No one has qualified for the Dedicato as of yet... Or have they?? Regardless, the winner (if any) will be announced after the story is complete, and speaking of which:
Why is the crew poking around in the middle of nowhere?
Did Nansy Pickles spend several years in the Merchant Marine?
Will Phlox be found alive?
Does Doctor Necessiter really have it all together?
Has Malcolm finally eluded his fine-feathered tormentor?
Find out the answers to these questions and more!
In this week's exciting episode of:
Natalie's Merchant
Chapter 5 - Plumpy is the Brim
Over the course of ten minutes, give or take, the weather turned from bone-chilling to balmy as the storm decided to dole its wrath elsewhere. The sun (or suns, as the case may be) appeared from behind the clouds and lit up a colorful assortment of alien rainbows. This crisscrossed blend of iridescent arches differed from normal, run-of-the-mill rainbows in that they had a notable absence of a certain shade of blue. On Earth, the shade would be called "periwinkle", on Trendar it wouldn't be called anything because they don't have that color.
Their periwinkle-less-ness notwithstanding, the rainbows were indeed a sight to behold and would have impressed every member of the landing party (had any been outside to see it). The two likeliest candidates for this psychedelic experience were currently ensconced in a shuttle pod, worrying about the still unconscious Nansy Pickles. Unbeknownst to them, however, they would be enjoying the splendors of nature quite soon.
"How long does it take for a stun to wear off?" Travis asked.
"Not long enough," Malcolm said grimly. "I wonder what she's doing out here?"
"I don't know," Travis said. "Looking for us?"
"Probably as good a guess as any," Malcolm responded. "The only question now is: why?"
The ever-yellow Nansy was stretched out in front of them on a narrow bench. Her arm dangled lifelessly from her side, and Travis gently lifted it and tried to make it stay with the rest of her, but the bench was too narrow, the arm was too limp, and the gravity was too determined to see it to the lowest point possible. Finally, Travis gave up and carefully stuffed her delicate hand into the pocket of her raincoat, giving her the appearance of a fashion model caught napping in mid-pose.
"Maybe we should use smelling salts," Travis suggested. He started for the medical kit but was quickly intercepted.
"Not so fast, Ensign," said Lieutenant Reed. "We don't know how she might react."
"Well, she'd probably just wake up, wouldn't she?"
"That's what I'm afraid of," Malcolm said warily. "Let's just let nature take its course, shall we?"
Travis nodded, and about three seconds later, nature did just that as Nansy's hand escaped the rubbery yellow confines of her rain jacket and once again dangled lifelessly at her side. This time, however, it was met by the affectionate tongue of a well-meaning Porthos.
Nansy stirred.
"Wait a minute," Travis said. "I think she's coming around!"
Nansy moaned.
"I suppose she is," Malcolm sighed.
Nansy blinked.
"Ms. Pickles? Are you ok?"
Nansy swore.
It is here where Nansy begins a tirade during which she makes liberal use of the F-word, the S-word, and multiple combinations thereof. She also uses the G-word, which happens to be Trendarian and untranslatable. Since we don't really want an R or NC-17 rating, we will self-censor all but the G-word, and if the fanfic editors don't like it, they can go ghlyth themselves.
"You BLEEP-ing shot me! Why the BLEEP did you BLEEP-ing shoot me??"
"Just calm down, Ms. Pickles," Malcolm soothed. "Everything's alright..."
"Alright? ALRIGHT??" Nansy screeched. "Let me BLEEP-ing shoot your sorry ass and say 'everything's BLEEP-ing alright'! I cannot believe this BLEEP-ing BLEEP!"
"It was my fault!" Travis confessed. "But it was an accident, I swear!"
Highly agitated, Nansy stood angrily up and just as quickly sat angrily back down as her body was still debating the finer points of phaser shock. Stunned in a somewhat different sense, both men rushed to her aid, which really didn't do much to help the situation.
"Get your BLEEP-ity-BLEEP-BLEEP-ing hands off me you damned dirty apes!"
"W-we were just trying to help," Malcolm stuttered. "Honestly!"
"Oh YEAH!" Nansy spat. "I really want your BLEEP-ing help! What? Are you gonna pick me up and 'acci-BLEEP-ing-dentally' throw me to the BLEEP-ing floor?? It's that the way you people operate? And just WHY-IN-THE-BLEEP is my BLEEP-ing hand so BLEEP-ing WET???"
"Uh, you got licked, Ma'am, by-"
In his defense, Ensign Mayweather intended to fully explain that the captain's pet had innocently licked her hand. His word order was somewhat unfortunate, however, because the part about the beagle remained undisclosed due to the fact that...
"You BLEEP-ing perverts!!"
"No! Please! You don't understand!"
"Oh, I think I understand plenty!" she raged. "I understand that you get your BLEEP-ity BLEEP-ing jollies by taking advantage of helpless BLEEP-ing women! You have no idea just what kind of BLEEP-ing trouble you ghlythers are in, but I assure you when- WHAT THE BLEEP IS THAT THING????"
"That is the captain's pet," Malcolm said with the tone of someone who's had just about enough. "He's the one who licked your bloody hand!"
"YOU LET A GIANT BLEEP-ING RAT LICK MY BLEEP-ING HAND???"
Before either of them could explain the differences between rats and dogs, Nansy apparently observed that there weren't enough objects flying through the air and immediately decided to do something about it. Considering that most of the items on the pod were stored away, her volume of fire was quite impressive. Malcolm and Travis found themselves stumbling over each other to "Get the BLEEP out!!", which they did, finally, as Nansy proceeded to wreck the shuttle pod.
"Oh, no!" Travis said. "I left my communicator in there!"
"Give her a minute."
(Moments later...)
"Look out!"
"Nice catch, Ensign."
"Thanks, Sir."
The two men watched in amazement as the shuttle pod rocked, rattled, tilted, shifted, and shook.
Man, that ship's had a rough day, Travis thought.
The show continued on for a long minute until both had the same disturbing vision. They turned and looked at each other, wide-eyed, and simultaneously gasped, "Porthos!", and not two seconds later, the dog appeared.
"Heads up!" shouted Travis.
"I've got him, I've got him!" Malcolm screamed as he stumbled towards the "landing" zone.
His rugby years well behind him, the good Lieutenant still made a spectacular catch. Porthos met his outstretched hands with a yap, and his tail was soon back up to speed. The dog safely on the ground, Malcolm sighed deeply and turned to Travis.
"Anything else in there we need to worry about?"
"Not that I can think of," Travis said. "Uh, Sir?"
"Yes?"
"Uh, where's the rest of the landing party?"
Malcolm startled at the thought.
"I knew I was forgetting something," he said as he reached for the communicator. "Captain Archer and Commander Tucker are presently in a cave."
"I see," said Travis. "And what about-"
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"Phlox!"
"Phlo-x-x-x!
(The following segment is brought to you in 2-D, so please open your browser at least as wide as this sentence.)
"This is ridiculous."
"Well, there's nothing we can do about it."
"I know, but still..."
"Trip..."
"I mean, we can figure out a way to
travel to strange new worlds, but we
can't come up with a flashlight that'll
last more than three hours?"
"Yeah, doesn't make sense, does it?"
"No, it doesn't. Just whose idea was
it to come into this cave, anyways?"
"Yours."
"I know... It was a rhetorical question."
"Are you coming over or are you just
gonna stand there and whine?"
"I'm comin'."
"Whoa! Not so fast! There's a drop-off."
"Thanks for lettin' me in on it."
"You have to hug the wall."
"Fine."
"Just feel your way along."
"Don't have much of a choice, do I?"
Hissssssssss!
"What the hell was that?"
"I-I'm not sure. Didn't sound friendly."
"Remind me why we don't have our
phase pistols?"
"Doctor Necessiter said this place was a
paradise, remember?"
Hissssss!
"I don't know about where you come
from, but where I come from, Paradise
doesn't hiss!"
"Just throw something at it."
"Like what?"
Hissssssssss!
"Try a rock."
"Half-way across the galaxy and
I'm reduced to chuckin' stones..."
Hissssssss!
Ker-chunk!
HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!
"Now he's really pissed."
HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!
"Try it again. Throw a bunch of 'em."
"Lord have mercy...."
Ker-chunk!
Ker-chunk!
Ker-plink!
Ker-plock!
HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!
Ker-squamp!
HISSS
S
S
S
s
s
s
s...
"I think he's gone."
Ker-chunk!
Ker-chunk!
Ker-plink!
Ker-plock!
"...?"
"..."
"What are you doing?"
"Just makin' sure."
"Oh."
"Alright. Here I come."
"Remember to hug the-"
"Yeah, yeah. Hug the wall."
"Just a little further."
"I hate caves."
"Since when?"
"Since about three hours ago..."
"Yeah, well."
"Whew... Ok, now what?"
"There's a passage behind me. I think it
leads to the entrance."
"Are you sure?"
"No."
"Look, I don't wanna start soundin' like
Malcolm... but maybe we'd better wait
until they come find us. I mean, we can't
see sh-"
"Trip, it'll be fine. Come on."
"You're the boss..."
"Captain? Commander?"
"Phlox?"
"What in the world are you doing down
here? This cave is extremely dangerous!"
"We were looking for YOU."
"Hey! Where'd you get the light?"
Hisssss!
"Well, it seems that the inhabitants of this
cave create their own! They're a remarkable
species, hmm?"
"What are they?"
Hisssssss!
"I believe they're similar to cockroaches. The
little fellows light up when you turn them on
their backs! Quite frankly, I'm surprised you
haven't encountered one already."
"Dumb luck I guess."
"I don't suppose you've seen Porthos?"
"Sorry, Captain, I'm afraid not."
"Travis?"
"Hide nor hair, as you say, hmm?"
"The ship?"
"Not a peep!"
"I see..."
Hissssss!
"You doin' ok?"
"Fit as a fiddle!"
"Good."
"Well, gentlemen, shall we?"
"Dance?"
"Now, now, Commander! Shall we rejoin
the rest of the landing party?"
"Well, I'm all for that, but the cap'ain says
the exit's this way..."
"Nonsense! It's right up here!"
"We just came from there, Phlox."
"It's a dead end."
"Really? Hmm..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Hissssss?
"Well, I'll be a son of a-"
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"...BLEEP! And I'm not BLEEP-ing kidding!"
(Meanwhile, back at the shuttle pod - or what was left of it.)
"You'd think she'd be out of steam by now," Travis noted.
"Apparently not," Malcolm sighed.
Having successfully contacted Enterprise, Malcolm and Travis were busy waiting out their second storm of the day. Presumably, high above them, a search and rescue party was being organized by T'Pol. She had urged them to "remain calm" and promised them that "help will arrive shortly."
"She says that a lot."
"...and my BLEEP-ing lawyer!!"
"Who?"
"T'Pol," Travis said. "She's always telling everyone to stay 'calm'."
"I hadn't noticed."
"...wasn't born BLEEP-ing yesterday, and..."
"Well, she does," Travis said. "I guess to her, though, all humans are panicky."
"I suppose," Malcolm said.
"...you BLEEP-ing BLEEPs!! Did you hear me???"
"Would you kindly hand me your phase pistol."
"Sir?"
"Your phase pistol, Ensign."
"You're not g-going to..."
"Don't be ridiculous!" Malcolm said. "It's that damned bird I'm after!"
He pointed skywards just as a voice from above rang out.
"Buggerov! Squawk! Squawwk! Tweeet!"
Travis looked up and saw an odd-looking bird perched high in an attractive tree. The bird seemed to be having a wonderful time.
"You're going to shoot that bird?" Travis asked as he nonchalantly dodged an emergency ration pack.
"Well, shoot at, yes," said Malcolm. "Hit? I haven't decided yet."
"Do you have a reason?"
"Other than the fact that it really, really gets on my nerves? No."
Travis shrugged and handed over his pistol. Malcolm was just about to take justifiable aim when, suddenly, the noisy little clearing in which they were standing got significantly noisier. For the purposes of clarity, the individual sounds are listed below:
1. The Assistant to the Undersecretary of Tourism continued to shriek inside the ragged shuttle pod.
2. The shuttle pod continued to creak due to the above.
3. The odd-looking bird in the pretty tree maintained his merry squawking.
4. Porthos began barking because he saw someone come out of the woods on the far side of the clearing.
5. That someone was meekly calling out the name, "Nan-n-n-sy!"
6. He was soon drowned out by a whirring noise, which caused Porthos to bark even louder.
7. The whirring noise grew more intense and quickly turned into a shuttle pod - the other shuttle pod - which began to land in the meadow.
Malcolm sighed again and handed the pistol back to Travis. He recognized the fellow who was currently being whipped by the landing draft as the Assistant to the Secretary of Technology, Goff Pugh, the supposed love interest of Nansy Pickles. When he had first met him the day before, he had wondered why the man didn't seem overly enthusiastic about their relationship. As it stood now, however...
The shuttle pod touched lightly down as Goff stumbled up to Malcolm and Travis.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, "but have you seen-?"
"...just wait'll my BLEEP-ing boyfriend gets here!!"
"Oh, dear," mumbled Goff. "What happened?"
"Well, it's my fault," Travis admitted. "I accident- Hush, Porthos! I accidentally shot her."
"Really?"
Travis nodded his head.
"Wow."
"I'm very sorry."
"I'm sure you didn't mean any harm," Goff said sympathetically. "Everyone makes mistakes..."
"Pardon me, Goff," Malcolm interrupted, "but may I ask just what on earth the two of you are doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"
"Looking for you."
"We figured as much," Malcolm smirked. "Now, why is that?"
"Well, you see, it's like this:"
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Iambard squeaked.
I don't like that, he thought.
He shifted in his chair and plainly squeaked again.
I thought I had this thing fixed, he puzzled. He then leaned forward, squeaked a third time, and pressed the intercom button.
"Jooly, wasn't the chair man supposed to come by?"
"Which chairman, Sir?"
"The chair man to fix my chair? It's still squeaking."
"You never ordered a chair man, Sir, but I'll send for one right away," she said. "Who would you like?"
"Try for Shaltmore," he said. "If you can't get him, try Keltzman."
"Yes, Sir."
Truth be told, Doctor Iambard Necessiter, Trendar's beloved Tech-Sec, was tired and still a little foggy after the previous day's attempts to locate some spare plasma relays for the Earthlings. Still pondering the experience, he squeaked for his coffee, then he squeaked for his paper, then, putting his feet up on his desk, he promptly squawked.
"Hmm," Iam thought out loud. He squeaked forwards and buzzed his secretary again. "Jooly, could you tell Goff to come to my office?"
Goff cleared his throat.
"I'm, uh, right here, Sir," he said softly.
"Good God!" Necessiter squeaked loudly. "Never mind, Jooly."
"Yes, Sir."
"How long have you been sitting there?"
"Since eight, Sir. That's when our meeting was scheduled."
"Oh," Necessiter squeaked. "Well, run along then..."
"Uhhh..."
"Yes?"
"You wanted to see me about something, Sir?"
"What?" he squeaked. "Oh, of course! Goff, do you remember yesterday when we took the aliens to the Penelope Ultra High Tech Storage Facility on Natalie II?"
"Yes, Sir, I was there with you."
"Yes, I thought so," the Secretary squeaked. "And do you remember how Captain Tucker and I spent all day looking for those plasma relays?"
"Commander Tucker," he corrected. "Yes, Sir."
"And how when we finally found them, she said they wouldn't work?"
"He, Sir," Goff corrected. "Yes, Sir."
"He?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Are you sure?"
"Quite sure, Sir."
"Hmmm... Well, regardless, do you remember how 'he' said they wouldn't work because of the quality of our itinium?"
"Itonium, Sir," Goff corrected. "Yes, Sir."
"And do you remember how I told him that, although we couldn't help, Brim might be able to?"
"No, Sir."
"Brim Plumpy?"
"No, Sir."
"The merchant? Originally from the Chalopy System? Moved here with his family a few years back?"
"No, Sir."
"..."
"When did you mention this particular merchant?" Goff asked.
"I believe...um...let's see," Necessiter squeaked. "We found the relays, Tucker said she couldn't use them, you and Nansy went home, then I took the aliens to dinner... And after dinner, we had drinks, and that's when I told them!"
"I'd gone home by then, Sir." Goff said.
"Then you couldn't possibly know."
"No, Sir."
"Well, I may need you to run an errand for me later," the Secretary squeaked. "I think I may have left out an important detail regarding Mr. Plumpy."
"Certainly Sir."
"You see," Necessiter squeaked slowly back in his chair. "Brim specializes in all kinds of hard-to-find items, and there's a chance that he might have some relays or some high-grade itinium, or more likely, he might know where to get them..."
"I'm sure they were happy to hear that."
"They were," he squeaked, "until I told them that Brim was currently on vacation in the far northwest of Natalie II and virtually unreachable."
"I see."
"But I gave them the general coordinates, and they said they would take one of their hideous runabouts and go look for him this morning."
"And you need me to find them?" Goff asked.
"I think it's for the best..."
"And tell them what, Sir?"
"Oh, yes! Tell them that Brim Plumpy is-"
The intercom beeped.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Sir," Jooly said, "but the chair man is here."
"The chairman of what?"
"The chair man is here to fix your chair," she said.
"That's great!" Doctor Necessiter squeaked. "Who'd you get?"
"Haarvie Shaltmore."
"The Haarvie Shaltmore?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Excellent choice, Jooly!"
"Thank you, Sir," she said. "Shall I send him in?"
"By all means!" he squeaked, then he quickly scribbled some coordinates on a Paste-It Note. "Careful out there, Goff. It's monsoon season."
"But, Sir..."
"And, uh, take Nansy with you," he added. "Her translation skills might come in handy."
"But, Sir..."
"I'm sure it'll be alright with Berralack."
"But, Sir..."
"If he gives you any trouble, just let me know."
Before Goff could protest again, Haarvie Shaltmore burst through the double doors and marched up to the desk. Iambard stood and greeted him warmly.
"I'm so glad you could come on such short notice!" he smiled.
"Yes, yes, where is it?" Haarvie demanded.
"Right here."
Haarvie took one look at the chair and let loose a weary sigh.
"Sometimes you people make me sick," he said contemptuously.
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"And?"
"And I went and picked up Nansy in my runabout, and we flew over here to find you."
"What about Brim Plumpy?"
"Buggerov!" squawked the bird.
"Shut up!" Malcolm yelled. "Well?"
"He didn't say," mumbled Goff.
"You didn't ask?" Travis said. "What if it's important?"
"You don't understand," Goff explained. "He was with Haarvie Shaltmore. The Haarvie Shaltmore?"
They both looked at Goff as if he was completely mad. Goff shrugged.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you three," Hoshi interrupted. "But shouldn't we be getting to the cave?"
"Hello, Hoshi," Malcolm smirked. "It's good to see you, and don't take this the wrong way, but why did T'Pol send you on a rescue mission?"
"Well, I'm supposed to act as translator if we ever find Brim Plump- Is, uh, she alright?" Hoshi whispered, nodding towards the screaming pod.
"She's a bit upset," Malcolm said.
"I accidentally shot her," Travis admitted.
"Really?"
Travis nodded his head.
"Wow."
"Speaking of which," Malcolm said to Goff. "Do you think you could...?" (He thumbed towards the battered shuttle.) "I mean, while the ship is still space-worthy?"
"You want me to go in there?" Goff asked.
"If you don't mind," Malcolm said, then he carefully inquired, "Does she, uh, get like this...often?"
"As shines the sun, so falls the rain," Goff mused quietly. "So falls the rain."
He gathered himself, took a deep breath, and headed towards the open hatch. The three officers glanced at each other briefly before turning just in time to see Ensign Driver step out of the functional shuttle pod. He was followed by Crewmen Jones, Smith, Williams, and Miller, each of whom was carrying a selection of ropes, backpacks, and long-lasting flashlights.
"Did you guys see all those rainbows?" Hoshi asked.
"No," Travis said. "Were they pretty?"
"Unbelievable!" she said. "Though... I think they were a little off... Uhhh, Travis?"
The ensign looked where she pointed - behind him - but didn't see anything. Then he felt the tap on his shoulder. It was Goff - two-fisted, squared-jawed Goff.
"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to defend yourself," he said meekly.
Travis blinked in disbelief.
"Uhhh," he stammered. "Lieutenant?"
"Kick his BLEEP-ing ass for him!" Nansy screeched.
"Squawk squawk tweet Buggerov tweet!" cheered the bird.
"Shut up!" Malcolm yelled, then he turned to Goff. "Look, I appreciate your desire to defend your lady's honour..."
"Not so tough, now, are you, you BLEEP-ing BLEEPs!"
"...but, right now," Malcolm continued. "We really need to find our people, not to mention Brim Plumpy, and-"
"Squawk, Buggerov! Squawk! Tweet-a-tweet-a-tweet!"
"Shut up!" Malcolm yelled. "What I'm saying is-"
"Uh, Sir?" Hoshi interrupted.
"Just a moment, Hoshi. What I'm saying is-"
"Sir, that bird just said, 'Come on, Buggerov, Let's have a show then, what!"
"Really, Hoshi, this is no time for-"
She showed him the translation padd.
"No," Malcolm mumbled. "It can't be..."
"Don't you people understand Chalopan?" Nansy rasped. "Do the math! Plumpy's a BLEEP-ing bird!"
"Better than a bunch of talking monkeys, eh?" Brim joked. "What, what!"
For the moment, however, most of the monkeys were quite speechless.
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