Rommie's Message

Disclaimer: I do not own any -thing or -one except the contents of this document. Everything, excepting only this story, belongs to Tribune or Gene Roddenberry. In any case, someone that is not me.

Summary: In chapter one, Harper delivers a very disturbing message. In chapter two, Rommie talks to Dylan about it (and Dylan loses his lunch). In chapter three, Rommie talks to Tyr about the message. Surprisingly enough, Tyr is the most helpful, and advises Rommie to respond and string the Prime Minister along.

A/N: I thought the last chapter was to serious for a humor story, so here's a short piece of pure nonsense and Harper-humiliation to make up for it. By the way, italic dialogue is computer language. And on with the story...

Interlude One - In which Harper hacks the Nazbulian security mainframe and wackiness ensues

Harper - So basically you want me to hack into the security net of the Capital Building of a strong nominee for Mrs. Most Paranoid Race, isolate one office out of the thousand odd in there, somehow decipher a medical scan program written in a language I can't read.

Tyr - You will be provided with a translator.

Harper - Translators screw up the moment they encounter third-grader syntax.

Tyr - Continue.

Harper - I must then slice us a bootleg feed, route it into his private comm terminal, then insert a complex program - which I shall write on the spot - to make it feed to us during Rommie's little chat. I must also do it all without being detected even though there are five separate AI's equal or above Rommie's caliber watching the net. Is that all? No problem. I should be done in a few years.

Tyr - You will have it ready by tomorrow night. At prime eventide first, when the Prime Minister returns from his jog and checks his message-logs.

Harper - One hour after sunset? That's not even twenty-four hours!

Tyr - Nazbulia has a rotation period of approximately thirty-six trigs, each of which has one hundred twenty subs. The binary star causes a long day and very short night. Prime eventide first is precisely twenty-five point ... eighty-three hours away. The majority of Nazbulian society observes a religious Sabbath beginning at first zenith. At full zenith, half the guards at the Capital Building are relieved. The other half stay. At prime zenith, the Sabbath ends.

Harper - Great. I can slip in while the system is loaded with people praying their heads off and be out before everybody stops praying or whatever.

Tyr - No! During the Sabbath, the AI's are changed over. Each one takes with it a full record of the entire net. When they are changed over again at eventide, the logs are compared. If anything, even a single bit, is found existing but without a documented activity to account for its presence, everything gets switched over to standby servers while the primary is purged with multi-million amp cross-polarized shocks that reset the entire grid to factory standard.

Harper - So...then it gets changed again at prime eventide six hours later, then logs are compared again. Tyr, you cannot be serious. You want me to hack into the most sophisticated net I've ever seen and get it all ready in an hour?

Tyr - Nazbulian trigs are actually seventy-three minutes.

Harper - Thirteen crotting minutes! Big fat whoop!

Tyr -- At prime eventide first, Harper. You can do it. [turns away]

Harper - Was that ... could it be? god forbid...encouragement? [gasps mockingly]

Tyr - [over shoulder] Don't push your luck, Harper.

Prime eventide, 2135 hours aboard the Andromeda: Harper finds a chair and plugs in.

Harper - Hack into the tightest security net on the most paranoid planet in existence, he says. Reprogram a medical monitor written in a crotting language unknown in civilized circles. Then slice up the Prime Minister's entire communications terminal and all in an hour. Hey there, beautiful.

Nazbulian operator - Thank you for calling via Nazbulian Planetary Communications. My name is Sasannesz Ghrashslr, and I'll be your operator. How may I help you?

Harper - I'd like to place an encrypted call to the Capital Building, Susie. By the way, you look absolutely stunning in that jumpsuit.

Operator - Extension code?

Harper - Ah, one-three-nine-five-seven-two-two-eight. Has anybody ever told you that blouse matches your eyes?

Operator - Encrypted call to CB58 extension 1395228. We offer twenty-seven levels of encryption. I will transmit a full list including prices immediately.

Harper - That's not necessary, babe. Just give me the highest one. And, ah, scramble the source headers and route them through a few sewage plants, would you?

Operator - [raises eyebrow] Yes sir. Alpha-encryption, with source header scrambling. Would the Municipal Waste Management Center and Salshzsa'aarlszz Sewage Treatment be acceptable? I must warn you, however, Salshzsa does not like scofflaws using his properties to cover their crimes up.

Harper - Who said I'm going to commit a crime, babe? Maybe I'm an undercover agent. [rakish grin]

Operator - You aren't a member race of the NTF. If you were an outside agent, your call would've been routed to some top secret government office.

Harper - That reminds me. [smile] Can I have your phone number, Susie?

Operator - Your call will be sent through momentarily. Meanwhile, please select your desired music from the menu. NPC is proud to offer selections from over seventy thousand composers from all over the galaxy, imported just for you.

Harper - Oh, you can take the menu away. I already know my choice.

Operator - Oh?

Harper - [smile] Your beautiful voice, my lady.

Operator - [brittle] Choose a damn piece of music and get out of my face, freak, before I report you for harassment.

Harper - [meek but upset] Number one, my dear lady.

Operator - Thank you for calling Nazbulian Planetary Communications. We are proud to be your domestic carrier. Please hold while your call is processed.

Rommie - [chuckle] Dissed and dismissed, Harper.

Harper - Hey, Rom-doll, she liked me. No question about it.

Rommie - Harper, you are unbelievable.

Harper - Of course I am. I'm the Harper. But, uh, this is private business, Rommie. So I'm gonna have to engage the privacy mode.

Rommie - [smirk] Another Nazbulian woman? You do realize that with Nazbulians, after the male impregnates the female, she passes the fertilized egg back into the male's body for the duration of the pregnancy, right?

Harper - [green] Oh God, Rommie! That's it, I'm going to engage privacy mode before you actually make me hurl.

Rommie - Privacy mode engaged. Note that while privacy mode is in place, basic diagnostic sensors will not function. It is very important to report all fires, smoke,

Harper - Yeah, yeah.

Operator - Your call has been placed.

Operator - You have reached ...

Harper - Security mainframe.

Operator - Please state your name $var(name_ID) and rank $var(rank_ID).

Harper - Store $var(name_ID) AND $var(rank_ID); $set(Hack-**)

Operator - Command accepted.

Harper - Retrieve $set(Hack-**)

Operator - [different voices] $set(Hack-01) Gre'hggriss Ga'shrashzar, Lieutenant. $set(Hack-02) Shfa'nasath Shafsarath, Duly Elected Representative of the People. $set(Hack-03) Zathashnar Sziseth, like, programmer or something.

Harper - Stop. Security mainframe.

Operator - Please state your name $var(name_ID) and rank $var(rank_ID).

Harper - Retrieve $set(Hack-03).

AI - Cleared. Welcome, Mr. Sziseth.

Harper - Alter transmission format to ... DPL-0134789537 dataport.

AI - Before you enter the mainframe, please take a moment to complete this survey. The results will be factored into the new renovation plans, particularly the graphic user interface.

Harper - What? Access security mainframe.

AI - I said, before you enter the mainframe, please take a moment to complete this survey. It is not optional, Mr. Sziseth.

Harper - Alright, fine. [thought] Damn, how the crot am I going to find out what this Sziseth guy likes?

AI - What is the length of your reproductive organ?

Harper - Mmph!! What?! Computer, command override /cmd ovr access security mainframe!

AI - What is the length of your reproductive organ?

Harper - What's it to you?

AI - Several employees have complained the urinals are too small or too low.

Harper - Is there a decline to state option?

AI - Nazbulians. So sensitive. Okay, recorded. Question two: Describe your ideal mate.

Harper - Hey, what does this have to do with a user interface?

AI - I don't make them up, buddy, I just ask them. Describe your ideal mate.

Harper - [dreamy voice] Rommie's mind ... Rommie's body ... Heck, Rommie!

AI - Nazbulian Records Administration does not recognize any citizen named Rommie.

Harper - Oh, sh*t.

AI - Nazbulian Records Administration does not recognize any citizen named Rommie O. Sh*t.

Harper - She's, uh, on the Andromeda Ascendant. No! I meant -

AI - Recorded. Okay, question three: What would you most prefer your prospective mate to wear to bed?

Harper - Mmpheurgh!

AI - Believe me. I'm not enjoying this any more than you are. To think of some of the answers I've received. When asked the length of his member, one man told me I could see for myself!

Harper - Uh...

AI - So...

Harper - /cmd ovr Access Security mainframe.

AI - Oh no you don't, Mr. Sziseth. What would you most prefer your prospective mate to wear to bed?

Harper - [sigh] A little black dress with no undergarments.

AI - No jewelry or accessories?

Harper - And black dress uniform boots. Happy?

AI - Recorded. Question four: Do you access pornographic materials at work?

Harper - I don't have any porn to look at.

AI - If you did.

Harper - I suppose.

AI - Would it reduce your productivity?

Harper - Nope.

AI - Thank you, Mr. Sziseth. I realize this has been rather embarrassing, but I'm told the new interface more than makes up for it.

Harper - It'd better.

AI - The new interface had been initialized. Transferring you now, Mr. Sziseth.

Harper - Thank - OH MY GOD!!!! [yanks jack out of dataport]

Tyr - Harper! Did the spyders catch you?

Harper - Yargh! [panting heavily] Good God! Tyr, you have no idea!

Tyr - The spyders caught you?

Harper - Spyders? Oh, the anti-hacker programs? No, no. Great Divine!

Tyr - What happened?!

Harper - Tyr, you wouldn't understand. Can I have some water? Hiya Trance. Didn't I engage privacy mode?

Trance - [gets water] Here you go, Harper. Privacy mode doesn't lock door, it just shut sensors down.

Harper - Oh, uh...well, I have to do something really important, Trance. Tyr. Could I have some privacy? It's about Rommie's message.

Trance - Okay, Harper! We'll lock the door for you too!

Harper - Thanks Trance.

Tyr - Be careful, boy.

Harper -Yeah, you too, Tyr. Don't forget to lock the door!

Tyr and Trance exit.

Harper - Whoo, baby! Haha, come to papa! [plugs back in] Ooh, wow...

Later.

Harper - I'm just saying that they had a nice interface, that's all.

Trance - You were going crazy over a computer inteface?

Harper - It's a guy thing.

Trance - If you say so. What was it like?

Harper - Well, see, they asked me a bunch of questions...

Trance - And by these questions they created a perfect user interface for you?

Harper - Based on my personal preferences. Beautiful software. I didn't know the Nazbulians had it in them.

A/N: I've got two endings for this one. Tell me which one you like better, please?

Rommie - Harper, what's this I hear with you babbling on about me in a little black dress?

OR

Rommie - Harper!

Harper - Yes, Rom-doll?

Rommie - Harper, I'd like to talk to you for a moment.

Harper - Eh, sure, heh-heh. [nervous laugh] Hey, uh, Rom-doll, why are you looking at me like that?

Rommie - You know, I've seen plenty of sick, twisted minds in the past, but you really take the cake.

Harper - What, Rom-doll, did I forget your birthday or something?

Rommie - The absolute nerve!

Harper - Rom-Rommie, what are you talking about?

Rommie - [all in a single breath] I can't believe you! A user interface composed entirely of me not even half-naked! How dare you!

A/N: I know, I know, it's long than all my other chapters combined. But Harper's such a nice fellow to write! Anyhoo, four reviews, please! Four reviews and Rommie chats with the Prime Minister!