Duty, Dragons and Dabo.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns 'em; The Blue Goo, Dr Megalomania and Elvis own the Dragons. We're just seeing what happens when you mix Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and our sick twisted minds.
We'd also like to include various TV series and feature films for inspiration.
Author Note's: We'd also like it noted that we own the various red shirted ensigns and would like to assure the reader that *no ensigns were killed in the writing of this story, horribly maimed or transported to another time and place maybe but killed? No!*
//the dragon's thinking/speaking//
Part 9: Plotholes Never Happen on Deep Space Nine . . .
Far above them . . . well, okay, on the second floor. . . eyes were watching.
To be more accurate, the entire railing around the promenade was staring at the proceedings with disbelief.
It wasn't, of course, really a railing. The two eye-stalks protruding from the metal were a dead giveaway. It looked like half the population of deep space nine was assembled, along with dragon, various aliens, Q and associated spatial disturbances, on the promenade below.
The changeling had an idea. It was a dangerous idea, and would involve some morphing, but-. . .
Why was he here?
Why?
He was bored, he was bad at this, he wasn't particularly interested in this.
He had a creepy double on that station, which he wasn't particularly obsessing about getting back.
What was wrong with him? Didn't he see that life wasn't worth it? What was the point of his sunshiny happiness?
Weyoun sighed deeply.
"I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life"
He summoned the energy to look at the scene before him.
The Jem'hadar first was juggling some canisters of white. The second stood on his head, singing something about being the very model of a modern major general.
BRRRRRRT . . ..BRRRRRRT
Weyoun pressed the button to respond to the hail.
Oh.
Great.
A Starfleet admiral.
"Whadda ya want?" he moaned at the screen.
The Admiral glared at him with the typical Starfleet defiance, chin tilted upward and his crew surrounding him, looking loyal and efficient. Gezz, don't they look chipper!
He was sick of people like that.
The Admiral stepped forward. "We want to know if you want to discuss terms of surrender."
Weyoun managed a smirk and with the encouragement of the jem'hadar in front of him, he produced his first truly evil remark.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm . . .no."
Catrey Negt paced her cell, she'd done some wrong things in her life, used her powers as a Komaloide to con people out of their possessions but did she really deserve to be in this cell with some freakish dominion agent . . . "C-c-come on . . . y-you know wh-what it is . . . wh-what's big, got three walls and an invisible one?"
"I don't . . .THE BRIG! For crying out loud!! Leave me alone! Guards? Guards!! This is cruel and unusual punishment!! GUARDS!"
Ensign Ronaele Htims winced at the screeching of the komaloide, her sensitive half-Vulcan hearing was been assaulted by the sounds emanating from the holding cell.
They'd call Ops several times for assistance but after a while the staff up there refused to answer.
She decide to do something about the incessant talking of the Vorta, surely her captain wouldn't reprimand her from using the Vulcan neck pinch to save the sanity of the staff and prisoners. Besides logic dictated that the peace of the security of the station was at stake and the mere subduing of a manic clone didn't seem so much of a sacrifice.
She walked into the holding area, intent on her goal. The prisoner Catrey Negt was now gesturing emphatically with her hands, her short boy-styled hair bobbed with every jerk of her head. "Oi . . .But . . .get . . .mmm . . .ahgh!!" she snapped, "AGHA!!! KILL . . .KILLL!!!"
Ronaele Htims raise a single eyebrow, arching it in what she hoped was a perfect imitation of her mentor, Tuvok. "Miss Negt, I would not suggest such a course of action with such an illogical conclusion."
Dropping the force field, the half-Vulcan stepped calmly into the cell. Unfortunately, she didn't count on the hectic genetic copy bursting forth and running away before she could do anything.
"Htims to security, we have an escapee . . ."
"Oh great so he gets to escape . . .I get to . . ." Catrey Negt shut up and blew a lock of her hair off her forehead as Ronaele Htims pressed her middle finger and thumb together.
"Shushup!"
Meanwhile in Quark's bar . . .
A strange rumbling noise occurred while the Dragon and Q peered at their cards, she looked up at him and glared. "Stop it, you're putting me off!"
He shrugged "Sorry, it's just I think it would be nice if we had some snacks about . . .you know, some comfort food for you to indulge in when I whup your can at this game."
She smirked, "You're delusional, I'll put it down to your lack of nutrition."
"So, are we gonna eat something or are you gonna go on and on forever?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever . . ." The Dragon moved a card from one side of her hand to the other. Q clicked his fingers and a dish of various snacks appeared beside him and a small bowl of pellets by the Dragon. She peered down imperiously at them, unimpressed, she looked pointedly at Q, arching an eyebrow in question.
Q looked at her in bemusement, and in his hand appeared a box. It had a picture of her on the front, grinning ridiculously, he read from it: -" Q's ol' fashioned Dragon pellets, healthy and choke full of Dragon goodness, specifically designed to give your dragon a healthy, shiny coat and strong teeth!"
The Dragon picked up the bowl, sniffed it and threw it over her shoulder. "Yuck! That's what I think over your screwy pellets!"
There was a small squeak of protest emitted from Quark. "Uh, you realise you'll have to clear that up!"
The Dragon sighed. "Okay."
She clicked her claws and a small hole in the space-time continuum, the very fabric of space, appeared.
The pellets were very quickly sucked into the hole.
Sisko panicked. "Is that thing dangerous?"
"Nah, we'll be using it to put our rubbish in, rather than littering your pretty station." The Dragon replied.
Q leaned towards her and whispered wickedly, "Have you even seen this bucket of bolts from the outside? It looks like two three-legged spiders mashed together on their heads!"
She whispered back. "I know but it's best not to tell the poor saps . . ."
Ensign Nir Aimless twiddled with his traditional earring, before turning to his friend, Ensign Ann Nonamous. "Wow!" he exclaimed, "Will ya look at that thing? It's an actually hole in the time-space continuum!"
"Space-time continuum." She corrected. She moved toward it, waving a tricorder at it.
"Hey! Where are you going?" he called after her.
She glance back, "I just wanna know how it --". She didn't get a chance to finish because the hole sucked her in with a loud slurping noise.
"Ann!" He ran over to the hole, which promptly sucked him in too.
A few moments later, Nog noticed he was the only red shirted ensign left in the bar. He swung round to Jake, who had decided to watch the game. "Jake!" he tugged at the writer's sleeve. "Jake!"
"What?"
"Have you noticed all the ensigns have disappeared?"
Jake looked around before replying, "No they haven't, see there's a few, up there."
Nog glanced up, "Okay, but they're from security and medical support . . .there aren't any red shirts!"
"Were there any ensigns here to start with?"
"Yes, there was Ensign Nir Aimless, Ensign Ann Nonamous, Ensign Walker Deadman, Ensign Evan Bound, Ensign X. Pendable . . ."
Jake held up his hand and sniggered "Wait, wait, wait, *expendable*? There's an ensign that's *expendable*?"
"Yeah . . . I mean NO! Xanthia Pendable, she's a good friend of mine."
"Okay, I'm kidding . . . who else is missing?"
"Umm . . . let me see, Ensign I. Van Esher, Ensign Kanu Helpme and Ensign Harriet Anne-loste, they were all here a moment ago and then they vanished . . . Ensign Harriet Anne-loste said something about looking at that hole over there . . . "
Nog wandered over to have a look. Just by the opening of the hole, there was a discarded tricorder, still on active scan. Nog moved closer, to investigate the phenomena when it happened . . .
Nog was sucked into . . .
Something . . . he didn't know what but it wasn't good . . .
Jake saw this happen and immediately rushed over to see if he could pull his friend back from the . . . hole-rip-in-space-time-hole-thing!!!
He turned to his father, "Dad!! Nog and a couple of ensigns just got sucked into . . . whatever this hole is!"
Sisko reacted with shock, "Nog?!"
"Uh-huh . . . and some ensigns!"
Everybody looked at the rubbish hole, and most murmured something like "Poor Nog".
Jake looked around, "What about the red shirted ensigns?"
Sisko's face blanked, "What red shirted ensigns?"
Jake stared at his father uncomprehendingly, "Huh? The what-shirted whats?"
Sisko shrugged and turned to the Dragon and Q who were now shuffling their cards again. "What is that thing?"
Q replied over his shoulder, "Oh, it's just a plot- " the Dragon kicked him.
"What?!" he said, irritated. "Oh, yeah, can't have those, they 'don't exist on Deep Space Nine', it's just you average worm-black-hole-spatial- anomaly."
Suddenly everyone's attention turn back to the worm-black-hole- spatial- anomaly, which had begun to gurgle discontentedly. Up on the second floor of the bar, an ensign from security shouted: "Holy worm-black-plot-hole- spatial-anomaly-hole-rip-in-space-time-hole-thing!!!" only to be silenced, by a quick jab to the ribs by Lieutenant Bateman.
The hole wobbled and gurgled some more before finally burping and regurgitated Ensign Nog, who landed with an "Oomph!".
Jake kneeled beside him, "Nog? Are you okay?"
Nog could only nod his status before the hole burped again and a scrunched up piece of paper followed.
Jake reached over and opened it up. "What does it say, Jake?" inquired O'Brien.
Jake cleared his throat and read: "PLEASE STOP THROWING YOUR USELESS ENSIGNS INTO OUR DIMENSION! WE HAVE ENOUGH, THANK YOU!".
Of course, the two powerful poker-players were completely oblivious to these shenanigans as they began to settle down to place their bets.
'Beria' hurtled down the corridors, enjoying a good game of tag with the very nice Starfleet security officers.
Hee hee.
They all looked very determined and grim. Maybe they needed to be cheered up.
He would have stopped and given them all a great big group hug.
But then he'd be put back in the brig.
Where he couldn't make everybody happy.
Then he got an idea. He'd sing for them.
Taking a deep breathe and he began sing to them over his shoulder as he made his escape.
"Oh, you, pretty, chitty, chitty, bang, bang,
Chitty, chitty, bang, bang,
We love you,
And our pretty, chitty, chitty, bang, bang,
Chitty, chitty, bang, bang loves us too,"
He skidded, and zigged zagged his way passed a few cilvians.
"Hey ho, everybody knows,
On chitty, chitty, bang, bang we depend,
Bang, bang, chitty, chitty, bang, bang
On you, our pals do depend,
Bang, bang, chitty, chitty, bang, bang,
Chitty, chitty, bang, bang, yeah!"
He rounded a corner and lost sight of the erstwhile pursuers.
The last sound that ensign Kay Tileana and her fellow officers heard of 'Beria', as they lost him, was a cry of . . .
"Everyone in the habitat ring. ONE MORE TIME!
*CHITTY, CHITTY, BANG, BANG!!!*"
'Beria' skipped down the corrider and wondered where he should. Maybe he should go to his clone, or maybe go see that loverly changeling man . . . yeah, yeah, that's a good idea!
'Beria' looked at the ceiling and then asked the nice computer if it knew where that lovely man was. It didn't but no matter, he asked where the cute dragon was, the computer very, very nicely told him that she was on the prominade deck. Now if she was there, then that happy, kind gentleman would most certainly be there also. 'Beria' raced off at a heltascalta pace.
"Alright, draggie, place your bet . . ."
Q cocked a confident eyebrow at her, as he eyed his own hand. They were good cards.
The Dragon frowned at the unwanted nickname but otherwise gave no indication as to the state of her hand.
"Okay . . . I see your . . ." she glaced over Q's shoulder at his first bet, "What did you say your species was again?"
The three stoic males, straight faced but fetchingly dressed in frilly red dresses, answered her in union.
"Vulcan."
Q sniggered, "Geddit? Vulcan-can! They're Vulcans and they're doing the can- can, so they're vulCAN-CANS!!"
She tilted her head at the awful pun, "I see your Vulcan-can, and raise you four Jem'hadar doing the . . ." she closed her eyes as she gleaned the name once more from Bashir's mind, ". . . the Flamingco."
"Oh, ho ho, we think we're good, huh? Well okay, I see your NON-rhyming Flem'hadar and raise you . . ." Q looked around for inspiration, "a Morn singing."
"Fine, I see your guppie with . . . the Doctor!"
Q realised who she was talking about, "Not him, he's incredibly annoying!!"
She gave him a self-indulgent smile, "I know, that's why I choose him."
"Fine! All right, then I raise you a Chuckles!"
"A what?"
"He's big, he's ugly and it looks like someone has drawn all over his face with a biro pen."
The dragon raised an eyebrow, "This I gotta see, I fold."
They simutainlyously brought their wagers into reality, the sound of casonets, and two bass voices sing "*It's Not Unusual to be loved by anyone . . .*" filled the air instantly.
Moments later, after the Dragon had folded, * I wonder if he's got it together with MY sweet Kathy yet? * he thought to himself, Q reclined and picked up his tall cocktail glass and slurped it noisily. The Dragon put a scaly finger to her lips, "Shhh!"
The Doctor ignored the noise and continued.
"What's New Pussy cat, whoa-oh-whoa-a-whoa-ha!"
"WAIT A MINUTE! WAIT JUST A DOG GONE MINUTE!!" a voice cried from the upper balcony, everybody turned their attention to the source, there stood an incensed Vic Fontaine, "It states quite clearly in MY contract that I am the ONLY hologram allowed to perform on this station!!"
Q clapped his hands at the opportunity to get rid of one of his most annoying pet hates.
Yet another round yielded another interesting wager, several Borg were transported to the station much to Sisko's irritation, but even he was amused as the drone were made to follow some obscure yet popular dance that, after a series of meaningless moves: everyone of them cried, "Ah! Macareana! Ai!"
Another wager turned up a lot of red shirted ensigns, who Nog vigorously declared were the missing ensigns, no-one had a clue what he was talking about because every one of these ensigns were valued crew members and someone would have noticed their mass disappearence. Their hands on the person in front's hip and bent slightly forward, the ensign made their way around the tables, singing at the top of their voices, " Dar-la-la, la, HEY! la-la, la HEY!".
The dragon thumbed her cards thoughtfully, slyly eyeing her opponent over the top of her hand.
Needled, Q opened his mouth to say something.
It stayed open in puzzlement.
"Did you invite any of your friends here to watch?", he asked in disgruntled complaint.
The dragon turned and found herself looking into a mirror.
:- //What in the cosmos are you looking at, beanpole?//
The other dragon cleared its throat at the not-really-threatening-but-could- be-if-you're-not-careful challenge.
:// Uh. . . I just wanted to make a business proposal. An alliance, if you will?//
The dragon peered closer at the duplicate.:-// Quark? Is that you?//
By this time, everybody else was looking at the pair in utter confusion. Then realisation dawned.
:- //Oh, you're that wimpy changeling who's been running around the station wreaking havoc!//
:-// Er. . . //
As the fake 'dragon' was surrounded by increasingly hostile-looking starfleet people, he knew he had to make his case quickly. He had hoped this form would make the dragon more amenable to his suggestions - maybe he could hold her hostage as he tried to escape instead . . .
The dragon roared with laughter, which involved many people diving for cover to avoid singed hair.
:-// Hold me hostage? Are you out of your mind? Now go and harass someone else, I've got a card game to finish. //
She turned back to her card game.
The changeling decided to change tactics.
:- //Just a minute-//
Odo sensed the imposter getting uppity again. Luckily the station's entire security force seemed to have congregated here to deal with 'Beria' - or not to deal as the case may be. All Odo could do was watch as 'Beria' got closer to the fake dragon.
In a moment, those who hadn't scrambled out of the way during the dragon's outburst had trained phasers on the fake dragon and the excited Vorta.
:- //Look. Either somebody gets rid of this//- A claw waved at the fake dragon, "//Or I eat him. Okay?//
The fake gulped. Loudly.
"N-n-now, now, there's n-n-n-no n-n-need for petty arg-g-g-uuments, y-you know wh-what we n-need" 'Beria' stutter worserned as his grin split bigger. He breathed in sharply, " A good old fashioned GROUP HUG!!"
"SHUT HIM UP!!!" yelled Q, the dragon, the changeling, and the security officers.
One of the Borg drones stepped forward and stalked 'Beria' menacingly . . . For a brief moment, Sisko tore his eyes away from the game and gazed incredibly at the drone, "Are you going to assimilate him?" he asked hopefully. The drone turned slightly and answered him, "His assimilation would not further the perfection of the Borg, he is unworthy of becoming Borg." This was Borg speak for "No way man, he'll only dumb us down, we leave him with you, SUCKERS!!" and with that he swung his mechanical arm and knocked 'Beria' out. A cheer rose through the ranks. So this left only one distraction, all eyes settled on the counterfeit dragon.
Oh-oh.
He was doomed. He should never have come to the alpha quadrant.
There was only one thing for it.
The fake dragon dove for the real one, the real one turned and immediately began to bludgeon everything within sweeping distance of her tail as she swung round, except for Q who had prudently taken himself out of phase in case of just such an assault, and the two disappeared into a cloud of dust, which the dragon had conjured up for effect. One clawed hand remained out of the melee, still stationary and holding her cards as she beat up the poor unlucky soul.
The Borg drone 6 of 8 continued to do the macarina. She was stationed at the end of the line of drones similarly engaged in the dance. Then one of her fellows - between chanting 'this is irrelevant' and 'Hey, Macarina! Ai!' acquired an expression of consternation on his face.
6 of 8 sent him a deeply blank expression before slowly swivelling her neck and . . .
Her entire life as ensign Snese Midi Liliwa, and then as the borg drone 6 of 8, flashed before her eyes.
As did the onrushing dragon's tail .
"Uh oh. I'm boned."
6 of 8 managed a total of six seconds of total ironic disinterest as she blacked out.
The battle came to an abrupt end, with the dragon sitting on top of her dispiritedly coughing opponent.
:-// Erg. . . //
"Oh, grow up and stop this petty squabbling. Until after the game. No more interruptions," said Q. He clicked his fingers and the unfortunate changeling vanished. In its place appeared a large pile of gelatine-based squidgy stuff with little coloured bits in. It looked rather dejected and was smouldering gently.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns 'em; The Blue Goo, Dr Megalomania and Elvis own the Dragons. We're just seeing what happens when you mix Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and our sick twisted minds.
We'd also like to include various TV series and feature films for inspiration.
Author Note's: We'd also like it noted that we own the various red shirted ensigns and would like to assure the reader that *no ensigns were killed in the writing of this story, horribly maimed or transported to another time and place maybe but killed? No!*
//the dragon's thinking/speaking//
Part 9: Plotholes Never Happen on Deep Space Nine . . .
Far above them . . . well, okay, on the second floor. . . eyes were watching.
To be more accurate, the entire railing around the promenade was staring at the proceedings with disbelief.
It wasn't, of course, really a railing. The two eye-stalks protruding from the metal were a dead giveaway. It looked like half the population of deep space nine was assembled, along with dragon, various aliens, Q and associated spatial disturbances, on the promenade below.
The changeling had an idea. It was a dangerous idea, and would involve some morphing, but-. . .
Why was he here?
Why?
He was bored, he was bad at this, he wasn't particularly interested in this.
He had a creepy double on that station, which he wasn't particularly obsessing about getting back.
What was wrong with him? Didn't he see that life wasn't worth it? What was the point of his sunshiny happiness?
Weyoun sighed deeply.
"I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life"
He summoned the energy to look at the scene before him.
The Jem'hadar first was juggling some canisters of white. The second stood on his head, singing something about being the very model of a modern major general.
BRRRRRRT . . ..BRRRRRRT
Weyoun pressed the button to respond to the hail.
Oh.
Great.
A Starfleet admiral.
"Whadda ya want?" he moaned at the screen.
The Admiral glared at him with the typical Starfleet defiance, chin tilted upward and his crew surrounding him, looking loyal and efficient. Gezz, don't they look chipper!
He was sick of people like that.
The Admiral stepped forward. "We want to know if you want to discuss terms of surrender."
Weyoun managed a smirk and with the encouragement of the jem'hadar in front of him, he produced his first truly evil remark.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm . . .no."
Catrey Negt paced her cell, she'd done some wrong things in her life, used her powers as a Komaloide to con people out of their possessions but did she really deserve to be in this cell with some freakish dominion agent . . . "C-c-come on . . . y-you know wh-what it is . . . wh-what's big, got three walls and an invisible one?"
"I don't . . .THE BRIG! For crying out loud!! Leave me alone! Guards? Guards!! This is cruel and unusual punishment!! GUARDS!"
Ensign Ronaele Htims winced at the screeching of the komaloide, her sensitive half-Vulcan hearing was been assaulted by the sounds emanating from the holding cell.
They'd call Ops several times for assistance but after a while the staff up there refused to answer.
She decide to do something about the incessant talking of the Vorta, surely her captain wouldn't reprimand her from using the Vulcan neck pinch to save the sanity of the staff and prisoners. Besides logic dictated that the peace of the security of the station was at stake and the mere subduing of a manic clone didn't seem so much of a sacrifice.
She walked into the holding area, intent on her goal. The prisoner Catrey Negt was now gesturing emphatically with her hands, her short boy-styled hair bobbed with every jerk of her head. "Oi . . .But . . .get . . .mmm . . .ahgh!!" she snapped, "AGHA!!! KILL . . .KILLL!!!"
Ronaele Htims raise a single eyebrow, arching it in what she hoped was a perfect imitation of her mentor, Tuvok. "Miss Negt, I would not suggest such a course of action with such an illogical conclusion."
Dropping the force field, the half-Vulcan stepped calmly into the cell. Unfortunately, she didn't count on the hectic genetic copy bursting forth and running away before she could do anything.
"Htims to security, we have an escapee . . ."
"Oh great so he gets to escape . . .I get to . . ." Catrey Negt shut up and blew a lock of her hair off her forehead as Ronaele Htims pressed her middle finger and thumb together.
"Shushup!"
Meanwhile in Quark's bar . . .
A strange rumbling noise occurred while the Dragon and Q peered at their cards, she looked up at him and glared. "Stop it, you're putting me off!"
He shrugged "Sorry, it's just I think it would be nice if we had some snacks about . . .you know, some comfort food for you to indulge in when I whup your can at this game."
She smirked, "You're delusional, I'll put it down to your lack of nutrition."
"So, are we gonna eat something or are you gonna go on and on forever?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever . . ." The Dragon moved a card from one side of her hand to the other. Q clicked his fingers and a dish of various snacks appeared beside him and a small bowl of pellets by the Dragon. She peered down imperiously at them, unimpressed, she looked pointedly at Q, arching an eyebrow in question.
Q looked at her in bemusement, and in his hand appeared a box. It had a picture of her on the front, grinning ridiculously, he read from it: -" Q's ol' fashioned Dragon pellets, healthy and choke full of Dragon goodness, specifically designed to give your dragon a healthy, shiny coat and strong teeth!"
The Dragon picked up the bowl, sniffed it and threw it over her shoulder. "Yuck! That's what I think over your screwy pellets!"
There was a small squeak of protest emitted from Quark. "Uh, you realise you'll have to clear that up!"
The Dragon sighed. "Okay."
She clicked her claws and a small hole in the space-time continuum, the very fabric of space, appeared.
The pellets were very quickly sucked into the hole.
Sisko panicked. "Is that thing dangerous?"
"Nah, we'll be using it to put our rubbish in, rather than littering your pretty station." The Dragon replied.
Q leaned towards her and whispered wickedly, "Have you even seen this bucket of bolts from the outside? It looks like two three-legged spiders mashed together on their heads!"
She whispered back. "I know but it's best not to tell the poor saps . . ."
Ensign Nir Aimless twiddled with his traditional earring, before turning to his friend, Ensign Ann Nonamous. "Wow!" he exclaimed, "Will ya look at that thing? It's an actually hole in the time-space continuum!"
"Space-time continuum." She corrected. She moved toward it, waving a tricorder at it.
"Hey! Where are you going?" he called after her.
She glance back, "I just wanna know how it --". She didn't get a chance to finish because the hole sucked her in with a loud slurping noise.
"Ann!" He ran over to the hole, which promptly sucked him in too.
A few moments later, Nog noticed he was the only red shirted ensign left in the bar. He swung round to Jake, who had decided to watch the game. "Jake!" he tugged at the writer's sleeve. "Jake!"
"What?"
"Have you noticed all the ensigns have disappeared?"
Jake looked around before replying, "No they haven't, see there's a few, up there."
Nog glanced up, "Okay, but they're from security and medical support . . .there aren't any red shirts!"
"Were there any ensigns here to start with?"
"Yes, there was Ensign Nir Aimless, Ensign Ann Nonamous, Ensign Walker Deadman, Ensign Evan Bound, Ensign X. Pendable . . ."
Jake held up his hand and sniggered "Wait, wait, wait, *expendable*? There's an ensign that's *expendable*?"
"Yeah . . . I mean NO! Xanthia Pendable, she's a good friend of mine."
"Okay, I'm kidding . . . who else is missing?"
"Umm . . . let me see, Ensign I. Van Esher, Ensign Kanu Helpme and Ensign Harriet Anne-loste, they were all here a moment ago and then they vanished . . . Ensign Harriet Anne-loste said something about looking at that hole over there . . . "
Nog wandered over to have a look. Just by the opening of the hole, there was a discarded tricorder, still on active scan. Nog moved closer, to investigate the phenomena when it happened . . .
Nog was sucked into . . .
Something . . . he didn't know what but it wasn't good . . .
Jake saw this happen and immediately rushed over to see if he could pull his friend back from the . . . hole-rip-in-space-time-hole-thing!!!
He turned to his father, "Dad!! Nog and a couple of ensigns just got sucked into . . . whatever this hole is!"
Sisko reacted with shock, "Nog?!"
"Uh-huh . . . and some ensigns!"
Everybody looked at the rubbish hole, and most murmured something like "Poor Nog".
Jake looked around, "What about the red shirted ensigns?"
Sisko's face blanked, "What red shirted ensigns?"
Jake stared at his father uncomprehendingly, "Huh? The what-shirted whats?"
Sisko shrugged and turned to the Dragon and Q who were now shuffling their cards again. "What is that thing?"
Q replied over his shoulder, "Oh, it's just a plot- " the Dragon kicked him.
"What?!" he said, irritated. "Oh, yeah, can't have those, they 'don't exist on Deep Space Nine', it's just you average worm-black-hole-spatial- anomaly."
Suddenly everyone's attention turn back to the worm-black-hole- spatial- anomaly, which had begun to gurgle discontentedly. Up on the second floor of the bar, an ensign from security shouted: "Holy worm-black-plot-hole- spatial-anomaly-hole-rip-in-space-time-hole-thing!!!" only to be silenced, by a quick jab to the ribs by Lieutenant Bateman.
The hole wobbled and gurgled some more before finally burping and regurgitated Ensign Nog, who landed with an "Oomph!".
Jake kneeled beside him, "Nog? Are you okay?"
Nog could only nod his status before the hole burped again and a scrunched up piece of paper followed.
Jake reached over and opened it up. "What does it say, Jake?" inquired O'Brien.
Jake cleared his throat and read: "PLEASE STOP THROWING YOUR USELESS ENSIGNS INTO OUR DIMENSION! WE HAVE ENOUGH, THANK YOU!".
Of course, the two powerful poker-players were completely oblivious to these shenanigans as they began to settle down to place their bets.
'Beria' hurtled down the corridors, enjoying a good game of tag with the very nice Starfleet security officers.
Hee hee.
They all looked very determined and grim. Maybe they needed to be cheered up.
He would have stopped and given them all a great big group hug.
But then he'd be put back in the brig.
Where he couldn't make everybody happy.
Then he got an idea. He'd sing for them.
Taking a deep breathe and he began sing to them over his shoulder as he made his escape.
"Oh, you, pretty, chitty, chitty, bang, bang,
Chitty, chitty, bang, bang,
We love you,
And our pretty, chitty, chitty, bang, bang,
Chitty, chitty, bang, bang loves us too,"
He skidded, and zigged zagged his way passed a few cilvians.
"Hey ho, everybody knows,
On chitty, chitty, bang, bang we depend,
Bang, bang, chitty, chitty, bang, bang
On you, our pals do depend,
Bang, bang, chitty, chitty, bang, bang,
Chitty, chitty, bang, bang, yeah!"
He rounded a corner and lost sight of the erstwhile pursuers.
The last sound that ensign Kay Tileana and her fellow officers heard of 'Beria', as they lost him, was a cry of . . .
"Everyone in the habitat ring. ONE MORE TIME!
*CHITTY, CHITTY, BANG, BANG!!!*"
'Beria' skipped down the corrider and wondered where he should. Maybe he should go to his clone, or maybe go see that loverly changeling man . . . yeah, yeah, that's a good idea!
'Beria' looked at the ceiling and then asked the nice computer if it knew where that lovely man was. It didn't but no matter, he asked where the cute dragon was, the computer very, very nicely told him that she was on the prominade deck. Now if she was there, then that happy, kind gentleman would most certainly be there also. 'Beria' raced off at a heltascalta pace.
"Alright, draggie, place your bet . . ."
Q cocked a confident eyebrow at her, as he eyed his own hand. They were good cards.
The Dragon frowned at the unwanted nickname but otherwise gave no indication as to the state of her hand.
"Okay . . . I see your . . ." she glaced over Q's shoulder at his first bet, "What did you say your species was again?"
The three stoic males, straight faced but fetchingly dressed in frilly red dresses, answered her in union.
"Vulcan."
Q sniggered, "Geddit? Vulcan-can! They're Vulcans and they're doing the can- can, so they're vulCAN-CANS!!"
She tilted her head at the awful pun, "I see your Vulcan-can, and raise you four Jem'hadar doing the . . ." she closed her eyes as she gleaned the name once more from Bashir's mind, ". . . the Flamingco."
"Oh, ho ho, we think we're good, huh? Well okay, I see your NON-rhyming Flem'hadar and raise you . . ." Q looked around for inspiration, "a Morn singing."
"Fine, I see your guppie with . . . the Doctor!"
Q realised who she was talking about, "Not him, he's incredibly annoying!!"
She gave him a self-indulgent smile, "I know, that's why I choose him."
"Fine! All right, then I raise you a Chuckles!"
"A what?"
"He's big, he's ugly and it looks like someone has drawn all over his face with a biro pen."
The dragon raised an eyebrow, "This I gotta see, I fold."
They simutainlyously brought their wagers into reality, the sound of casonets, and two bass voices sing "*It's Not Unusual to be loved by anyone . . .*" filled the air instantly.
Moments later, after the Dragon had folded, * I wonder if he's got it together with MY sweet Kathy yet? * he thought to himself, Q reclined and picked up his tall cocktail glass and slurped it noisily. The Dragon put a scaly finger to her lips, "Shhh!"
The Doctor ignored the noise and continued.
"What's New Pussy cat, whoa-oh-whoa-a-whoa-ha!"
"WAIT A MINUTE! WAIT JUST A DOG GONE MINUTE!!" a voice cried from the upper balcony, everybody turned their attention to the source, there stood an incensed Vic Fontaine, "It states quite clearly in MY contract that I am the ONLY hologram allowed to perform on this station!!"
Q clapped his hands at the opportunity to get rid of one of his most annoying pet hates.
Yet another round yielded another interesting wager, several Borg were transported to the station much to Sisko's irritation, but even he was amused as the drone were made to follow some obscure yet popular dance that, after a series of meaningless moves: everyone of them cried, "Ah! Macareana! Ai!"
Another wager turned up a lot of red shirted ensigns, who Nog vigorously declared were the missing ensigns, no-one had a clue what he was talking about because every one of these ensigns were valued crew members and someone would have noticed their mass disappearence. Their hands on the person in front's hip and bent slightly forward, the ensign made their way around the tables, singing at the top of their voices, " Dar-la-la, la, HEY! la-la, la HEY!".
The dragon thumbed her cards thoughtfully, slyly eyeing her opponent over the top of her hand.
Needled, Q opened his mouth to say something.
It stayed open in puzzlement.
"Did you invite any of your friends here to watch?", he asked in disgruntled complaint.
The dragon turned and found herself looking into a mirror.
:- //What in the cosmos are you looking at, beanpole?//
The other dragon cleared its throat at the not-really-threatening-but-could- be-if-you're-not-careful challenge.
:// Uh. . . I just wanted to make a business proposal. An alliance, if you will?//
The dragon peered closer at the duplicate.:-// Quark? Is that you?//
By this time, everybody else was looking at the pair in utter confusion. Then realisation dawned.
:- //Oh, you're that wimpy changeling who's been running around the station wreaking havoc!//
:-// Er. . . //
As the fake 'dragon' was surrounded by increasingly hostile-looking starfleet people, he knew he had to make his case quickly. He had hoped this form would make the dragon more amenable to his suggestions - maybe he could hold her hostage as he tried to escape instead . . .
The dragon roared with laughter, which involved many people diving for cover to avoid singed hair.
:-// Hold me hostage? Are you out of your mind? Now go and harass someone else, I've got a card game to finish. //
She turned back to her card game.
The changeling decided to change tactics.
:- //Just a minute-//
Odo sensed the imposter getting uppity again. Luckily the station's entire security force seemed to have congregated here to deal with 'Beria' - or not to deal as the case may be. All Odo could do was watch as 'Beria' got closer to the fake dragon.
In a moment, those who hadn't scrambled out of the way during the dragon's outburst had trained phasers on the fake dragon and the excited Vorta.
:- //Look. Either somebody gets rid of this//- A claw waved at the fake dragon, "//Or I eat him. Okay?//
The fake gulped. Loudly.
"N-n-now, now, there's n-n-n-no n-n-need for petty arg-g-g-uuments, y-you know wh-what we n-need" 'Beria' stutter worserned as his grin split bigger. He breathed in sharply, " A good old fashioned GROUP HUG!!"
"SHUT HIM UP!!!" yelled Q, the dragon, the changeling, and the security officers.
One of the Borg drones stepped forward and stalked 'Beria' menacingly . . . For a brief moment, Sisko tore his eyes away from the game and gazed incredibly at the drone, "Are you going to assimilate him?" he asked hopefully. The drone turned slightly and answered him, "His assimilation would not further the perfection of the Borg, he is unworthy of becoming Borg." This was Borg speak for "No way man, he'll only dumb us down, we leave him with you, SUCKERS!!" and with that he swung his mechanical arm and knocked 'Beria' out. A cheer rose through the ranks. So this left only one distraction, all eyes settled on the counterfeit dragon.
Oh-oh.
He was doomed. He should never have come to the alpha quadrant.
There was only one thing for it.
The fake dragon dove for the real one, the real one turned and immediately began to bludgeon everything within sweeping distance of her tail as she swung round, except for Q who had prudently taken himself out of phase in case of just such an assault, and the two disappeared into a cloud of dust, which the dragon had conjured up for effect. One clawed hand remained out of the melee, still stationary and holding her cards as she beat up the poor unlucky soul.
The Borg drone 6 of 8 continued to do the macarina. She was stationed at the end of the line of drones similarly engaged in the dance. Then one of her fellows - between chanting 'this is irrelevant' and 'Hey, Macarina! Ai!' acquired an expression of consternation on his face.
6 of 8 sent him a deeply blank expression before slowly swivelling her neck and . . .
Her entire life as ensign Snese Midi Liliwa, and then as the borg drone 6 of 8, flashed before her eyes.
As did the onrushing dragon's tail .
"Uh oh. I'm boned."
6 of 8 managed a total of six seconds of total ironic disinterest as she blacked out.
The battle came to an abrupt end, with the dragon sitting on top of her dispiritedly coughing opponent.
:-// Erg. . . //
"Oh, grow up and stop this petty squabbling. Until after the game. No more interruptions," said Q. He clicked his fingers and the unfortunate changeling vanished. In its place appeared a large pile of gelatine-based squidgy stuff with little coloured bits in. It looked rather dejected and was smouldering gently.
