Battle Beyond the Stars ( A bear's-eye view of the "PALLAS-AS-F***" Eurotour 2002)

PART ONE

PROLOGUE:

These are the voyages of the Starship Tinky-Winky... A nine-day mission, to seek out new audiences, play music, and sell t-shirts.. To boldly go where far too many others have already been....


Let me introduce myself. My name is Cubby T Kirk, Captain of the Starship Tinky-winky. Although it's unusual for small stuffed bears to become Starship commanders, it really isn't an excuse for the fast one that Starfleet pulled giving me such a low-rent crew..

The Tinky-winky's one of the best ships in its class. 16 bunks, wide-screen DVD, Swimming pool, sauna, holo-deck etc. All in a very classy Metallic Purple... Why-oh-why we got such a motley and depraved lot on board I don't know.

We began our journey on the far outer regions of civilised space at Starbase Hirn, in the Banchory quadrant. As I saw the crew board I knew there'd be trouble. At the helm we had Yeoman Bernie, who I knew of old to be a useful man in a tight spot, if a trifle taciturn. My first officer was Mike B. Also a reliable sort, tho given to spending too many hours staring at a computer screen trying to solve impossible mathematical formulae. Our Science Officer, Wiz, was a dependable man with many years service, and Head of Security, G.C., would make sure none of the passengers got out of hand.

I was more concerned with the more recent additions to the team, some of whom could be a little less predictable. Les "the Kilt" has a fearsome reputation as an engineer, but his Klingon upbringing meant he had an equally fearsome one as a warrior and party-animal. Some of this appeared to have rubbed off on his deptuy, Ian. The two had served together on the freighter "Q audio", a ship whose dark exploits are known across the galaxy. Lastly there was Owen; a new addition whose mild exterior - we were to discover - hides a darker side.

Most worrying of all were the passengers. It's not usual for Federation Starships to carry civilians, except in emergencies or on diplomatic missions. But Starfleet felt the level of security needed for the safe transfer of this particular group required the best in the fleet. The Enterprise was busy, so they sent us.

Passenger Roster:

Graeme Murray (or Number 1 as he was also known): A bear of a man whose reputation among lesser races as the God of Thunder was easily explained.Niall Mathewson: A sickly looking creature with joint addictions to Tea and Tobacco, yet capable of a deadly sudden whirlwind of guitar.Ronnie Brown: Outwardly calm and collected, but inwardly a keyboard demon burning with the desire to bend the universe to his will. Colin Fraser: Friendly and affable, with a kind word for everyone - you needed to keep your eye on him. Alan Reed: A hobbit of the worst kind, given to skipping around like a nancy-boy under the influence of his chosen drug - Adrenalin. (This last would be joining us at our first port of call; the Rain Planet, Bishopton.)


EPISODE 1: ROCK THE RAIN PLANET (& The Bug-Blatter Beast from Thrall)

Stardate 18:01:02

Fully equipped and provisioned we slipped orbit from Starbase Hirn and set course for the Rain Planet, Bishopton, on medium warp. Crew and passengers alike were delighted by the improved facilities on the TW, and spent most of the journey exploring the ship. Few had managed to settle their belongings into their allotted cabins by the time we were ready to rendezvous with the frontier settlement on Bishopton.

Our passengers comprised an (allegedly) musical group and our mission was to profer the required assistance for a number of performances across the sector. The locals here were keen to take advantage of any offer of entertainment, and though conditions were spartan there was a warm welcome to ship and crew.

Wiz was disappointed that health and safety concerns about possible radiation burns would prevent him from useing the array of lighting and effects units he had obtained to accompany the concert. But he was mollified when he realised that most of our other ports of call would not be so limited in scope. We'd been delayed slightly on our journey, so time was tight preparing for the concert. All around us the locals continued their day-to-day drinking, gambling and fighting - unperturbed by the sight of so much advanced technology.

The passengers were well-known in these parts, having been at the centre of a bizarre ritualistic cult that dominated the region many years past. It was rumoured that their former leader - a man-beast known as Woolyarse - would join them to re-enact some of their most depraved ceremonies.

Come showtime a motley collection of Bishoptonians were gathered for the first concert in what the passengers were calling their "tour". And what a performance? I have seen many strange things in my time with Starfleet, but none so immediatley affecting as this strange group of barbarians at their instruments. I had worried that the crew seemed strangley drawn to these creatures of the night, but now I found myself tapping my paws to the powerful "beat music" that they created. Being new to the material, it's difficult to recount much detail on the material on offer, but it seemed pre-occupied with science and religion... But it was greeted with boundless enthusiasm by the assembled locals.

As the crowd roared with religious fervour the Hobbit made some sort of announcement in his native gibberish which drew another huge cheer that ended in the appearance of old Woolyarse himself. Somewhat stockier of build than Starfleet records indicated, he nevertheless made a fearsome sight as he put "the moves" on those assembled. His voice was as eerie and powerful as of old, and it took all my years of Starfleet training to resist the hypnotic effects he was using. Those Bene Gesserit could learn a thing or two.

Their concert completed the passengers (whom I had now learned termed themselves collectively as " The Pallas") celebrated their successful performance with a small party, which continued on our return to the ship. Even some of the crew were persuaded to partake - against all standing orders. I may have to discipline some of them in the morning, but for now I am prepared to let things lie.


EPISODE 2: DVD's IN QUARKSPACE (and other mysteries)

Stardate 19:01:02

Our next rendevous was with the gas giant London. Having made good time overnight I bid the ship hold a standing orbit at some distance until it was time for our allocated arrival. As many of you will know, the London system is so heavily populated that the gravitational pull will rapidly distort both speed and all financial transactions. The only thing was for us to make a rapid approach at the alloted time, dropping our payload, before the TW flew off to a safe distance until required again. Being now somewhat more sympathetic with the aims of "The Pallas" , I ensured that the transfer was as efficient as possible and was moved to remain on London to witness another of these strange "gigs" (as I was now learning to call them).

During the "soundcheck" (a strange term for a decidely non-musical experience which takes may aeons longer than the actual performance) I learned that the Hobbit was himself a relative stranger to music, having previously merely been the singer. Much mirth was had at some of the peculiar sounds issuing from his equipment. His protestations that it was the fault of "this F***ing FX unit" fell on deaf ears. Before showtime one of the cult's followers presented him with a traditional ethnic jacket, which did much to improve on his wild appearance (Thanks, Ken)

The show itself allowed Wiz to experiment with some of his previously mentioned lighting units. The venue itself was well equipped with the latest starfleet technology, which he integrated with his own equipment to dazzling effect. "The Pallas" made a stirring entrance as Wiz bathed the performance space in columns of flame, the assembled throng abandoning themselves in a religious frenzy within moments.

The larger space of this venue allowed "The Pallas" more room to manouvre, cajoling the audience to greater ecstacies. All seemed well until a particularly powerful piece (Tower of Babble) dissolved into silence as some key technical device failed. I later learned that a stray finger had silenced the group's computer and that the moment had been irrecoverable.

To the audience this seemed to matter little and "The Pallas" were required once more to engage in additional ritual; this time without the assistance of Lord Woolyarse who had deigned to remain on Bishopton. The Hobbit was even encourage to engage in a lewd act, removing his clothing to musical accompaniement. This drew much comment from some in the crowd.

"The Pallas" felt they had triumphed once more.. the mood amongst them was increasingly certain that they were on their ordained path. Even the loss of several DVD archives during transfer from dressing room to loading bay did little to dampen their enthusiasm.

However, as we waited for the return of the TW, it was becoming clear to me that my crew were now firmly in the grip of some sort of enchantment. They traded jokes and beer with "The Pallas", and seemed set on serving their every need. Once again this continued once we returned aboard. Some of the crew appeared even more enthusiastic that the passengers in the consumption of alcohol and the playing of loud music.

Part of me tells me I must act if I am to save us from Domination (if that is indeed whence they come). But I feel somehow unable, as if I myself have been won over by their sorcery. Will I lose control of the ship? will we become nothing but drones in the service of the Domination?

PAARRTYY ON DUUDE!!!... AHAHAAAAHH!!!!

....entry ends

'MORE TO FOLLOW!!