Tachyon

All right, I'm doing it every five days because a week seems long. :D This "week's" winner is Montague. It wasn't easy to choose, I saw a lot of funny captions, but the picture really does make it look like Kirk is feeling Uhura's cheek. . . . Kirk and Uhura from TOS' "Plato's Stepchildren" ------------------------ New Picture: I don't know from what episode this is (presumably early season) but it does deserve to be captioned. Oh so deserving. :D

Reportedly Roddenberry wished to ignore most of TAS as non-canon. The Caitians are cool though. :D And Nicolas Meyer should have been around too. He was involved in Trek IV and VI, both were great movies. Well, technically you will still be paying to see it. At least, you do pay for your television . . . right? :D :D

The writers wanted each species to symbolize various religions (not specifically, but as a whole) so that the coexistence of these species could show how various religions could coexist and still maintain their beliefs. Bajorans with their religion, Klingons with theirs, coexisting together. :D

That is correct. :D

Ooh! Robert Picardo. :D He played the Doctor on Voyager, of course, and showed up as an EMH in Star Trek: First Contact. He also appeared on DS9 as Dr. Lewis Zimmerman in "Doctor Bashir, I Presume." Perhaps, but Reg Barclay was not a main character on Voyager. What type of discriminating amplifier did Data's brain have? (Bonus if you can name the type that Lore's brain had as well. :D )

Tim Russ (Tuvok) appeared in Star Trek: Generations as the tactical guy on the Enterprise-B. He also made two appearances in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, the first as the Klingon T'Kar in "Invasive Procedures" and then as his mirror-universe self in "Through the Looking Glass." Ethan Phillips (Neelix) appeared in Star Trek: First Contact as a holographic club maitre 'd. He also appeared in Star Trek: The Next Generation as Dr. Farek in "Menage a Troi" and as Ulis in Star Trek: Enterprise's "Acquisition." Robert Duncan McNeill (Tom Paris) did not appear in any movies (I think) but played Nick Locarno in "The First Duty" on Star Trek: The Next Generation. :D

Judges? A sperm whale, a bowl of petunias, and Arthur Dent> Correct!

On what deck of Voyager are Lieutenant Ayala's quarters located? :D

They have a book now? ^_^ New-fangled modern technology. . . . Meh . . . I'll give it a shot. Shields (at least the Federation variety) are in fact energy fields created by charged gravitons emitted from various special emitters along the hull of a starship. Gravitons are hypothetical particles that are responsible for gravitation. :D The gravitons create an additional gravitational effect and thus a space-time distortion. When an object hits this distortion, the distortion absorbs its momentum and, if the object is explosive or it is energy of some kind, the energy created by the object. Shields are "weakened" by continued exposure to energy over a short period of time, thus draining the effectiveness of the distortion. This can be compensated for a period of time by increasing power to the shields. At least that's how I understand it . . . I know that shields are made up of gravitons and that gravitation = space-time distortion, but the rest is just extrapolation from that knowledge. :D

But it would have eventually come out on DVD, or another channel would have picked it up as they syndicated it, et cetera. ^_^ As it is now, no new episodes are produced anywhere.

I agree that McFadden wasn't the problem, it was the Crusher character. The writers really presented her as two-dimensional for the first part of the series, and by the time they started opening her up to more stories, the series was already winding down and they squandered their chances at romance stories. Pulaski was only around for a season but her character established itself better than Crusher's.

Happy Canada Day from a proud Canadian particle. ^_^

“And They All Fell Down” Stardate 0507.01 Lieutenant Dave Grey --------------------------------------------------------- “I reject your reality and substitute it with my own.” —Adam Savage It would be good to get back to Earth again. See the cities, visit my family, check up on all my favourite locations. Yes, some vacation time would be nice. There were always things to do, especially after such a long stint away from home. Oh, wait, that’s right . . . there’s only one problem, it’s not my Earth. It’s not even my universe! Someone yanked me out of my own universe and thrust me into an unpalatable situation in order to destroy a ship that wasn’t even my responsibility in the first place. I believe that, under these conditions, I’m allowed a small amount of anger right now. I have a few issues when it comes to what’s been happening. The first one is pretty obvious, that I do not appreciate being taken from my own reality without my permission. Secondly, I do not appreciate being nearly killed and then told I have to go on a potentially suicidal mission. Thirdly, I think I need to calm down and take a break . . . this log sounds really angry. Okay, deep breath. That’s it Grey, you can do it. Now try again. When we destroy the Defiant, we will not only take out its crew, but a sizable chunk of the docking structure to which it is attached. I’m just not sure we should kill those people. Which is why I resent the Tholians for doing this to us—perhaps these humans (or “Terrans” as they call themselves) are truly savage and barbaric, but it’s still not our call to make. The Tholians should clean up their own mess rather than try to get us to do it. Besides, not much is known about them . . . they say we will be returned unharmed after we are successful, but I am sceptical. What if they do not? Still, I’m going to go through with it. I saw something in this universe that might be worth all the trouble, all the anger, all the difficulty. I saw something that could end a strife that has afflicted me for months now. I saw hope. It existed briefly as a rotating molecule on a sickbay screen, and now I am the person who has to bring that back to my universe. I’m doing this for you, sis.

“Que Sera, Sera” Stardate 0507.01 Ensign Tandaris Admiran ---------------------------------------------------- All right. Sometimes, you just have to know where to draw the line. That line may come in many shapes and sizes. It may be extremely clear and ramrod straight, or blurry and a bit wavy. Regardless of its appearance, the line has to be drawn somewhere. The question, of course, is “Where does one draw the line?” The answer is arguably at the point where you start strapping deck plating to a shuttle. Tandaris found the request a surprising one, even if it was effective. If there was one thing he was learning out here on Excalibur, however, it was this: You go with what works, even if the plan seems crazy. Even better, the perfect plan should also be extremely dangerous and perhaps even suicidal. If these conditions are satisfied, the plan will most like work (or you’ll die, but then you won’t have to worry about the outcome anyway). It was unfortunate that Tandaris was not available to help prep the shuttle. In what was probably the most embarrassing moment of his life, he had fallen halfway between the two engineering levels and needed medical attention. According to the good Dr. Delgado, his injuries were not severe, and he indeed felt better after a few minutes. However, those few minutes were enough that the shuttle’s preparation time was over—it needed to be launched, and fast. Tandaris regretted not being able to help, and tried to make himself as useful as possible in the interim. Considering the situation, however, Tandaris was quite happy not being on that shuttle. He had a feeling that after they left the ship, their mission would probably not be a fun one, and Tandaris did not envy them. They were, in effect, entering heavily occupied Romulan space while trying to avoid detection. It was crazy. Speaking of which, Tandaris could not fathom why the Romulans were here in the first place. Although his knowledge of interstellar history was a bit hazy, as far as he could remember, the Romulans had not exactly been keen on territory grabs in recent years. And in the Gamma Quadrant . . . to him, their motives were definitely obscure. He could only hope that the diplomats and higher-ups were having better luck at unravelling the mystery of their Romulan friends, or else friends they might no longer be.

The way Voyager ruined the Borg, definitely. Actually, I do really like the appearance of the Borg on Voyager, they were a good addition to the show. However, every time they appeared on Voyager, they seemed smaller and even less powerful than before, to the point that after "Endgame," they were severely weakened (for awhile, at least). The Borg are more suited to movie villains than series villains. If not that, then Star Trek V. . . . :lol:

I just saw the season finale. It was awesome! The writers are getting a very good grip on Doctor Who, I just couldn't bear watching the episode, it was so sad and wonderful at the same time. Doctor Who is almost as great as Battlestar Galactica (which is high praise, considering that BSG is probably the greatest hope of the SF genre right now). Its only weak point is that I don't think the loss of both series regulars would benefit the series, it might reduce its quality. I really enjoyed Christopher Eccleston's performance as the Doctor. He was awesome and embodied, "Fantastic!" :lol: Admittedly, I haven't gotten to know this new doctor (to the tune of only seeing him for about thirty seconds) but already I must regretfully opine that I dislike him. Perhaps my opinion will change next season, I don't know . . . the show just won't be the same.

I too am eagerly awaiting the release of Serenity. When Space started showing episodes of Firefly, at first I thought it was weird--an SF show with a Western look? But eventually it grew on me and now I can't wait to see a continuation to the series. :P The Fantastica Four looks like it will be a nice action movie but little more than special effects. I've seen Mr. and Mrs. Smith and can say I did not like it at all. They took a slightly interesting concept, two name actors, and tried to make a good movie, but they failed horribly. The movie ends abruptly without much resolution, and I must say that I did not enjoy it that much at all. Other than those, I don't know about many other movies coming out soon.

“The Fourteenth Minute” Stardate 0506.26 Lieutenant Arthur Dent ------------------------------------------------------------- The station held its collective breath for a moment, but then activities continued. In this vacuum of tension, the only thing one could do was continue with one’s work desperately to the exclusion of all external events. Otherwise, one might get trapped in a loop of severely depressing thoughts, as Arthur Dent was right now. It must be a Thursday . . . he never could get a hang of Thursdays. Halfheartedly, Dent agreed with Meve’s joke—at least, he hoped it was a joke—about blowing up Cardassia and going for vacation. He made a note in the log to speak with Zhu about planetbusting weapons to add to their arsenal. . . . On one monitor on the Control Tower, red numbers calmly counted down in the order of sixteen minutes, the time Admiral Meve had given Prime Minister G’Serk to surrender. Unfortunately, it seemed that the Prime Minister was not going to surrender, and Dent wondered what would happen next. The timer continued to count down inexorably, avoiding Dent’s glares of disapproval. Soon, it would hit the two-minute mark, an indication that fourteen of the allotted sixteen minutes had passed without much occasion. And in the instances to follow, Dent would inform the Admiral, and the consequences would unfold as surely as bread lands butter side down. Murphy’s Law as peculiar that way, but Dent did not blame Murphy at all. Three minutes . . . two minutes, forty seconds . . . two minutes, twenty seconds . . . the red digital display continued its descending progression. Suddenly, the awaited numbers graced the screen. A two followed by several increasingly smaller zeros. Dent’s heart skipped a beat, but the timer itself continued unheeded. For Dent, the number may be significant, but for the timer it was just another step on the road to zero. Dent’s entire anxiety, all of his stress and worry, was utterly arbitrary and artificially constructed. He sighed and felt that he needed an outlet. A good holodeck simulation to relieve the stress, blow off some steam, and otherwise relax. One could only work so long before winding oneself so tight that one was likely to snap. Dent cleared his throat and announced, “Fourteen minutes, Admiral.”

“Upon Further Review, Your Universe Was Weighed, It Was Measured, and Has Been Found Wanting. Please Hold” June 23, 2155 Lt.jg Dave Grey --------------------------------------------------- Interesting times a plenty. After helping out in sickbay, Grey left for the science lab to actually do some work. His body still ached, both physically and mentally, from the ordeal of the past few hours, but he felt much better. His locale did not do much to improve his health. Even though this was the Challenger, it was not the same Challenger, it was not his Challenger. This one was subtly different. The corridors had a little less light, one of the doors was painted a slightly deeper shade of steel blue, and of course the crew members constantly wore belligerent yet subdued expressions. It seemed more like a siege fortress than any sort of exploratory vessel. Grey reflected upon the barbaric nature of the “Terrans” in this universe and wondered what had prompted them to become like this. And who was he to be disgusted? They had just as much right to be “barbaric” by his standards as he was “barbaric” to theirs. The nonexistent science lab, at least, was in the correct place. He entered and saw T’Parek working diligently. They did not exchange many words, because of course she was a Vulcan and Grey was just plain boring. Thus began what would have been a typical day, save the fact that they had been transferred across universes on a mission to destroy a futuristic starship in the hands of a barbaric human empire. Their predicament only resulted in the slightest increment of Grey’s stress. The work at hand concerned the vessel, which appeared to be named Defiant. Grey looked over the data available and began to work on how to exploit it for their advantage. After much discussion with Lieutenants Giovanni and Williams, and Lieutenant (jg) T’Parek, they decided to infiltrate the Defiant and overload its warp core. As for the data locked up in the computer core beneath the palace, another team would have to infiltrate that area and delete all data pertaining to the Defiant using a carefully constructed computer program. The method of deletion confirmed, the engineers would of course be the ones building the computer program. It was up to the science department to figure out weaknesses in the palace and Defiant so that they could infiltrate both locations. So yes, it was a very typical day. It just wasn’t supposed to be a day in the life of this Grey.

“Di-Agnosticism” Stardate 0506.23 Ensign Tandaris Admiran ------------------------------------------------------ As soon as Tandaris got aboard Excalibur, clearly no time was wasted getting him involved in the middle of things. He had barely met his colleagues and some other crew members before the Excalibur was sent off on “tactical maneuvers.” Considering their course and the Excalibur's real purpose in the Gamma Quadrant, these maneuvers were significantly more than training exercises. Tandaris busied himself by making sure that the cloaking device was working within optimal limits. One of the most important pieces of technology aboard the Excalibur, the cloaking device was absolutely essential to their present mission—the Romulans would not take too kindly to discover the presence of the Excalibur. And of course, according to what humans may call “Murphy’s Law,” the cloak was therefore the most likely piece of equipment to be fickle of temperament. The minor power fluctuations revealed by the last diagnostic were enough to show that its controls needed some adjustment at least. Never having the opportunity to work on a cloak before, especially not a custom-built model such as this one, Tandaris had to work slowly as he grasped its concepts. Luckily, Admiran knew a thing or two about cloaks from some previous experiences that . . . well, they ended up with a large synthehol tab and two very unhappy Romulan prison guards. Suffice it to say, Tandaris was able to figure out the basics of the system. He was confident that as he spent more time working with Excaliburand getting to know her systems, he would become better attuned to her quirks and quarks. While the cloak itself was working very nicely, Tandaris did discover that its secondary systems were in need of minor adjustments. For example, parts of its secondary cooling system had simply worn out and were in need of replacement. The urgency surrounding the matter was not high, as the secondary cooling system was rarely put under much strain and even then its components would withstand such strain for sufficient amounts of time. Tandaris made sure to compensate for the malfunctioning hardware, however, and make a note in the log to get the system repaired or replaced at their next maintenance layover—whenever that would be. Having finished with the cloak, Tandaris once more doubted his ability to remain focussed on a single task. As a child, he had constantly demonstrated his transient tendency to walk away from something that became uninteresting. After joining with Admiran, the trait had become less pronounced, but on some days it was clearly evident. As Tandaris thought about this, he went to work on the lateral sensor array. Doubt crept into his mind like the first drops of dew on a crisp spring morning. It crystallised, allowing his thoughts to be refracted through the prisms of doubt and fractured into thousands of mental shards that turned on their progenitor and pierced him. Nevertheless, Tandaris decided that so far, life was going pretty well. He was out of the Academy, he was on a fine ship with a fine crew, and no one had tried to kill him. Yet.

“Flashpoint” Stardate 0506.23 Lieutenant Arthur Dent -------------------------------------------------------------- Unfortunately, it seemed that things were not going to get better as Dent hoped. In fact, the situation was decidedly not improving to the point that Dent felt a dissatisfying sense of stupefaction creeping up into his gut and lodging itself firmly in his belly. The harsh lights of the consoles around the Control Tower, coupled with its intermittent beeping harmonic sounds, were enough to intensify the stupefaction until he was downright delirious. Two strange things had occurred quite recently which Dent found, well, somewhat unusual in his experience. Firstly, Dominion ships had arrived at the edge of the system but held their position there. They did not respond to hails, which left Dent perplexed. After the end of the war, the Dominion and Federation relationship was left in its redefined state, with the Dominion’s bid for the Alpha Quadrant stopped dead in its tracks after their loss of Cardassia. Dent wondered why Dominion ships would bother showing up now. It certainly could not be a coincidence—Dent may have been dense, but even he could see a connection between the events on Cardassia and the arrival of Dominion vessels, and there was more than met the eye. The second concern that preyed upon Dent’s feeble mind was over the orders given to the Starfleet fleet. They had been ordered to apprehend Prime Minister G’Serk . . . and lethal force was authorized. The situation, which had started out from bad, quickly crossed into the territory of worst but then detoured into definitively unpleasant. Information was Dent’s drug, his addiction, and his bane. Sitting at his station in the Control Tower, he had access to some of the most advanced technology for gathering information. News service reports, sensor scans, outpost reports—all of that information at his fingertips, waiting to be collected and collated. It was unnerving sometimes, to think about how much they relied upon such information. Right now, Dent was fed up with information, he had had enough of it. Too much inundated his mind: Starfleet, Cardassia, Dominion, elections, Centrist Party, Aegis, the Rixians . . . he felt the pressure building like a drumbeat in his skull, and wanted to find some way to release it. Aegis was at the flashpoint of a set of events that was starting to shape the future of Cardassia and the Cardassian sector. Burning balls of scorching plasma decorated the velvet sky, pinpricks upon pinpricks of light. The stars revolved around Aegis and sat in judgement. The trials, they said, were not yet over. The trials, they said, had yet to begin in earnest. The stars waited.

I'm not old enought to remember the previous incarnations of Doctor Who, and haven't been able to find them and watch them. However, I've been avidly watching the latest series and I really like it. It has lots of humour but retains a darker aspect to the series, I hope it continues to surprise me. :P

“Mirrored Delusions” Lt. (jg) Dave Grey June 18, 2155 ------------------------------------------------ “There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. “There is another which states that this has already happened.” -- Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe Just when you think life cannot get any weirder, you find out you’ve switched universes. Once Grey’s body started to feel significantly better, he had the situation explained to him in greater detail. Apparently they had all been transferred to this mirror universe, to which the Tholians referred by the designation “Dimension 13,” by the Tholians in an effort to retrieve a starship from their universe’s future. Suffice it to say, it took several passes before Grey’s mind finally grasped the complex linguistic nuances required to comprehend their predicament. He could not help but think about his sister as her voice echoed in his mind. Where was she in this universe? Was she alive and safe, or doomed to die like his Harriet? The Harriet in his mind had been far from kind, possessing that same steel will of his sister but with none of the gentle reassurance to which he was accustomed. Death, she had promulgated. I always was the stronger, she had made judgement. Such thoughts were replaced by Grey’s itinerant mind moving on to the next subject at hand. As he looked around this Challenger’s sickbay, his gaze was drawn to a monitor on one wall. Grey walked over and stared at the information on the screen. At the bottom of the screen in bright red capital letters, the words “Terran-immune strain confirmed.” Terran-immune strain? Terran-immune strain of what? He read over the screen more carefully and his eyes widened. Twelve dooming letters near the top right corner elicited a gasp from his mouth. Tovanengitis. They had created a strain of tovanengitis to which humans were immune—apparently for deployment as an atmospheric bioweapon. Regardless of its usage, the very existence of such a strain made Grey’s heart pound. If they had the key to the strain, then they must have a cure—a cure to the disease, a way to cure his sister! Grey’s eyes were lost in the rotating image of the deoxyribonucleic acid model that represented hope.

Occasionally a few friends gather and we play Tunnels and Trolls but we haven't gotten around to it in a while. ;)

“And the World Ceased to Be” June 9, 2155 Lt.jg Dave Grey ------------------------------------- Well, this was . . . weird. It was almost as if one sees one’s reflection in a glass, only that reflection can move on its own. And as it moves . . . the glass parts and one is drawn into the image, flipped and mirrored until one is trapped within the glass and one’s counterpart is free in the beyond. Grey had been arranging samples of preanimate biomatter for several experiments. The nonexistent science lab was not particularly busy, and he was pleased by this change of pace. It gave him time to think about how things were unfolding in his life and examine his options. The constant background noise of the science lab symphony orchestra drowned out the worries and doubts that floated upon eddies of his mind, occasionally courting the more logical aspects of his quirky personality. After placing the sample into a container, Grey felt a chill run down the length of his spine, followed by another and another. He frowned, wondering if there was something wrong with the environmental controls on the deck, but did not otherwise notice a change in temperature. Then, suddenly the world ceased to be. Awareness returned timeless moment removed from the last, bringing with it several new and unexpected sensations. Grey awoke to find himself supine on the floor, and several questions sprang to mind, including: “Where am I?” “Who am I?” “Why is there something heavy on me?” The answers were, respectively: “engineering,” “Dave Grey,” and “because Doctor McCellan is lying atop me.” Naturally, these answers (especially the last one) made the situation awkward. Grey tried to get up, but was interrupted by a piercing pain that ran down his spine and spread throughout his body. His head swam with the pain, and his vision became blurred and distorted. The pain intensified, a livid fire amplified by Grey’s increasing awareness of his situation. In the background, he thought he heard voices say something about “radiation” but could not make out much more. The ground churned dizzily, threatening to swallow Grey whole and perhaps spit him out again. A light mist clouded his mind, which foundered in the following gale. All around him, the sounds of chaos became an unbearable blanket of white noise that prevented rationality from gaining any further footholds on his lost soul. Grey drifted . . . . . . and the world ceased to be.