'Repeat to yourself, it's just a show - I should really just relax.'

- Love Theme From Mystery Science Theatre 3000

Star Trek: The Last Generation created by Leila Fetter & Urac Daria Sigma

With apologies to the late Great Bird of the Galaxy, Gene Roddenberry

The Compromise sailed through the night of space. On the bridge, the crew looked with awe at the amazing things they were seeing.

A dozen chocolate rabbits bounded past, with James Earl Jones shooting at them with a piece of carrot.

Peter Davison, in his fifth Doctor costume complete with celery stick, materialised the TARDIS in the middle of an ocean of custard, looked perplexed, and left again.

The Beatles drove past in a yellow kombi, with the Mona Lisa and Queen Victoria chasing them, screaming like crazed fans. Elvis stuck his head out of one of the back windows, said 'Uh-huh-huh', and turned into a pink jellybean.

They came across a planet made entirely of dough-nut, with Homer Simpson taking massive bites out of it.

And in the middle of it all was a figure, somehow directing what was going on. It was someone she recognised but couldn't quite place.

Just a minute! Wasn't he--

'Time to get up!' Ratbat sauntered into the Counsellor's quarters.

She started awake, and looked around, bemused. 'Hang on! I was...don't you...' She paused to collect herself. 'What time is it?'

'Quarter to nine.'

Leila groaned. 'Gordon Bennett! It's still the middle of the night. If only you'd let me finish that dream, it was really bizarre.'

Ratbat shrugged. 'It's time for you to get up! I've already been up...'

'Yeah, yeah, I know, you've already been up for two hours and forty-seven minutes, blah, blah, blah. I don't do mornings as well as you, remember?'

Ratbat laughed. 'Get up, lazy! Then you can tell me all about that dream.'

Leila paused in the act of getting out of her bed. 'No, don't worry. It was just silly.'

Later, on the bridge, Euan finally beat Terri at Scrabble. She frowned at the board. 'What on earth is a quetzal?'

'It's a kind of bird,' he replied smugly. 'On a triple word score, and with a fifty-point bonus for using up all my letters makes...ooh, lots, I'd say.'

Terri snorted. 'I still don't think there's anything wrong with my word.'

'Jymkuxlp? You didn't even know what it meant!'

'I did, I just chose not to!'

Into this unhappy arena strolled the Counsellor and the First Officer. They were greeted by the sight of Euan being belted around the head with a Scrabble board, and Colleen having a fit of hysterical laughter.[1]

'Well, everything's normal on the bridge!' Leila commented. Ratbat chuckled.

'Colleen, what's the plan for tomorrow night?' the chiropteran asked.

Colleen located her glasses, which were under her console for some reason, and put them on. 'We're starting off in 10-Foreplay at seven, and going on to who knows were for who knows how long.'

'I think it's unfair that you don't invite us blokes to these hens' nights of yours!' complained Euan, from where Terri had knocked him.

'Well dur!' said Ratbat. 'It wouldn't be a hens' night if just anyone could show up! Anyway, it's not as if you guys don't have your own little parties. I've heard about the all-night sessions of playing poker and watching football!'

'Actually, I quite like football,' interrupted Leila. Ratbat trod on her toe.

'It's strange,' said Terri. 'When guys want to do their male bonding thing it involves lots of running around after bits of pumped up leather, but we girls just need a shopping mall. I wonder who the most civilised out of the two sexes are!'

At this point Ruth came onto the bridge, dripping sweat and sheathing her double-action type II phaser. 'Hello! Just been using Ensign Thomas for target practice. Someone get him a clean pair of trousers.'

Euan raised his eyebrow at Terri. She shrugged. 'There's always an exception to any rule.'

'Well, that may be the case, but Ruth, it is BAD MANNERS to use security officers for target practice! What's wrong with the coloured light phaser range thing?'

'It surrendered.'

'Oh.' Euan made a mental note to get Robyn's team to fix it.

Ruth plonked herself down in Euan's chair, despite his pitiful yelping.[2] 'Are you guys talking about the hens' night?'

'Yeah,' said Terri. 'I was just wondering whose turn it is to get tied naked to a flagpole. Who was it last time?'

'Me,' said Leila. 'And it's not an experience I want to repeat. When that drill team came out the next morning I didn't know where to look!'

'Serves you right for getting tied to Starfleet Academy's main flagpole then, dunnit?' said Ratbat.

Leila gave her an evil look. 'I think it's high time we learnt what lies beneath Commander Sigma's red-shouldered exterior,' she said nastily.

'You've seen it, remember?'[3]

Leila went red. 'Oops. Sorry, forgot about that.'

'And as I remember, you were quite...'

'All right, all right! You said you wouldn't compromise my sexuality any more, remember?'

Ratbat grinned. 'I know. Sorry.'

Leila sulked.

'We'd better tell everyone when the thing starts,' said Colleen, who had been staring intently at a knob on her control panel, before noticing that it was the cigarette lighter which no-one ever used. 'Are you blokes planning anything?'

Euan, muffled from underneath Ruth, gave a vague hand-gesture. 'We're having a little thing in Damien's quarters. There aren't very many of us, so it'll only be small.'

'Good,' said Terri. 'We want this one to go down in history.'

These could be described as famous last words, except that they weren't.

Full of hope and courage, we set forth one misty morning. Our sail billowed in the light breeze, and as we rounded the cliffs, the Captain at the wheel gave a cry.

'Ho! See yonder the helpless British trader! We shall board them and murder every mothers' son!'

Our trusty ship Compromise easily caught the British ship, and we swung from the rigging into the waiting arms of the hapless sailors.

'Ho!' cried the Captain, 'See ye all the power of the Dread Pirate Bowen!'

And with that terrible cry, he drew his sword, and rounded on the captain of the British ship, who was someone I almost recogni--

'Leila, are you all right?'

She jumped. 'What?'

Ratbat sat down on Leila's bed. 'You looked like you were having a nightmare.'

Leila rubbed her eyes, bemused. 'I'd somehow got myself into a Nordic epic, only for some reason it was like Viking pirates against Nelson's navy. And Euan was doing really nasty stuff, and... it was just horrible!'

'Was it anything to do with that one you had the other night?'

Leila paused. 'It's getting clearer, but I still can't pick it. There's this guy, and he's...oh, never mind. It was just a silly dream.'

Ratbat raised an eyebrow.

'Really! It's OK!'

'Then you'd better get up. The Hens' Night's tonight, and Emma needs some help setting up in 10-Foreplay.'

Leila groaned. 'Why do we have to do it?'

'I didn't say we did.'

'Oh. Good.'

Outside 10-Foreplay, the pair ran into one of the security officers. 'Hello, Anthony,' said Leila, nice and friendly.

He jumped a mile. 'Oh shit, I thought you were Ruth!'

Ratbat giggled. 'Did Miss Ruth give you the brown trousers treatment yesterday, Ensign Thomas?'

Anthony went red. 'Um...piss off. I was just looking for...for a drink.'

'Well, you won't find any in there, it's only the godsdamned bar!' said Leila sarcastically. Anthony glared, and wandered off.

Ratbat patted her. 'Come on, darling. Let's go help Emma.'

The petite Klingon,[4] who had somehow managed to move half the furniture from 10-Foreplay into the adjoining conference room, was struggling with a six-seater sofa when Ratbat and Leila wandered in.

'Unngh!' she said.

'Morning, Emma,' said Ratbat. 'Want a hand?'

She straightened up and brushed the hair out of her eyes. 'I'm sick of this furniture! Tell your stupid Captain that the furniture in the bar of Contraceptive class ships is too bloody heavy! He'll have to get Starfleet command to re-model it.'

'Right, Em, I'm sure that'll be his number one priority. Like Starfleet command haven't got anything better to do.'

Emma glared. Leila chuckled and gave her a pat. 'We just ran into Ensign Thomas, and he said he's after a drink. Why didn't he come in here? The place is empty!'

'Oh, him,' replied Emma. 'He just walked in, saw Ruth sitting here modifying her phaser, screamed, and bolted.'

'Where'd Ruth go?'

'To get a new throwing knife attachment. I think she's trying to make an all-purpose weapon for Starfleet to issue to all security officers.'

'Is that why there aren't any other customers in here?'

'Yeah, they all left when she started experimenting with poisoned janis thorns.'

Ratbat snorted. 'I think Ruth's mis-read the prime directive.'

'What's the prime directive?' asked Leila.

'Some crap that says we've got to be nice to everyone or something like that.'

'Oh. One of those rules that's a real rule but no-one actually abides by.'

'Yeah.'

'OK, now you've got your stupid protocol out of the way, how about giving me a hand with this bloody couch?' Emma butted in.

Terri wandered into Colleen's quarters. The second officer was currently on subspace to her fiancé, who was busy doing some special work for the Starfleet Diplomatic Service.

'Oh, Ace, Tel's just come in. I'll talk to you later, OK?' She hung up. 'Hi, Tel, how's it going?'

Terri parked herself on Colleen's bed. 'I'm a bit concerned about our security chief.'

'What's she done now?'

'I just ran into Anthony. He's absolutely petrified! I've never seen him so jumpy, even when he was on the run from the Space Mafia. I think we'd better have a little word to Ruth about getting her security officers shitscared.'

Colleen looked skeptical. 'And you think she's going to listen to us?'

'It's gotta be worth a try, doesn't it? I mean, if the security officers are all a pile of nervous wrecks, what good are they going to be defending the ship?'

'Good point. Hey, Tel, did you see that new catering officer we picked up last time we were in Spacedock?'

'No. Any good?'

Colleen whistled. 'You ain't seen nothing yet! I only saw him for a second, but he's....ooh, very nice.'

'Hang on,' Terri interrupted. 'You shouldn't be thinking about this! You're engaged!'

'So?' Colleen gave a shrug. 'I'm always on the look out for someone nice for you lot. No one can top Ace, of course, but you have to admit, there is a shortage of decent males on board.'

Terri grinned. 'So what's his name?'

'Mark.'

Catering Officer Ensign Mark Kettle was finding Compromise life quite easy. Since all the food on board was replicated, there wasn't much for a Catering Officer to do, except keep the batteries on the replicators going. Mark and his fellow Catering Officer, Lieutenant Job, were currently doing shots of tequila in 10-Foreplay.

Emma the Klingon glared at the pair. 'OK, party guys, it's time for you two to leave,' she snarled.

Jarrah looked at his watch. 'What do you mean? It's only half-past five! I thought the bar didn't close till four o'clock in the morning!'

'It doesn't actually close at all, but there's a private function here tonight, and you two have to piss off!'

'What's happening here?' asked Mark.

Emma waved a glass at him. 'It's Colleen's annual Hens' Night, and it's girls only, so get out!'

Mark looked perplexed. 'Hang on a sec...Colleen? Not Colleen Hick?'

'Yes, Colleen Hick, what's the problem?'

Emma and Jarrah watched Mark bolt out of the bar. 'I wonder what's got into him?' said Emma.

Ensign Kettle, after his initial flight, paused in the corridor. 'Computer,' he said.

'What?' said the computer.

'Find Colleen Hick, please.'

'What do you want with Lieutenant Hick?'

Mark stared.[5] 'What's it got to do with you?'

'It might be security protected information,' replied the computer airily.

Mark glared. 'Just tell me where she is. I'm sure that's not security protected.'

The computer gave a pause. 'Lieutenant Hick is in her quarters.'

Mark waited. 'And..?'

'And what?'

'Where are Lieutenant Hick's quarters?'

'And why do you want to know that? It might be security protected information!'

Mark sighed. 'Computer, I want to know where she is, and I want to know now, and if you don't tell me, I'll beat the crap out of you!'

'Oh,' said the computer.

Colleen was sitting on her bed, idly flicking though a catalogue of wedding garters, when her door-chime gave a beep. 'Come in,' she said, never being one for the peremptoriness of saying 'Come.'

The blurred form of a catering officer bounded into her room, seized her around the waist, and twirled her all around the room. 'Chook!!' he was bellowing.

Colleen, managing somehow to free herself, took stock. 'What the...Mark?!?'

Mark sat her down and plonked himself down on the floor. 'They didn't even tell me that you were on this ship! How cool is this!'

Colleen grinned. 'I think I saw you the other day. It's funny we haven't run into each other before.'

'Yeah. I hear you're having a Hens' Night tonight. Still engaged to Ace?'

'Of course!'

'How long's it been now?'

Colleen shrugged. 'About...seven, nine years. It's fun being engaged.'

Mark raised an eyebrow. 'But you never see him!'

She shrugged again. 'Being engaged is fun even if your fiancé isn't around. We've been planning the wedding for ages now.'

'Bloody hell, Chook!'[6]

'Oh, give me a break! I like planning the wedding. So do Tel and Leila and Ruth and Louise and Anthea and Melanie and Ratbat...'

'Your wedding plans are open to free discussion around the ship?' Mark shook his head. 'Jesus, do you guys need a life!'

Colleen laughed. 'Now that you're here, I'm sure we'll get one!'

Mark raised an eyebrow. 'You betcha!'

Old friends coming to town, mysterious dreams, and a Captain who loses bits out of his GI Joes. This is usual on the starship Compromise, and if you don't like it, you can lump it.

The party was in full swing. Colleen had been given so many presents that the bar was beginning to look like a bomb had gone off in a wrapping paper store. The presents themselves were piled behind the bar, where Emma could keep an eye on them.

Not content with just getting blotto and dancing in the drunken manner of Clubbers everywhere, the girls had started on that classic for parties with only one gender attending - the Limbo.

There had been three casualties so far.

Leila and Ratbat, leaning on each other to keep from falling over, dragged a fourth body (Bobbi's) out of the way, and propped her up against a wall.

Terri, Colleen, Andrea, Karen, and the M^cMillan sisters stood at the bar.

''S fun!' Colleen slurred. 'Tel, I've had twelve drinks, and I drink I'm thunk!'

Terri didn't reply, as she had a piece of lemon in her mouth.

'Lip, sik, sop!' chanted Andrea, getting it wrong.

Karen seized the tequila bottle. ''S my turn!' She knocked over the salt shaker.

Emma shook her head. 'Bloody hell, Karen, you go and make a mess!'

Karen pointed to where Renée was fertilising a pot-plant, and didn't comment. Emma sighed. 'I knew we shouldn't have spiked the punch!'

Terri looked surprised. 'I thought the punch was alcoholic anyway.'

'It was, but Ruth spiked it again,' replied Emma.

'What with?'

The Klingon shrugged. 'I don't know what it's called, but it's about 85% proof.'

Terri surreptitiously sidled toward the punch-bowl.

At the limbo competition, another hapless victim wound up on the floor. 'All right!' shouted Ksenia, who was the only moderately sober person in the area. 'Next round - twenty centimetres! Any takers?'

In Damien's quarters, the male portion of the population was enjoying a much more civilised evening. Well, they weren't actually enjoying it, but it was close.

Graham was eating something green and mushy from Cardassia, while Euan poured out the last of the beer. 'Graham, that looks absolutely foul. What the smeg is it?'

Graham made an incoherent noise through his beard.

'Erk. I hate Thai food!'

Jarrah came in with a bottle of vodka. 'I managed to get this,' he said.

'Where'd you find it?' asked Jaan.

'Under Emma the Techie's bed,' Jarrah replied.

Mark grabbed the bottle, and drained half of it in one gulp. 'Hmm. Not bad!'

'Jaan, put on the next one,' ordered Euan.

Jaan picked up a video. 'OK, this one's rugby league...the 2354 series, the Parramatta Eels against the Bajor Spiders.'

The Girls' half of the evening had finally decided that 10-Foreplay was getting boring, and had conga-ed their way to a holodeck, which was programmed to resemble a twentieth century nightclub, even down to the grubby pool-table and sleazy Army cadets.

Ruth, with a laden tray, elbowed her way through the hologramatic crowd to the table where Leila, Bobbi and Fiona were swapping hangover stories.

'Not ever?' asked Leila.

'No, never,' Fiona replied. 'Is there something wrong with that?'

Bobbi shook her head. 'I've never heard of anything like this! Ruth, did you bring the Wicked Strength lager?'

Ruth nodded. 'Yep - all tree glallonsh.'

'Right. Ensign M^cCulloch - prepare for your first hangover.'

Terri was holding up Ratbat, who'd had two Midori and Lemonades[7] and was now trying to dance.

'Dinna wirry 'bout me, meloove, I'mm kite shuuber,' the chiropteran was saying.

Terri, who wasn't exactly in the best shape herself, staggered slightly. 'Ratti, I gotta put you down, or I'm gonna go through the floor!'

''s all right, Tllell, jusht leggo an' I'll be fine!'

Terri let go.

'Bum,' said Ratbat from the floor.

At half time of the Parramatta vs Bajor game, the guys decided that their evening was possibly the most boring thing that had ever happened since...since Colleen's last Hens' night, actually.

'And we can't even go cruising for chicks because Ruth's put in a security override on all the docking bays!' complained Jaan.

Anthony winced. 'Please, don't mention that name!'

'What is the problem with you and Ruth, anyway?' asked Euan curiously.

'You don't want to know - seriously!' Anthony replied.

Jaan snorted. 'I'm sick of this. Let's play poker.'

'We can't,' said Damien.

'Why?' asked Jarrah.

'Graham ate all the cards.'

Graham put on his innocent face. 'Moi? Eat all the cards?'

'Yes, you!' said Damien. 'I saw you using them to dip that funny green stuff.'

'I thought they were water-crackers! Seriously!'

'OK, so we haven't got any cards. We've still got the poker-chips. We could play...tiddlywinks,' suggested Euan.

The others gave him a look.

'No?'

'Put the tape back on,' said Mark. 'Even football's got to be more interesting than this.'

As the Compromise sailed though the night, both parties got more and more inebriated, and gradually, everyone fell asleep. By 4am ship-time, the vessel was quiet, except for the sounds of snoring.

The sun was shining brightly, and the birds were singing. The countryside was calm and peaceful, and everyone was feeling happy.

'Right!' said the General. How they knew he was a General wasn't clear, but he was definitely the General. 'Right! I want you to march through that forest, until you come to the enemy lines. Then you open fire. Take no prisoners, and if you get shot, try not to die messily.'

The troops looked at each other, shocked. 'But Sir!' protested the Lieutenant Commander. 'Why do we have to do this? Can't we reason with the enemy?'

The General's face loomed before her. 'No,' he whispered. 'There is no reasoning. This has already happened, and you can't change it.'

'But why?'

'Because this is your racial memory. It is part of you. Part of your history, part of your life...'

Bed. Cold. Hard. Hard and sticky. And slightly wet. Not bed. No. Definitely not bed. Something else. Floor.

Leila opened her eyes, and wished she hadn't.

The holodeck was a sorry sight. The program from the night before was still running, despite the twenty-two people comatose on the floor.

She shoved herself into a sitting position, and waited for the room to stop spinning before she took stock.

On the floor to her left was Ratbat, who hadn't actually moved since she'd fallen over. Ratbat's feet were being used as a pillow by Colleen, and where Leila's head had been was Terri's knee.

Carefully, so as not to dislodge her brain, Leila stood up. 'Computer, end program,' she ordered, very softly.

The holodeck returned to its normal configuration.

Gradually, the bodies began to return to life. Ratbat was the first to recover. She carefully placed both feet on the ground, and tried to straighten up after them, which unfortunately didn't work. As she lay on the floor, she wailed, 'What did I do to deserve this?' very softly. Some people have mastered the art of hangover without headache. Ratbat wasn't one of them.

'Computer!' Leila said, 'Play program Recovery 1.'

The holodeck reconfigured itself, and there were considerable sighs of relief all round. Instead of a hard floor, the ground was now thickly carpeted and covered in soft pillows. The lighting was turned down. And tables, supplied with Berocca and thick, black coffee, sprang up around the edges.

Leila lay back on a cushion. 'Thank Gods we installed this program!'

Colleen suddenly leapt up and bolted out of the room to go and be sick.

Terri sighed. 'I told her the avocado and shrimp dip wouldn't go down too well. Well, it went down all right. It just doesn't seem to want to stay there.'

'Isn't it amazing,' said Leila. 'That people with hangovers can't move under normal circumstances, but if they need to be sick, they're faster than a gazelle on steroids?'

Ratbat winced. 'Stop talkin' so crukkin' loudly!' she growled. 'I've got a bastard of a headache!'

The recovery continued.

In Damien's quarters, a different recovery was taking place. The male half[8] of the population had awoken to discover that beer, vodka, and green mushy stuff from Cardassia might be fun the night before, but the day after they're not so nice, especially seeing as they leave a foul taste in your mouth.

Graham was awake and trying to trim his toenails with Damien's pencil-sharpener when Jaan managed to open his eyes.

'Morning Jaan! How are you? You well?' he said.

Jaan gave an incoherent groan. 'Grimdddkkjs,' he said.

Crewmember Gault pulled himself out from under the bunk. 'What was that stuff we ate last night?'

'Why?' asked Graham.

''Cos there's a big pile of it under here.'

'Erk.'

Parker bounded into the room, barking happily, and was met by one of Euan's shoes on the nose.[9]

Jarrah sighed. 'It's impossible to sleep around here in the mornings,' he complained.

Damien, who was somehow sharing the single bunk with Mark, stirred. 'Aahh, did you enjoy it as much as I did?' he mumbled, groping the aforementioned Catering Officer into wakefulness. Mark started, and punched him.

About half an hour later, the males had managed to crawl out of Damien's burrow, and had made their way to the bridge.

'All right, Graham, where are all the girls?' asked Euan.

Graham spread his hands in a gesture of injured innocence. 'Why should I know?'

Euan glared.

'I don't know, for once, OK? I was with you guys all night.'

'Right. Ensign Murphy, go down to 10-Foreplay and see where all the girls have got to,' Euan ordered.

'Woo-hoo! Too right, I will!' Jaan was quite keen to do this.[10]

Euan sat down in his chair, and gazed at the viewer. He sighed. 'We're never going to find the Hair Hat at this rate!'

Graham patted him on the head. 'Come on Euie, let's do Chair Juggling while we wait for the girls to get up.'

In about five minutes, Ensign Murphy wandered back on to the bridge. 'Um, Captain, there's a little problem.'

'What?' Euan dropped a chair on his foot.

'The girls aren't in 10-Foreplay. Not even Emma's there, and I've never seen her out of the bar!'

Euan sighed. 'Did you check the Holodecks?'

'Yes, and they're not there either.'

Euan looked puzzled, and dropped his other chair. 'Computer, where are all the girls?'

'The phrase "all the girls" does not appear in my vocabulary,' the computer replied smugly.

Mark cracked his knuckles meaningfully. 'Really?' he asked.

The computer gave a hurried beep. 'Er...maybe it does, but none of the female members of the crew are aboard the Compromise.'

'What?' said Euan.

'They were last recorded in Holodeck 3, but I lost them about four am ship time.'

Euan paced around the command area. 'Are any of the shuttles or runabouts missing?'

'No, all craft are accounted for.'

He stopped pacing. 'Well where the smeg are they?'

The female population of the crew had taken rather longer than half an hour to wake up, but had gradually gone off to their respective positions.

Terri and Colleen, treading very softly, made their way to the bridge. 'I wonder why the turbolift isn't working,' said Colleen.

'Barry's probably forgotten to put his headset on again,' replied Terri.

They entered the bridge.

There was a pause.

'Shit!' said Terri. 'Where is everyone?'

Colleen gave a shrug. 'Maybe they slept in,'

Terri looked at her watch - a useless gesture, as it hadn't worked since she put it through the wash. 'Bugger. Computer, what time is it?'

'Eleven thirty am ship time,' the computer replied.

'So where is everyone?' she asked.

'Please specify - everyone?'

'Well, where's the rest of the bridge crew, for a start?'

There was a pause. 'Commander Sigma is in the quarters of Counsellor Fetter, Lieutenant Crabb is re-adjusting her phaser in her quarters, Lieutenant Commander Forde is in Science, and you two are standing in front of me.'

Terri waited. 'And?'

'And what?'

'Where are Captain Bowen and Lieutenant Commander Henstock, at least.'

'Captain Bowen and Lieutenant Commander Henstock are not on board the Compromise.'

'What? Where are they? Did they do cruising for chicks again? I thought Ruth put a security override on all the docking bays!'

'No, no spacecraft are missing. There appear to be no male crew members on the ship.'

Terri and Colleen stared at each other.

'Er, Computer,' said Colleen, 'Did I hear you right? Are there no males on board?'

'Correct,' the computer replied.

'Oh, shit,' Colleen hit her comm badge. 'This is Lieutenant Hick to all personnel. Confabulation on the bridge in five minutes!'

The disgruntled females straggled on to the bridge. 'Col, you'd better have a bloody good reason for this!' growled Leila, tripping over Parker, who was somehow draped around the doorway.

'I do. There's a bit of a problem with personnel.'

Ksenia groaned. 'You called us all here for that? I've just been isolating a particularly interesting strain of 'flu virus!'

'Ksenia, shut up! I mean, there don't appear to be any male personnel on the ship.'

'Goody, just the way we fucking want it!' said Emma the Techie.

'Hang on, Emma, this could be serious,' interrupted Ruth. 'What do you mean, there aren't any male crewmembers on board?'

'Exactly what I said, you idiot! We're all that's here!'

Ratbat looked puzzled. 'But why?'

'Because I wanted it so!' said a loud, boomy voice.

The crew turned. Sitting in Euan's chair was a rather nondescript person, dressed in the uniform of a Starfleet Admiral. He was also wearing a vicious grin. Parker gave a yelp, and ran for it.

'Hang on a sec, Ratti,' said Leila. 'Remember the time we were abducted and taken to an ethereal trial?'[11]

'Yeah, it's not a thing I'm likely to forget, darling,'

'Don't you recognise this guy?'

Ratbat stared. 'Oh, cruk! Yer right! It's that omnipotent guy, from the Continuum. What's yer name?'

'S.'

'Bloody wanky name, if you ask me,' muttered Emma the Techie under her breath. Ruth trod on her toe.

'I have come to pass judgment upon you all,' S declared resonantly.

'Just a minute, pal,' Ratbat interrupted. 'How are you making your voice so boomy?'

S paused. 'Well, I...'

'Yer wearing a throat-mike aren't you?'

'Look, it's none of your busin...'

'Bloody cheat! We've got people who can make their voices boomy without technological voice aids.'

'Now, look...'

'Call yerself omnipotent? I call you a fraud!'

'SHUT UP!!!'

Ratbat shut up.

S straightened his outfit. 'Er, now. You may be wondering why I've separated you from your male crewmates.'

'Not really,' replied Emma the Techie under her breath. S glared at her.

'IF you'll just shut up for a moment, you might be able to get back to your mission! Or then again...' S, getting back into his style, gave a grin. 'maybe you won't!'

Colleen sighed. 'Why don't we get rid of some of these people? The bridge is a little crowded.'

S nodded.

'OK, guys. Me, Tel, Ksenia, Ratbat, Ruth, and Leila will stay here and talk to S, the rest of you get back to your posts, and we'll call you if there's any developments.'

The crew dissipated.

'Right, Mr Omnipotent. What's the score?' asked Ratbat.

S crossed his legs. 'OK. I have separated you from your male crewmembers for a reason. I feel that your gender is more sensitive to the ways of the universe, and besides, I can't argue with that CMO of yours. He is so full of crap. Anyway, you see I'm here to prove to you, without a doubt, that the human race is a complete waste of space and time, and if you can't show that this is not the case, I'm going to eliminate you all.'

'What? Why?' said Colleen, perplexed.

'Because that's what the Continuum does!'

'Sounds like a bloody stupid idea to me,' muttered Leila under her breath.

S glared at her. 'Look, pal, shut up or I'll have you in contempt!'

'I can't be in contempt of this, it's not a court.'

'Bullshit, it's not.' S snapped his fingers.

Suddenly the bridge was gone, and they were standing in a replica of an early 20th Century courtroom, complete with carved witness box and bars on the dock.

S, now wearing a wig with his Starfleet Admiral's uniform, was sitting in the Judge's stand. 'Right. Now you will all stand trial for your race's crimes against itself.'

A screen, the only out-of-period thing in the room, lit up.

'Now you will see how completely ridiculous your race is,' said S.

On the screen, a dozen chocolate rabbits bounded past, with James Earl Jones shooting at them with a piece of carrot.

Peter Davison, in his fifth Doctor costume complete with celery stick, materialised the TARDIS in the middle of an ocean of custard, looked perplexed, and left again.

The Beatles drove past in a yellow kombi, with the Mona Lisa and Queen Victoria chasing them, screaming like crazed fans. Elvis stuck his head out of one of the back windows, said 'Uh-huh-huh', and turned into a pink jellybean.

They came across a planet made entirely of dough-nut, with Homer Simpson taking massive bites out of it.

'What the...? This was my dream!' Leila exclaimed. 'What the hell were you doing with my dream?'

'I was giving you the ability to defend your species. I think you've had ample preparation time.'

'You scumbag, I haven't even heard the charges yet!'

S stood up, and vanished, rematerialising a second later in the prosecution box. 'OK, I put it to the court that humans idolise the most ridiculous things. Instead of worshipping the Continuum, you pathetic humans are content to worship people like this.' James Earl Jones' image appeared. 'This man, a fat, unnecessarily ugly American actor, is a symbol of success in your pathetic lives. Why?'

The picture changed, and became a shot of Peter Davison.

'Now, this man. A rather pathetic example of a human being, who once said "shit" on screen. Absolutely reprehensible.'

The Beatles, Queen Victoria, and Elvis Presley all appeared at the same time.

'Now, these people. Drug addicts, social misfits, and really bad singers, the lot of them, but all idolised by your race. And this man!' Homer Simpson appeared. 'Another fat, gut-blubbering man, who spends his days eating donuts and almost causing nuclear meltdowns. Why? Why this man?'

Leila looked around. 'I presume I'm speaking for everyone here?'

Everyone nodded.

'OK. S, my defence here is just this - human beings will idolise anything. If your mob from the Continuum came down and manifested yourselves, there's a good chance you'd get worshipped as well.'

S sighed. 'Fine. Here is my next case.' The Dread Pirate Bowen, Euan's worse half in at least one other reality, appeared on the screen. 'Your people feel that a life of pillaging, looting, rape and violence is romantic and exciting. You are SICK!'

Leila rolled her eyes. 'Right. Simple defence here. This sort of crap isn't real. The only reason people like it is that they know it's not true! Dork!'

S glared at her. 'Watch your mouth, miss! And now, my final piece of evidence,' he gestured dramatically. The screen changed, now showing a clip from the footage of the first world war. 'Now see this. People blowing each other up, shooting each other, torturing, maiming, and generally being crappy to each other. How do you defend that?'

Leila opened her mouth. 'Well...'

Suddenly Ratbat jumped in front of her. 'Hang on, you omnipotent bastard, this isn't World War One!'

S looked uncomfortable. 'What do you...'

'This is just footage from that season six Doctor Who story! You've just regurgitated The War Games!'

S shuffled his feet. 'Now look, this...'

'You're a big fake! First you use a throat-mike, now you can't even get proper World War One footage! I bet you're not even omnipotent!'

S looked offended. 'Now, see here...'

'I bet you're just a semi-omnipotent person wearing a false nose so you look omnipotent! Fraud!'

S drew himself up to his full height.[12] 'Now listen, miss, if you don't shut the hell up right now, I'll leave!'

'Fine! Go on! You're useless anyway!'

'OK! I will!' S snapped his fingers, and the court room vanished, leaving them on the bridge. 'I'm leaving, and I'm not coming back.' He paused. 'Well, I might come back. After I've had a vicious word to the people from Film and Sound. They said it was World War One.'

'Saw you coming, didn't they?' muttered Ratbat.

S glared. 'I'm going now. You people are just terrible.' He turned, then stopped. 'And don't think I'm going to reunite you with the other bit of your crew! You've offended me now!'

'Just a minute!' Ksenia interrupted. 'Where are the male members of the crew?'

'On the starship Compromise,' replied S.

'But so are we!'

He gave a grin. 'I know.'

There was a flash of light, and S was gone.

'Oh, very bloody good, Ratbat!' snarled Leila. 'You go and offend an omnipotent guy from some continuum, and now we're stuck here without the male members of our crew! Brilliant!'

Ratbat looked innocent. 'I just thought I'd liven things up a bit.'

Colleen sighed. 'Now what do we do?'