congratulations sir, may I see the scratch card?” A man behind the shop counter said. P handed over the scratch card and, having confirmed that P had been speaking the truth, the man started counting out the money the old omnipotent had won. “Fantastic! P strikes again!” P shouted, dancing around his zimmer frame. “There you go sir, congratulations and enjoy the money.” “Money! Money! Money! Money! Money!” P sang as he continued to dance. “If sir’s luck is up may I suggest the Red Belt Casino next door? You’ve already won a bit today, imagine how much more you could win at the machines and tables there?” “Yes! Money! Casino! Thank you!” P stopped dancing and dashed out the door, much faster than Braistway had ever seen him move. “Oh no you don’t!” she scrammed, trying to run after P. Frick knows how much damage the guy could do if set loose. “Should of kept the lot of them locked up in the van.” She mused as she sprinted towards the shop doors. “Are you going to pay for that?” A burly security guard said stepping between her and the doors. “Pay for what?” Braistway asked back, then remembered she was still holding the A to Z she’d picked up off the shelf. “Yah, I’ll get it later, but I really need to stop that guy. Now shift it.” Braistway tried to move past the security guard but he remained firm. “No way past madam. Will you please accompany me to the security office for a private word?” “Oh now you’ve done it.” Braistway said. She could no longer keep a lid on the pent up anger and rage harbouring inside her: the stupid retirement home, the senile omnipotent beings and their constant moaning, that bloody P and his scratch card. And the security guard was the last straw. “Now you’ve certainly done it.” Leanne Braistway got angry. "Wow!" Trelane said, running alongside Braistway. "I mean, wow!" "Honey, remind me never to piss you off." Dr. Scorpio added, jogging up just behind her. "Shouldn't you be doing your doctoring thing right about now?" Braistway said. "Well, yeah. But wow! And the guy had it coming." Dr. Scorpio replied. "One was not aware you could squeeze an A to Z that far up a persons left nostril." Flash observed. "Listen, medical opinion: it shouldn't even be possible, no way his nasal cavity's big enough to fit an entire A to Z in it." Dr. Scorpio again. "You sure the guy'll be okay?" Trelane asked. "Should be, he can still breath through his mouth and one of the nostrils and it don't seem to have reached the brain...I think. The guy's gonna have a hell of a headache though. But Leanne, how'd you..." "There are means and ways Doctor, means and ways." Braistway replied, pushing open the doors to the Red Belt Casino to which P and several other of the elderly omnipotent beings had fled. Arrayed before her were hundreds of slot machines, each manned by a gray haired pensioner. "I am definitely not having a good day." she complained out loud. Lombardo stood awkwardly in the centre of a blue circle as the Antidean Ceremonial High Priest walked around him occasionally hitting him round the head with a large wet trout. "Is this really necessary?" Rascamontes asked Reimann, standing outside the semi-circle. "Oh yes." the captain replied. "Antidean marriage and divorce rituals are incredibly interesting and often heavy on the being hit by a fish routines." “Right.” Rascamontes replied. Eventually the priest seemed to get tired of hitting Lombardo with the trout, and replaced it with a smaller herring, which he then used to slap the assorted guests of the divorce ritual. By the time the priest put down the herring Rascamontes, Reimann, Lombardo’s soon to be ex-wife Frida, some interested tourists and a very confused employee selling salmon-burgers and hot dogfish were grimacing with pain from the repeated slapping. Motioning Lombardo and Frida forward to join him, the Ceremonial High Priest began speaking. “Millions of years ago life was not as it is known. The Great Oceans were empty and no foot walked on Dry Land. Then the Great Fish, in all It’s wisdom, breathed life with water, and our ancestors flocked to this heat. Dee the Ancestral Trout and Ann the Generational Herring met at the Vent of Promiscuity, and from this union the Anti were created.” At this point the priest took Lombardo’s and Frida’s hands in his own, lifting first the Antideans hands then the human’s. “But this is not Dee, and this is not Ann. There shall be no union. Let the Anti bonds be broken, as the vents speak!” As the Ceremonial High Priest spoke the last part of the ceremony all eyes turned to the largest vent, forwards of the semi-circle where the Priest and divorcees were present, and the ground began to shake. Braistway stood in the entrance to the Red Belt Casino, scanning the crowds of elderly gamblers before her. “Okay, they’ve gotta be in her somewhere.” She said, still looking. “It can’t be too hard sugar, they don’t move too fast.” Dr. Scorpio added. “We have to find them!” Trelane said, panicked. “I’m responsible for getting them out of the Retirement Home, it’d be my fault if anything happened to them. And the Great Bird knows they need looking after, they could get themselves into all kinds of trouble.” The elderly omnipotent being began to look flustered. “One suggests we split up and reconvene here.” Flash said. “Agreed. I’ll take the one armed bandits, Flash, you and Trelane take the bar and the blackjack tables. Belle, you handle the rest. Let’s move.” Braistway moved off into the countless aisles of spinning machines as the others also moved to their search zones. Flash had long ago lost sight of Trelane after they had split. It had to admit one was extremely confused by the entire situation: nothing in it's experience had prepared him for the events of the last few hours. But as a famous philosophical phrase went: stuff happens. It’d spent five minutes at the bar and it's search unsuccessful had moved on to the blackjack tables. Gambling as entertainment had never become popular on his world, photosynthesizing becoming a much more popular pass-time. Perhaps one would understand these strange faunal games the more time one spent in their company. He was brought out of his thoughts by Trelane, who was waving at him. “Braistway’s found them.” Braistway had pulled P by the ear all the way back to the minivan they’d stolen from the Residence, and after stuffing all the omnipotent beings back inside and locked the door only Trelane stood outside with Braistway, Dr. Scorpio and Flash. “I can’t begin to thank you for this.” Trelane said. “Yah, yah, no problem.” Braistway said. “Now you hold up your part of the deal. Do your magic thing and get us back to where we should be.” “Thank you once more.” Trelane said, and then clicked his fingers. With a pop Braistway, Dr. Scorpio and Flash disappeared. Reimann and everyone else taking part in the divorce ritual started moving backwards, as the earthquakes and sounds that accompanied the heat vents where the ceremony took place continued to increase in size. Many bystanders were already in the process of fleeing as best they could, clogging up the exits. “Is this meant to happen?” Rascamontes screamed in order to be heard above the loud roars. “I get the feeling it isn’t!” Reimann shouted back, reaching for his communicator to ask the Hansean to beam the lot of them to safety. “The vents have never reacted like this before!” The Ceremonial High Priest screamed. “They’re only meant to bubble slightly! Bubble!” The High Priests explanation turned exclamation was brought to a halt however as the sound and earthquakes suddenly ceased. After a few seconds of the pressure inside the vent building up in complete silence, the thin rock formation began to bulge. “That can’t be good.” Rascamontes gasped, and then dove for cover. “…I…we’re back!” Braistway shouted, finding herself seated in the cockpit once again of the Raceabout Celduin. “Flash, Belle?” “One is also present.” “I ain’t leaving without you honey.” “Okay, sensors, where the frick are we. Flash, get on shields and engines, tell me what we’ve got.” Braistway ordered, her fingers already scurrying across the console to bring up the sensor feeds as Flash also set to work. “Errr…Belle, have a look at the sensors would you?” she asked, looking up at the Doctor. “Sure thing sugar…we’re submerged!” Doctor Scorpio shouted unbelieving. “Just making sure I ain’t imagining it.” Braistway replied, attempting to get a hold on the raceabout as water currents dragged it course unknown. “The computer’s lost, doesn’t know where we are.” Doctor Scorpio added. “Where’s that Trelane guy sent us?” “I think we’re about to find out!” Braistway said, staring through the front window. Now visible thanks to the raceabouts headlights were rock walls, encapsulating them closer and closer as they passed through the tunnel. “There’s a light at the end!” Dr. Scorpio shouted, staring at the escape route. “That can’t be good.” Braistway gasped. “Deflectors up, full shields forward! Brace for impact!” The raceabout went through the light. Rascamontes risked looking out from his hiding place, and immediately pulled himself back in. The top of the vent exploded outwards, shards of rocks and stones flying in every direction. And out of the vent, like a phoenix rising from the flames appeared a raceabout, screaming up towards the surface and then into the sky. “That look familiar to you?” Reimann asked, coming out of his hiding place and helping Rascamontes up to his feet. “The raceabout?” “Yes, one of ours. Come on, is he divorced yet?” Reimann asked the High Priest, who still in shock was only able to nod in the affirmative. “Good. Time to get back to the ship, and what I’m sure will be a very interesting story.” The captain opened his communicator and seconds later himself, Rascamontes and Lombardo disappeared in a haze of blue lights. “Well, they were interesting.” Trelane said, relaxing back in his armchair in the Retirement Home. Around him the assorted omnipotent beings also relaxed. “Yeah, got much further than the ones before them. That casino episode was fun.” The eyeball answered. “So, who’s next?” “How about the Borg?” Maija asked. “They’re fun!” “No, remember the last time we had them?” Trelane considered. “That was just plain icky when they tried to assimilate the Director and stuck their tube things in his iris? The Sisko threw up all over me.” At this point The Sisko felt vaguely sick and mumbled a quick apology. “How about some Klingons, they were very interesting last time.” The Director suggested. “Sure.” Trelane said, and clicked his fingers. Somewhere, sometime, a shipful of Klingons were suddenly very very lost. NEXT TIME ON THE INCONGRUOUS VOYAGES: In the third Incongruous Drabble, love is in the air. But who are the lovebirds? And in the next episode, a pirate EMP attack leaves the ship completely powerless, knocking off not only shields and weapons, but the universal translator as well. How can the crew hope to fight back against those who would enslave them and steal all their cargo when they can't even understand each other? "Babel Talk", coming to a website near you, same Traks Time, same Traks Channel!