STAR TRAKS: THE REDISCOVERED COUNTRY

LUCK OF THE IRISH
by RPS


Disclaimer: Once upon a time there was a company called Paramount and Viacom. And they, as well as 
several other things, owns Star Trek which was created by Gene Roddenberry. Once upon a time 
(ironically the same one) there was a man called Alan Decker who owns Star Traks.



 “Captains Log, Date: today. I just received a message from Admiral Wagner. He seemed pretty happy, 
apart from when he shouted at me for continually putting the Date down as today. Apparently some 
nutters at HQ are trying to put a history of Starfleet together, and they can’t put my logs in 
chronological order. Wait one second, did I start by saying today was the Date? Oh crap, computer, 
stop log.” McAllister was about to reach to the wall beside and key the console to delete the 
recording when the comm panel beside him beeped. The silky voice of his alien co-Captain came out.
“Hey smelly, you better get up here. We’ve had an incident.”
“I’m sure you can handle an incident T’Pal.”
“Yes, but its 4 o’clock in the morning, and my shift finished 5 minutes ago and I’m lazy.”
“Isn’t it illogical to be lazy?”
“Its illogical to be on shift at four in the morning sitting in an oversized chair with nothing 
better to do than throwing paper airplanes at Ensign Banks. By the way, I got fifty hits in the 
head, see if you can beat that monkey boy.”
“You’re going down you she-Vulcan!”
“She-Vulcan? What kind of insult is that?”
“Its four in the morning. Anyway, what’s the incident?”
“We have scanned an inhabited planet a couple light-years away. It does not appear in the Vulcan 
Star Charts.”
“Cool. Be a good Vulkie and set a course, I’ll be up there in ten minutes.”


 A shower, a wet towel, two bananas and a fresh uniform (or nine minutes and forty-three seconds) 
later McAllister walked onto the Secondprize’s bridge. T’Pal had already left to sleep, meditate or 
do whatever Vulcans did when they needed rest. In his most commanding voice he asked for a report. 
Leftenant Hasselfree, at the tactical console, answered.
“We’re en route to the uncharted planet, we’ll get there in 4 hours Honeypie.”
“Honeypie?”
“Captain T’Pal ordered us to start calling you Honeypie”
“Well I’m ordering you to stop calling me honeypie. I’ll also order you to start calling her Sweetums. 
Now continue with your report.”
“Okley dokley sir. Banks has gone down to Sickbay, as one of T’Pal’s...sorry, Sweetums airplanes flew 
into his ear. He tried to pull it out himself but its stuck.”
“That it?”
“Yes sir. Other than what I’ve said everyone else seems to be asleep.”
“Fine then. I’m going to my ready room, the ship is yours till I get back.” McAllister left through 
the door to the right, leading him to the shared ready room. He walked in and sat at their desk. It 
was fairly normal, there was a small laptop in the middle, and on the left side there was a model of 
Bugs Bunny. Flanking it on the right of the laptop was T’Pal’s small statue of Surak, about the same 
size as Bugs Bunny. As you might have guessed, Mini-Surak was on T’Pal’s part of the table. He turned 
on the console, and loaded up as many card games as he could find in the ships database.


 Meanwhile on the bridge Hasselfree suddenly realized he’d been given a really crappy job.  Evil 
aliens didn’t attack at 4 in the morning. Subspace anomalies were probably still sleeping in a warm 
bed. There weren’t even any temporal anomalies, and time shouldn’t matter to them. But if there was 
one thing he’d learned from the academy, it was one important word: delegate. Now there was only 
himself, Ensign Deer and Richelieu on left on the bridge. He had no idea how Richelieu, the Captain’s 
dog, had arrived in this highly sensitive area of the ship. An hour ago the Captains dog had walked 
in, strolled around, irritated T’Pal (not like that was hard to do) and tried to get back out, but 
he was too small to reach the button that would open the door. Thinking of the consequences of 
leaving a dog in charge should the Secondprize get stuck in a battle, Hasselfree was about to give 
Deer command when Richelieu looked up at him. Who could say no to those cute ickle puppy eyes? As 
Hasselfree left to run some diagnostics on the torpedo tubes Richelieu jumped up onto the Captain’s 
Chair and started intently at the view screen as the stars flew past. Thus, the most powerful ship 
in the sector was in charge of a canine for three full hours.


 Unable to sleep Dr. Fawqin walked into the mess hall thinking about getting some early breakfast, 
and was surprised to find Ensign Sophie Halbarad picking away at some food on a tray. He approached 
her and she recognised him as he approached.
“Ensign! What brings you here this time in the morning?”
“My shift starts in about an hour. Yourself?” The Doctor only answered with a grunt as he moved over 
to the serving area, dumping onto a plate the remains of last night’s meat course. He sat down opposite 
Halbarad and started dumping the meat down his throat. Realising that conversation wasn’t going to be 
forthcoming while the Doctor ate the helmswoman finished off her remaining scrambled eggs.
“I don’t understand why all you humans get rid of the skins.”
“I’m sorry?” Halbarad asked as the Doctor took a napkin and used it to scrape the last stains of meat 
off his plate, and then proceeded to eat the napkin itself.
“The skins of the animals you eat. You’d be amazed how good a bit of hide in the right sauce tastes 
like. And fish scales! Amazing!”
“Right.” Halbarad was all for meeting new aliens and species and getting along with them and all 
that, just as long as the food was decent. In her opinion, animal skins were right up there with 
sheep eyes and pigs brain.
“It’s a shame, you just haven’t got the teeth for it. I could give you a transplant you know.”
“Doctor?”
“Yeah, teeth transplant. I know we can find a donor with some nice sharp incisors and you’re sorted. 
In fact, I know exactly where we can find such donor.”
“Where?” Halbarad was getting seriously freaked out the possibility of having a teeth transplant, 
however the question just had to be asked.
“Juliet.”
“Whose Juliet?” Once again Halbarad asked, although she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer.
“A Hrondon blood-sucking canine. Absolutely amazing teeth.” Halbarad nearly gagged, but was saved by 
the bell as Fawqin was called to Sickbay for a medical emergency and Halbarad ordered up to the 
bridge. “Think about it Ensign, absolutely amazing teeth.”


 Just under an hour before they arrived at the planet, McAllister appeared back on the bridge. 
After pushing Richelieu off the Captains chair, he sat down. As it was the start of the Alpha Shift, 
the rest of his officers started appearing. Brodeur took up the science console, Hasselfree returned 
to tactical, and Banks also got back, with a large bandage over his ear and bits of paper still 
sticking out. It seemed that whatever Fawqin had tried, it hadn’t worked. For good measure, a couple 
nameless Ensigns also strolled out, and took up positions along some of the minor consoles. 15 minutes 
before entering orbit T’Pal also arrived, and after failing to push McAllister off the Captains chair 
got a stool and sat beside him. 
“Captain, we’ve entered hailing range.” Hasselfree reported from his console. McAllister got up and 
walked towards the view screen, and as quick as a flash T’Pal slid in behind him and sat down in the 
Captains chair.
“Hey now. Just wait a second!” T’Pal just stuck out her tongue in answer. Only because this was a 
momentous occasion, the Secondprizes first peaceful contact with an alien planet, did McAllister 
ignore her. He told Ensign Deer at the communications console to open a channel. This was quickly 
answered, and a picture appeared on the screen. The face was very human. It was ginger, had a beard, 
but no moustache, and laughter sparkled in his mouth and eyes. Nervous, McAllister made the cut sign 
to Deer to tell him to mute the channel and asked his officers on the bridge.
“What the hell do I do now?”
“Say hello.”
“Okay...Deer, put the channel back on.” The alien looked slightly confused, but when the mute was 
taken off a giant grin came back. “Err...Hullo there. I’m Captain McAllister of the Starship 
Secondprize. We came to...err...say hello.”
“Athas! Freagair cara! Ceiliúir! Spás Soitheach, tar an talamh?” McAllister was dumbfounded by the 
alien language. In all the films he’d seen all the aliens spoke English.
“Deer, what did it say?”
“GimmeonesecCap’n. Theyaskustocomeandsee’em.”
“Sorry?”
“Godownansee’emyaknow. Visit’em”
“Could you repeat that?”
“Awaiman, godownan’seetheweirdos.”
“I have no idea....” At this point T’Pal stepped in to clear up the situation.
“They’re asking us to go down to the planet. And its your fault for choosing the  communications 
officer, you should of seen if you could understand his accent before hiring him.”
“Whatever. Deer, T’Pal and Hasselfree, we’re taking a shuttle pod down to the planet. And Deer, 
before we go inform them of our intentions.” McAllister was almost at the door when he turned. 
“Better send them that in a text message.”


 The shuttlepod landed on a small field in a village surrounded by what looked like old Celtic 
buildings. McAllister, Deer and T’Pal climbed out. Banks who had piloted and Hasselfree who was 
arming the weapons in case they needed a quick way out remained in the shuttle pod. The Secondprize 
officers appeared to have landed in the middle of a village green, and aliens crowded round them. 
They were small, none taller than 
four foot, and all had ginger hair and beards, were dressed in green, white and black, and they all 
appeared to be of the same sex. 
“Captain,I’vealteredthecommunicatorthingssotheytranslatefor’us.”
“Say that again?” Once again T’Pal had to step in.
“He said the communicators will act as a translator for us.”
“Ahh good.” One of the aliens form the crowd started moving forward. Even though its hair was ginger 
there were white streaks in it, and the alien used a walking stick to move.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     
“Greetings. I am Muintir Ceallaigh, leader of the Gaeals. What brings you here?”                                                                                                                                                      
“As you might know I’m Captain McAllister. We’re explorers from planet Earth. This planet wasn’t 
present on our charts so we came to have a look.”                                     
“Ohhhhhh, welcome explorers of the stars. Please, let us proceed to the Clan Hall. There is a feast!” 
At the naming of food the Gaeals shouted and rejoiced, followed accordingly by McAllister’s stomach 
growling, signalling that it to was ready for some nourishment.  The entire village seemed to squeeze 
into the hall, where there was plenty of food for everyone, specially game animals such as wild boars 
and a weird bird that tasted like chilli peppers. The feast went on for two hours, during which the 
Secondprize officers talked to the small aliens and learned much about their culture. At the end of 
the feast when all the food had gone the ancient Gaeal who appeared to be the leader of the aliens 
stood up and started talking.
“Gaeals, the time has come. Prepare the iobair!” The rest of the Gales looked around at each other, 
it appeared that the alien leader had said something that had excited the locals and conveniently it 
happened to be the single word the communicators failed to translate. McAllister turned to Deer who 
was sitting beside him.
“Deer, what did he say.”
“OnitCap’n.” Deer pushed a few buttons on the communicator, turned it round and opened it up to 
reveal some wires which he moved about, and put the machine to his ear. When he put it down he’d 
turned white, and gulped before speaking. “Sacrifice. IobairemeansSacrifice.”
“Oh fiddlesticks.” That was all McAllister was able to say before several Gaeals jumped upon him 
and tied the Secondprize officers down.”


 On the Secondprize La Force was in charge when Brodeur reported that the shuttlepod was coming 
back up.
“Ensign, depolarize the hull and open the bay doors.”
“Commander, don’t you think it would be appropriate to hail them and check that it is them?”
“Well who else do you think it would be, the rain monkey from Janus V? Open the damn doors.”
“Yes sir.” Unwillingly Brodeur opened the Shuttlebay doors and looked on as La Force went over to 
his console.
“Activate the video sensors in the shuttlebay. I want to see them getting off.” Brodeur pressed a 
few buttons and on the main viewer a picture of the shuttle pod bay appeared, as the shuttle pod 
was docking. The pod docked as usual, opened its doors, and out came a little figure with ginger hair.
“The Captain must have brought up a guest.” Just as he said this another alien appeared. And another, 
and another, until the room looked to be filled with them. La Force was starting to get suspicious, 
but nothing prepared him for the view of McAllister, T’Pal, Deer, Hasselfree and Banks being pulled 
out by a few of the Gaeals, unconscious and tied up.
“Commander, I think we’re being invaded.”
“Did I ask for your opinion Brodeur?” La Force grunted and slumped down in the Captains chair. At the 
helm Halbarad turned to him.
“Sir, we’ve got to do something about this.”
“Why can’t we just let it be. Maybe if we’re nice and quiet they’ll go away by themselves.”
“Sir....”
“Alright already! Red alert, send down some security teams to deal with them. Lock off deck 6. 
Brodeur, you’re coming with me down to fight the little things. Halbarad, the bridge is yours.”
La Force and Brodeur left the bridge and headed to the armoury to retrieve their weapons. The fight 
for the Secondprize was on.


 Dr. Fawqin was in his sickbay fidgeting with a measuring tape over Juliet, the Hrondon blood-sucking 
canine.
“Perfect fit!” He exclaimed. These would be the perfect fit for Ensign Halbarad’s mouth. The canine’s 
growling however brought him back to reality, as he noticed two small ginger beings sneaking into the 
room. He was about to inquire who they were and how sharp their teeth were, but a third one who had 
sneaked up behind him knocked him out with an oddly shaped piece of wood. 


 “Commander, Checkpoints 3 and 4 have been over-run, and Checkpoint 1 is reporting increased 
activity.”
“Tell everyone to fall back. We’ll get together here, here and here.” La Force pointed at several 
locations on the map of the Secondprize. “Make sure they lock every way off deck 6.” Things were not 
going well. Within minutes of joining the fight Deck 6 of the Secondprize had been lost to the pixie 
invaders, and the little aliens seemed unstoppable. La Force, Fawqin and Brodeur were gathered round 
a deck layout of the Secondprize showing red dots for the Gaeals and blue ones for the Secondprize 
crew, who were valiantly running away from them. Brodeur pointed to a set of dots that were moving 
towards a large room.
“That’s waste disposal, we can’t block off those tubes.” La Force cursed and then decided on a course 
of action.
“Brodeur, us two can take care of it.”
“Us two? I’m the science officer, not bloody Bruce Lee.” La Force grabbed Brodeur by the ear and 
pulled him towards the waste disposal centre.
“Everyone else is busy, scared of doing a little honest work in your life?” The two men jogged to an 
intersection where the waste disposal tubes opened up into the mess hall, which the cook used to get 
rid of any waste food.
“There is officially no way I am climbing down those.” Brodeur managed to say before being pushed head 
first through the chute.


 “Fogha!” Brodeur just had enough time to duck as a Gaeal jumped at him with a terrible battle cry 
as he ran into the waste disposal centre.  Getting out his phase pistol he stunned the alien, and 
turned round to find that La Force had stunned another two.
“Quick, help me seal these ducts.” Racing from one console to another the two officers closed 5 of 
the 6 ducts which came through the centre, leaving only one open. While La Force pressed some buttons 
to close the remaining pipe Brodeur went up to it and looked up and down to see if any more attackers 
were coming. 
Now to talk a little about waste extraction on the ship: any materials that couldn’t be re-used were 
released into space. But of course this couldn’t be done when at Warp speeds, so the computer 
regularly released any waste when the ship had been at impulse speeds for over 120 minutes. As 
luck would have it the two hours were up, and so Brodeur became entrenched with all kinds of waste 
food, useless plastic packaging, excrement and broken equipment. Making sure the duct was finally 
closed La Force nearly fell to the floor laughing, as Brodeur became more and more irritated.
“I’m going to have a shower.”
“You can’t.” La Force managed to get an answer out between laughs. “The ships being overrun by evil 
pixies, we need every man we can get for defence. It’s your duty as a Starfleet officer to defend the 
ship. 
“I don’t care, I’ll resign if I have to. All I want now is a shower.” Still mumbling Brodeur left the 
room and went to his quarters.

 
 Ensign Halbarad was hit in the head and felt herself falling involuntarily to the floor. The first 
thing she thought was:
*Ouch, that hurt!*
As she fell time seemed to slow down. When she felt her knees buckle she thought:
*They just hit me!*
She tried to bring her arms up to stop the fall, but they hung limply at her sides.
*I’m seriously going to hurt whoever hit me!*
Her knees hit the floor.
*I’m going to wipe that stupid smile off their little ginger faces.*
The rest of her body joined her knees on the floor.
*I can’t believe they just hit me!*
As her head hit the floor, darkness came.


 Twenty minutes later Brodeur stepped out of the shower and put on his standard issue Starfleet 
boxers. Going out of the bathroom into his room he went to look for a uniform, but found his quarters 
had been broken into, searched a robbed by someone while he’d been in the shower. The ships science 
officer was incredibly annoyed, not by the fact that his quarters had been so obviously ransacked but 
by the fact he now had to go to his neighbours quarters to ask to borrow a uniform off him. Peeking 
out into the corridor he saw that no one was coming Brodeur ran into the quarters next to his, only 
stopping momentarily to open the door. Surprising he found these quarters also empty, and all the 
clothes of any type were gone. He tried the next quarters, and the next, but there was absolutely 
nothing, and no one was present. By this point he would of put anything on, be it Starfleet uniform 
or polka dot dress. 
The next doors on his way were those of the mess hall. He decided to go in, Brodeur was desperate 
now not for only for clothes, but human company. As far as he’d seen so far, the ship might as well 
have been deserted. There was bound to be someone in the Mess Hall. Unluckily, 
there was not. For what had to be the first time since the ship had started out on its journey the 
Mess Hall was completely devoid of life. Brodeur walked around, there were still half eaten meals 
on the tables, glasses not yet emptied and apples pies yet to find a mouth. Finding a seat he went 
to sit on it, resting his hands on one of the tables, but not finding one. Instead his hand found a 
bottle of tomato ketchup. And weight isn’t something plastic bottles can handle easily. As Brodeurs 
body weight pushed the bottle down ketchup came out the top, hitting him squarely in the eyes forming 
a red line from one side of the face to the other. Going down to his knees Brodeur put his hands to 
his face, attempting to scrape the sauce off. Getting enough off to be able to actually see a bit 
Brodeur saw that the door to the Mess Hall had remained open, and down the corridor leading to it 
were walking 3 Gaeals.
“That’s what happened! The Gaeals must have overrun the ship. And they stole all my clothes! My 
jeans are depending on me!” And with these words Brodeur charged at the Gaeals, who upon seeing him 
ran back to their ship in terror, shouting:
“Balor! Balor the Strong-smiter is coming!” 
“I’ll give you Balor! Get here you stupid alien!” And so the chase began.


 “Captains log, today. The Gaeals are gone, chased off the ship by Mr.Brodeur, the last free crewman. 
I shudder to think that the entire crew could of ended up in one big potato salad. We shall certainly 
be more careful in the future when making first contact with alien species.
All that remains now is for him to get a bloody move on an untie us!”


 “Brodeur! I thought they’d killed you or something. Certainly took you long enough to get to us.”
“I’ve just saved your life, you would do well to show me a little more respect La Force.”  La Force 
just chuckled slightly and moved off to help untie the other crewmembers that had been captured and 
held in a cargo bay with ropes. Feeling his wrists as if they still hurt McAllister and T’Pal came 
up to them.
“Brodeur, how did you get them off the ship?” T’Pal asked, looking up and down at the man that was 
still in his boxers, with bits of ketchup still around his eyes.
"Actually I have no idea. I was in the Mess Hall, I just ran at them and they ran away shouting 
something about a guy called Balor.”
“Ensign, is that tomato ketchup on your face?” Brodeur suddenly became very interested by the floor.
“Err yes Captain, I accidentally got loads around my eyes.”
“That’s what did it then.” McAllister was a bit of an ancient world buff. “These aliens where clearly 
Celtic in origin, I wouldn’t of been surprised if they’d been on Earth before. Anyway, there is a 
legend about an old Celt named Balor or Balar who had a fiery eye that could destroy entire armies. 
I think they mistook you for him.”
“That or they don’t like your boxers.” T’Pal joked. Brodeur had enough time to turn red and run 
back out in search of a uniform before the entire crew started laughing at him.