MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Peter T.
Date: 24 Apr 00 - 09:43 AM

[before leaving this part I want to be on record for laughing myself sick over "shannon doherty"!yours, Peter T.]

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Amos
Date: 23 Apr 00 - 11:12 PM


 

Part 2 ends here.  Part 3 begins over here.

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Caitrin
Date: 23 Apr 00 - 06:23 PM

Log, stardate 3.14159-
I fear I was wrong about the Green Man. I've been watching him for several days now. I had suspected him of being the Songstealer at first, but it seems I may have been wrong. Mandy's been seen with him several times, and she would never have dealings with one of Them. It seems more likely that he's just interested in old songs. He probably doesn't know the worth of what he does by bringing them to mind again. But I've sensed Their presence! If Boukay is no Songstealer...who is?

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: MMario
Date: 23 Apr 00 - 05:24 PM

Oh shannon doherty, I lost my daughter!
Away, Disney, Away!
Oh Shannon doherty, I lost my daughter
Away, disney Away!
Cross is Micheal Eisner

On every screen of every vid-terminal on the entire MT Enterprise the following message begins to scroll "The King will come tomorrow. Prepare for the King"

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: wysiwyg
Date: 23 Apr 00 - 05:16 PM

The signal reaches where it must reach, and is bounced far away to another point--

Attenuated yet clear enough to be received--

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: wysiwyg
Date: 23 Apr 00 - 05:11 PM

Spinning on one toe atop a world not on any starmap, arms outflung with and in all of the love in the universe, a woman slows in perfect balance, coming to rest...

Still on one toe, she gathers her love into one unerringly pointed finger, she now the world's finial flag-- see where she points you cannot, for she is seen only by God.

Yet point she does, and see He does...

And far below, a whisper reaches where she points--

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Amos
Date: 23 Apr 00 - 02:32 PM

Among the dark hurtling masses of the Crab Bottom asteroid belt there is little light. The stone giants, formed from unknown explosions and endless wanderings, are smooth, pocked from unknown collisions, worn by the infinite winds of space. Now, they form a wide shield protecting the quiet and remote corners of the region from invasion, trade, discovery, and the oppression of the commercial inter-sytem megacorporations, one Market Under Disney, hollow be their name, as the old song has it.

Among the endless lumpy shadows of this fast moving minefield, one small light suddenly becomes apparent. It is a smoother form, not pocked and grained with millenia of wear but polished, with grains of a fine tight burlwood, following its gentle swallow-like contours. It is the scout vessel of the small Ternian scout force, a lovely small four-man thing, crafted entirely from local hardwoods and protected by a thin transparent shiellding made from local minerals, that is tough enough to stand any impact. Unlike the vessels of the large commercial fleets, its drive is not a DIsney-Ford FLT installation with its mountainous metallic chambers and farings. The Tern people approached the same technological problems from a different direction, more fitting a planet short on metals, long on time, and uncontaminated by the thought processes of the large corporations. It was riven instead by a series of small Ternian crystals installed in a ring of dark mineral matrix around the interior of the stern, which generated carefully tuned frquencies when activated from the control deck forward. The effect of these oscillations was relative spatial translation rather than the forceful linear motion of the ancient Terran rocket system. The technology alone, had it been somehow brought to the markets of known space, would have caused a revolution if it had not been crushed instantly by the alert lords of Ford-Disney.

Alone in the vessel, the agent known as Cornucopia frowned with concern over the message he had just heard. He tapped a series of small polished wood buttons on the control arms of his comfortable leather recliner and activated a communicator which used a similar technique to the drive, by inducing vibrations in a perfectly matched crystal in the Ternian Lomaxion Centre. It was another piece of local engineering genius that discovered the principle -- match the crystals perfectly, to the nanometer, and they will resonate together no matter how far their spatial distance apart.

He had argued for a direct communication link to the Elder's Council, but had been overruled on the grounds of tighter security. He noticed it was time for renewal, and he moved a few delicately carved control arms to the appropriate slots. On the outside of the vessel, a pod drew back, unfolding a shimmering fabric which extended for hundreds of square yards on a complex frame of geodesic lines, growing larger and larger as the tightly folded arms swang out. Praise Bucky, he thought, all systems are staying green and no sign of hostile approaches in any dimension. May it stay that way!

The agent known as Cornucopia settled in his seat while the huge fabric-laden frame outside the vessel gathered ionic dipolar particles in its peculiar mesh. He had time, as all Ternians did, lots of time...

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Amos
Date: 23 Apr 00 - 01:58 PM

Grooan, Mbo -- aren't you a little young to be writing shaggy dog stories?

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Mbo
Date: 23 Apr 00 - 01:46 PM

The Lieutenant, now on his 5th listen to ELO's "TIME" album that day, he began to reminisce about the past.....a year or so ago, the ship he was serving on as an ensign in the deflector dish relay room--The Whale they got themselves into a confrontation with a Watashi invasion force. The Whale was pulling ambassador duty for the Kownti people, when the Watashi decided that their long-standing disagreement over who owned the rights to the dark matter fields around their sun, the star Rozimican. The captain of The Whale tried to resolve it, but the Watashi fleet were too much for them. They had to get out fast to avoid breaking the Prime Directive. Unfortunetly, the only way the Watashi saw to end the disagreement was to destroy their sun with massed mult-phasic cannons, so no one could own the dark matter resources. Yes, Lt.Mbo remembered sadly, that was the day when they shot the star of the Kownti down....

--Lt.Mbo

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Peter T.
Date: 23 Apr 00 - 12:55 PM

Boukay says:" Come in." It is the Admiral.
"Boukay, we need to talk about what we are supposed to be doing with the Pirates again."
Boukay jumps up.

"Admiral, I am concerned about Mandy. She was to have met me here an hour ago. Could you institute some sort of search for her?" The Admiral smiles and says, "Oh, I think she will be here shortly. She is sweet on one of our ice-giants. Not to worry. But just to be on the safe side...Back in a moment." He leaves, the door swooshes shut.

Boukay sits back down, frightened again. He had hoped, well, what could he hope now... He opens his fieldbook to where he left off, flips ahead a few pages, and begins to read again.

"2585:21:3
She says to me, "Try it, it'll be easy after a few seconds." I get on the seat, awkwardly, and lift my legs, and fall over. I get back on, and ride around in a diminishing circle, fall over. "What do you call this thing?" I say from the ground. She is laughing out loud, for the first time ever since we have been together. I get up, and although I think I am getting the hang of it, I deliberately shift my balance, just to fall over awkwardly, just to get her to laugh. I do. She does. "It's a bicycle," she says finally, choking out the words through her laughter. "Couldn't they have made it with a few more wheels," I call out, riding wobbly in a wider circle. She watches me, smiling, then falls serious again, rubbing her hand unconsciously as she does against the scar down her cheek.

We ride silently down the long road by the sea. No one follows us: that is one reason for going this route: it is so open. There are white islands in the distance, and high hills behind us, with iridescent sheen glinting off rocks like mica schist. We pass ruined towers and circles of what look like druid stones. We are always quiet together. She says that one reason she likes me is that I am the first man she has ever been with who is quiet, not because he is hiding anything, but because he is just quiet. I remind her than I am after all half-plant. Oh, she says, that explains it.

We certainly make a strange pair: a green man and a Cybanian escapee. After what happened on Polgar, she keeps herself to herself. But at least she has begun singing again, not Earth songs of course, but strange wild songs in her bitterhoney voice she says come from Taurusland where she was born. She will not say any more. There was only that horrifying moment later after Polgar on Holy Demershinnia when we realized that the Songdealers had wiped the minds of the remnant churchfolk, and let them live, songless, rather than kill them. She said that they had become more sophisticated, that they knew there was a problem with their previous tactics, that whoever they were they would not stop now until they had found Taurusland itself. I said, where is Taurusland? But she said no more. I think she trusts me: what she no longer trusts is the universe itself around her -- she thinks everything is now listening with evil intent. Perhaps she is right.

Tonight we sleep under a fine oaklike cluster of trees by an ancient aristocratic mansion, long since abandoned. I do not understand what these alien trees say, but they rumble deep and old, saying things just out of reach, but comforting nevertheless. She lies under one, and I lie under the next one nearby, and just before I go to sleep, she waves at me from under the shadow of her tree, smiling, like someone waving from one dark building to someone opposite, in another. I dream, again, inevitably, of that last night in Polgar, and with all my strength I wrench myself awake. I look over, and she is there, sleeping quietly. Everything is quiet, the trees hushed. I turn over, and sleep, and do not dream again.

2585: 22 - Even before we cycle into the village, even before we come over the hill, we can hear the pipes. It is this we have come for -- the secret gathering of the tribes on Margarnagarr. "

Suddenly Boukey is seized with the voice of someone, someone with a ancient voice, a woman's, like one of the trees on Margarnagarr, but also mysteriously like Mandy's, calling upon him for desperate help, directing him to the Hydroponics Section aft. He rapidly puts the book away in his jacket, and rushes out into the corridor, following the voice.

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Amos
Date: 22 Apr 00 - 09:07 PM

Cracking up, Spaceman Leej!!! You are soooo funny!

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Lonesome EJ
Date: 22 Apr 00 - 06:54 PM

"Captain Trid, Sir....AHEM..." Cartoosh approached Billy carefully. The Trid had a lingerie model perched on each knee, one holding a goblet of Tralfamadorian Beet Wine to his lips, while the other fed him Marmite spread on Toasted Slug-Crackers."Yes, Cartoosh...this had better be good." The cyber-spider scuttled up sideways, as he was wont to do when intruding on the Trid's menage meals."It seems that the Enterprise is ...aware of us." The Arachnoid immediately tensed to dodge either or both lingerie models, if Billy decided to toss them at him. "Damned Googlians," he said, with remarkable restraint." Cloaking is a waste of time any more. Every Mudcat Fleetship has at least one aboard." He crunched down on another slug-cracker."Mmmmm....did they alter course?" Cartoosh re-checked the screen."No, still bearing for the Crab Nebula." Billy dropped the models off of his lap."Let me see," he said.

Cartoosh spun a knob, and the skeletal rendering of the Enterprise in flight fleshed out in high-definition three dimensionality, moving in apparent slow-motion acoss the starfield."Still at half-warp," said the Trid," certainly are taking their time."

Just then, an illuminated port opened in the side of the Enterprise, and a projectile was launched toward them. " Crap!" shouted the Trid, "they're firing at us!" Cartoosh tapped an instruction into the keyboard and a mechanical voice intoned "Evasion auto-maneuver engaged". The pirate crew braced for impact, but only a faint thud was heard."Damage Report!" yelled the Trid. The mechanical vouce replied "Foreign object of unknown origin lodged in port steering aeliron". The Trid snapped at Cartoosh "go see what it is!"

Several minutes later, the spider had returned from the exterior of the craft, dragging something heavy in a sack."Well?" said the Trid. Cartoosh's mandible wagged in a self-deprecating grin. "They seem to have achieved a direct hit on us with..." and he opened the sack "...their dead Captain!"

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Mbo
Date: 22 Apr 00 - 06:00 PM

Sitting in a reverie as he was wont to do, Lieutenant Mbo, remembered, for some strange reason, his days as a Pirate. In fact, he still WAS a Pirate...shouting "ARRRR!" whenever he got the chance, spreading Pirate propaganda wherever he went, and even going so far as to to decorate his PTU (Personal Transportation Unit) with secret Pirate symbols. The old battle cry range once again in his head:
Moving cross the ocean with the flag of death a'flying
The demon butcher pointing out the message on the tide
And the demon light a'sailing at his side...
Lt.Mbo suddenly had the urge to go wear something purple......AAAARRR!

--Mbo

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Amos
Date: 22 Apr 00 - 05:38 PM

The Terran stood alone by the view windows, watching a simulation of real space go by, knowing full well it was not real light, since they were in FLT drive status, but appreciating the approximation as the display of starts he would have seen at any moment had they dropped into real-space was continuously refreshed in a relistic way on the windows at the forward end of the ship's saloon.

He frowned, noticing a familiar pattern in the dots of lights representing the distant stars swooping by; he took a small laser-gauge out of his jacket and peered through it, measuring angles. He looked around -- this end of the saloon was empty. He tapped in that same musical rhythm on the shiny golden pin on his tunic, bent his head and spoke quietly into it.

"Cornucopia, Cornucopia. Enterprise bearing directly Crab Bottom. Local situation stable. Rumour of pirates in vicinity. Dogsbody out."

He wandered aft into the more populated sections of the saloon, and noticed Ol' Spaw, once feared throughout known space as the Devil Dog of the Spaceways, limping over to a table looking vaguely irritable. He haled him and offered to buy him a drink. Maybe he could cast some light on the matter of pirates...he was practically a pirate himself!

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: JenEllen
Date: 22 Apr 00 - 02:32 PM

Mandy recieved the Green Man's invitation, and she did what she always did when faced with such indecision. She called her Grandmother.
"So what do you think I should do, Mere?"
The hologramatic image of the older woman sputtered and finally spoke.
"I have heard of these song catchers. If this Green Man truly is one, then his work is none but good. But you must be wary of those that come behind, m'love. Generations ago, Disney acquired the planet Satiria, and made slaves of the resident Frebergs living there. Disney forced them into writing commercial jingles and teleporter music. Some of the Frebergs went a touch soft in the head, began to adjust to their imprisionment, and even like the work they did. This renegade band will destroy all evidence of the old songs, at whatever cost. By destroying the music of the Earth, the people lose their sense of self, and become nothing more than commercial amalgamation. The only thing left of any enjoyment, naturally, would be consuming all things trite, pap, and Disney. Do you remember the lullabye that your mother used to sing you?"
"Sure," says Mandy. She hums a little and begins
Disney stuff, you got the cutest little Disney stuff
Ain't no way I'll ever get enough, Disney stuff
My heart won't quit pumpin' until I've purchased somethin'...
Mandy pauses, as the full realization hits her. It was the same tune her grandmother used to sing to her, but the words were different.
"They will stop at nothing, child. Take care of yourself."
"I always do, Mere. But, Mere, what are the real words? Do you remember? Can you tell me?"
Her grandmother's image wavers a little bit, then it begins to sing
Baby face, I'm up in heaven
When I'm in your warm embrace
I didn't need a shove
'Cause I just fell in love
With your pretty baby face..."
Mandy said goodbye and shut off the transmitter. She went to the sink and put a cold washrag on her tear-stained eyes.

On her way out the door she grabbed her insulated mittens. She'd stop by the cantina and pick up a thermo-bottle of liquid nitrogen and drop it by Farkin's workstation. He'd been having a rough go of it lately. Then on to her appointment with the Green Man.

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Peter T.
Date: 22 Apr 00 - 02:08 PM

She was taking her time. Boukay opened his fieldbook again.

2584:05.7 - I don't know what to do. I sit in my room with my machine, listening to the other songs sung at the funeral, just to get Polgarrian cowboy accents down, I guess, and to work up some courage to hunt down what is going on. I do not want anyone else to die because of me, because of my curiosity about old earth songs. I hear the whipping of the wind over the grass, the solemn phrases of the preacher. Then the voices are raised in a sweet version of "Mike Eisner's Seen the Glory" -- you can hear the rhythm of the Earthling roots, even in these gypsy cowboys. Then I wind all the way back to the first recording of the cowboy singing. I am so depressed by it all: and frightened. I push the button, and he sings, so alive. I come to the end of the song, and am about to turn it off, when there is a high, modulating wail that intercepts the noise of my getting up and preparing to pack my equipment. I do not remember hearing it at the time. It is a funny sound. For a moment I think it is accidental, and then I have an inspiration: perhaps it is a Cybanian calloide -- the famous secret woman's slave tongue, pitched too high for the ears of the vicious Cybanian master race. I fiddle with the demod/translucer, rewind, and start the machine again. The wail becomes the voice of the woman with the roses crying urgently: "Green man, green man. The Songdealers [?] are in the shadows, dealing death. Escape, escape, escape, esc" --- and the tape ends. Song Dealers? Stealers? The tape is blurred here. Who are these killers? I stand up and set out to find where she ---"

There is a knock on the door. Boukay closes his fieldbook.

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Lonesome EJ
Date: 22 Apr 00 - 01:14 PM

Farkin lifted another huge shovel-full of Plutonium chips and slammed them into the fuel-port of the Enterprise's reactor. It was hot work, and the ice-man could feel the icicles forming on his chin and nose. His boots were quite full of slush now, and a large pool of water had formed within his work-space. He glanced over at the Foreman, a lazy Maltoonian who had his nose buried in a copy of Playcreature's Girls of the Known Universe. Farkin had been employed in the Enterprise Engine Room for 143 years, and knew everything there was to know about its operation. He had applied several times for the Foreman position, but his application was invariably overlooked. "Snowcones", as the Ice-Giants of the Third Moon of Jupiter were disparagingly called, were seldom considered management material.

Farkin glanced at his wristwatch. Five more hours of toil and melting until his shift was done. Someday, he thought, they'll realize that an ice-giant's mind is like a recording device: Everything Farkin had ever seen or heard was archived in his brain. From the depths of his mind, he summoned up one of the old songs that had been sung by the man who trained him at his job so many years ago, Dylan Woodrow. The man was at least 1/2 Terran, and he told Farkin that he owned a replication system that had been passed through his family since time immemorial. He called it a Fonogram, and it had taught him many of the ancient so-called Sacred Songs. Farkin began to sing in his low rumbling voice

"Mike Eisner's seen the Glory..."

and he stopped. That was the version taught him by the digital recordings in the Library of the Enterprise. Woodrow's had been different. Farkin began again

"Mine eyes have seen the Glory
Of the Coming of the Lord..."

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Peter T.
Date: 22 Apr 00 - 10:29 AM

Boukay waits for Mandy, who has agreed to meet him in his quarters. While he waits, he opens his fieldbook again.

2584:04:1 - I think I am close to a pocket of Earthling descendants: I suppose I would have come here anyway sometime, just to see the Polgarrian rodeo, but I never realized that the planet was so beautiful. We land at Salbach Port late at night. I walk out into the air, and am suddenly drunk. I have never known such an ecstasy. What is it from? In this high, sober, but drunken state, I am taken by an enterprising local to the only hotel, it seems. I fall asleep, and dream (note: see entry in Dreambook under today's date). At daybreak I am awake. I look out of my dirty hotel window, and as far as I can see there are waves of high flowers. The planet is almost completely ancient tallgrass prairie. I dress, shaking with happiness, and go out onto the battered streets of this cowboy town, and run towards the waving grass. I embrace it, roll around in it, breathe it, plant to plant to plant to plant. They say to me, here, songcatcher, catch this song, and it is the wind, and I catch it, and I let it go, and it catches me, and we wave over the sky.

2584:05: 2 There is something strange going on. The grass says. Quick note: young woman in tavern, with Cybanian slave slash down her cheek. Playing bar piano, usual "Mist over Mondargloom" and "Tie a Yellow Ribbon round Sirius-3" and in the turnaround plays something that vaguely sounds like "Pretty Saro".

2584:05:3 There is a Polgarrian cattle drive coming through. I have only brief moments to go to the prairie at dawning, not enough time to learn more. The prairie wind gusts fitfully, little queer catspaws of high grass counterpatterns. Late in the morning the skyhorses appear on the horizon, like bucking ghost riders, cowboys and cowgirls buzzing in high circles. Below them, first the sound, and then the sight of the vast swirling herd of Polgarrian cattle, and the hooting sounds, and the lasariats circling. There must be Earthlings here: everyone knows that Earthlings have a feel for this kind of work across the cosmos.

2584:05: 3/2 I am in luck. I am sitting in the tavern, and a bunch of dusty cowboys come in. One of them is pale green -- he turns out to be a scion of my Father's, Buddobud by name. We sit and talk -- he came to Polgar for the grass, he says, and stayed for the life. He introduces me to his pals. "What are you doing here?" he says. I say," I am doing a little anthropology. Songs mostly. Old earth songs. Anyone here know any?"
"Well sure," says one man, straight and tall like, well, like a cowboy. "Me and Pedro know all kinds. Pedro's out branding or whoring or something. " He smiles, and starts to sing:

"As I wandered out on the Streets of Laredo,
As I wandered out on Laredo one day,
I spied a young cowboy all wrapped in white linen,
Wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay."

About halfway through the song, the woman at the piano starts to play. Then somewhere in the last line, the music stops.
"Heard that one before?" he says to me.
"Did you change the last line?" I say. "The original has: "Wrapped in white Disney as cold as the clay""
He looks at me sheepishly. "Yeah, shit, I never did like that line. It never really worked for me. What would a white Disney be, anyway? I guess I just repeated the linen. ". Anyway, I don't guess I fiddled with many more. Want to hear: "O Bury Me Not On the Lone Disney?"". So he sang that. But I had that already.

2584:05: 4 The cowboy invites me to come to the chuckwagon that evening -- maybe there will be another singalong. I eagerly say yes. I get up from the table and as I am going out of the room to go back to my hotel, I catch a glimpse in the barrom mirror of the woman with the Cybanian slash across her cheek. She looks terrified, as if she has seen a ghost. A ghost rider. What can be going on?

2584:05:5

A terrible accident has occurred out on the cattle drive. It seems that two of the skyhorses collided during an attempt to turn a sudden stampede.

2584:05:6

It is a strange, beautiful, sight. We are on a low hill overlooking the town. Many of the townspeople, and all the riders on the drive have followed the two caskets on their journey. Some are in formal mourning, others cleaned up as best they can. Both cowboys seem to have been much loved. I know now that somehow I am responsible for their deaths. The cowboy who sang to me, and his comrade, Pedro. They are the ones who were killed. I have inadvertantly, for some reason, become a bringer of death. In the circle of people around the gravesites, I see the woman with the Cybanian slave slash. She is carrying a cluster of what look like roses, wild roses I guess. When the service is over, and we have sung "Nearer My Disney To Thee", the diggers are about to spade soil on the coffins, and she puts up her hand for a moment, and throws down the roses onto the coffin lids. Then she walks away to the sound of the spades, slowly, back through the whispering grass down the hillside to Salbach Port.

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Mbo
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 04:31 PM

Looking around to see if anyone is watching, Lt. Mbo removes the Eldorado sonic disc and slips in one he has produced from his engineering sensor relay toolbox...and he sings along..

There you see her
Sitting there across the way
She don't got a lot to say
But there's something about her
And you don't know why
But you're dying to try
You wanna kiss the girl

Yes you want her
Look at her, you know you do
Possible she wants you to
There is one way to ask her
It don't take a word
Not a single word
Go on and kiss the girl
Sha la la la la la, my oh my
Look like the boy too shy
Ain't gonna kiss the girl
Sha la la la la la, ain't that sad

Ain't it a shame, too bad
He gonna miss the girl
Now's your moment
Floating in a blue lagoon
Boy, you better do it soon
No time will be better
She don't say a word
And she won't say a word
Until you kiss the girl

Sha la la la la la, don't be scared
You got the mood prepared
Go on and kiss the girl
Sha la la la la la, don't stop now

Don't try to hide it
How you wanna kiss the girl
Sha la la la la la, float along
And listen to the song

The song say kiss the girl
Sha la la la la la, the music play
Do what the music say
You gotta kiss the girl

You've gotta kiss the girl
You wanna kiss the girl
You've gotta kiss the girl
Go on and kiss the girl!

Only he sings it like Jeff Lynne would sing it! Look out!

--Lt. Mbo

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: JenEllen
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 03:27 PM

Mandy was nearly knocked off of her feet by the stampeding Forgleflotts leaving the Tavern. Their gelatinous little bodies went wriggling down the hallway in doubletime. Behind them strode Captain Spaw, heading for the laundry, all the while looking like he needed a good crap. She made a mental note to place a basket of prunes in his stateroom.

"Par for the course today," she grumbled. "I don't think it could possibly get any stranger around here."

That was the trouble with people sleeping in your bed. The dreams the Terran left when he awoke had attached themselves to the Mandolan. Her sleep was fitful at best. Dreams of boats, and the ocean, that only served to make her homesick for her days on Mandola. She used to rest on the rock cliffs and watch the waves pound against them. Before her dreams last night, she had not seen a storm on the ocean in ages. Somehow the revelation set her on edge.

She reached the garden without further incident. The Terran's dreams had left a song in her head. She sang lightly to the peaches and fuggerfruit as she pruned the trees...
She drank Coors, She rode Harleys
And her name it was Bonny
She was the star in the bar in Bombay
He whistled and he sang till the Snarf Bells rang
Andy won the heart of a lady

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Barky
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 03:15 PM

An old earthling song came over the ships loudspeakers, sung by Captain Barky:
"Disneytime,
And the mermaids are easy
Flounder is jumpin',
And the seagulls are high..

Well your daddy's king,
and yo' mamma's good lookin',
So hush little mermaid,
Don't you cry."

"Ah that's a good song", sighed Captain Barky to Navigator La'Forge. "Now set your course to the star cluster # 156783 in the crab nebula."

~Captain Barky

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Mbo
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 01:32 PM

Something else bothered Lt.Mbo--there were either two "no"'s (at the end of the second chorus) and four "no "'s in the final chorus....there weren't any THREE "no"'s in it....

--Lt. Mbo (Captain Kirk and Arthur Dent and Boba Fett and Data, they don't envy me...)

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Peter T.
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 01:17 PM

Boukay wandered down into the engine room. He found Lieutenant Mbo pausing briefly in the mad pounding noise.

"LIEUTENANT!" he yelled, over the noise.

The Lieutenant turned off the Betelgeusian DragonBlast music, and all that was heard was the virtually silent hum of the engines.

"Sorry, Doctor. Can I help you?"

The Green Man smiled. "A few hours ago, while you were passing by my room, you were whistling a fragment of a tune that seemed somewhat familiar to me. Checking the ships records, I was surprised to read that you are remotely connected to some 7th generation Earthlings I studied on ElDorado-Minor before that planet was destroyed by a freak asteriod shower. I was wondering if you knew anything more of the song."

Lt. Mbo had hitherto thought that the Green Man was weird, and now he knew this for sure. Song?

"Well, Lieutenant," said Boukay, all I have is a fragment of the words." He opened his fieldbook. "It was sung to me by a fine old gentleman in an elegant dining room one night. The words he remembered -- and sang to the tune you were whistling -- were:

"And I can't Disney out of my head,
No I can't Disney out of my head,
Now my old world is happily dead,
'Cos I can't Disney out of my head, no no no."

Boukay looked at him quizzically.

Lt. Mbo frowned. It was sort of like the way he remembered it, but not quite. There was something not quite right about the third line. He would have to work on it.

"Sorry, Sir. Sounds fine to me. Are you interested in old songs?"

"Oh," said Boukay, "Just a hobby of mine. Thank you, Lieutenant."And he went away.

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: catspaw49
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 12:45 PM

Spaw awoke with a band of Forgleflotts chattering madly and pointing at him. Through a pair of eyes which were desperately trying to stay closed and away from the bright light produced by the radiant energy of the excited Forgleflotts, he perceived that he was on the floor in some kind of corner in the starship's tavern. Having spent a brief period of time on Berambulbo, home planet of the 'Flotts, he manged to translate enough to understand their excitement was due to outrage that he had evidently urinated on one of their number the night before. He slowly arose and now towered over them. Looking down he began to unzip and the little glowing 3 headed computer specialists scattered in all directions. He hated computers and all the techno-beings who loved them.

He had a tremendous headache owing to an overdose of Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters he'd downed last night. After wandering about the ship for a long time he had finally located the tavern and ordered up. The last time he'd been this far gone on Gargle Blasters had been a night long ago when he and an old friend, Billy the Trid, had destroyed the lounge at the Betelgeusian Teleport Station.

He and Billy had met at the Galactic Sacrolumbar Reformatory for Pain in the Ass Juveniles. They'd hit it off right away, but Billy had gone on to great fame throughout the universe as a space pirate and scoundrel extraordinaire, whereas Spaw had pissed away his life as a space bum and scrounger of some note. Their paths crossed over time and it was always interesting. It was at this moment that that Spaw noticed that strange feeling. Not foreboding, not excitement........nothing you could really put your finger on, but just a "feeling" of a certain inevitability, like one gets before a good crap. But this one he recognized as different. He knew that Billy was coming, was quite nearby in fact. He'd never known how this worked and he didn't particularly care. It was another in the myriad mysteries of the universe that others fretted over but troubled Spaw not in the least.

He picked up his bag, emptied out the possum poop, and went in search of the ship's laundry. Might as well look good for Billy's arrival. The guy was always surroudeded by beautiful creatures and he'd occasionally been the beneficiary of the overflow.

Spaw

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Peter T.
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 10:39 AM

Boukay sat in a corner of the Tavern, surrounded by the wildness and the noise. His mind was elsewhere, among the hills of Karolinnie, the fine greenblue planet of Arcturus. He opened his fieldbook:

2583:13:2 - I was told it was poor in Karolinnie, but was unprepared for the shacks and the vast slag heaps where the dilithium mines have ravaged the mountainsides. This is certainly the back end of the glorious Federation. It is terribly hot: already the stationmaster has complained that none of the crops will make it this year. I wait for the schoolteacher. While I wait I ask the stationmaster if he is from around these parts. He laughs his high Arcturan howl -- it turns out that he is from Calaman, which I should have known. To keep my hand in, I ask him if he knows any of the ancient Calaman borealis wave tunes, but he knows nothing but the usual spacepap. Finally, the schoolteacher appears, daubing her brow. She helps me with the bulky recording equipment, and we stow it in her old -- what was the Earth word? -- jalopy. She is surprisingly sizeable for someone who wrote such a spindly hand in her letter to the Guild: 'I have heard that there is an interest in retrieving some of the old Earth songs. While only Terran myself, I recently heard some old songs chanted in the playground of our one-room schoolhouse, here on Karolinnie. I believe these mountain folk are 6th or 7th Earthling. How they got here is anyone's guess. I believe these songs are quite beautiful, and would be sorry to see them disappear. yours sincerely, Matilda Grace."
We move out through the hot green hills along the blue dirt roads. 2583:13:3. I have had my first encounter with this remnant, and heard some of the old songs. Some slightly interesting variants, but nothing really new. The funniest moment was when we came to a mountain cabin, and apart from nearly losing the jalopy on a none too steady log bridge, we were the cause of a fight over an Earth song between an elderly farmer, and his wife. There were four of them in that tiny cabin, overlooking their patch of ground: the farmer, his even more ancient looking wife, who would not take no for an answer when we said that we would not stay for lunch, and a young, darklooking grandson (?), with a small baby. Where the wife of the grandson was, no one said.

Anyway, after a long chat back and forth about this and that (I must always remember to keep it slow), I brought up the subject of old Earth songs. Naturally enough they said they did not know any, but after a little wheedling, the old man said, "Weell, I guess there is one I can recollect." And he went into the familiar song:

"From Walt Disney you say you are leaving,
Do not hasten to bid us adieu,
Just remember that Walt will go with you,
As the one man who loves you so true."

There was a moment of silence, and then his wife quietly said, "You know, there was another version, I don't rightly recollect it all, my mother's I guess." And she suddenly sings:

"From this valley they say you are leaving,
Do not hasten to bid me adieu,
Just remember the Blue River Valley,
And the sweetheart who loved you so true."

She then starts crying for some reason. An eldery woman crying is a hard thing to see. Her husband just looks at her and laughs."Fool woman, that ain't no Earth song." And they start in to fighting.

He is obviously right. It can't be an Earth song without Disney appearing in it. I wonder where she got it? A Pleiades variant? We hurriedly bid them goodbye (Adieu perhaps, hahaha), still bickering, and head off again. As we turn the corner, I see the young dark man running off into the woods, without the baby.

2583:13:5. Matilda and I return from a trip deeper into the hills, which turned out to be futile. No one there was even 7th generation Earthling. Satellite dishes have arrived. Just before we take the crossroad to the schoolhouse I have this funny feeling."Matilda, would you mind us just taking a few minutes back up the Hollow road again. I want to talk to the "Red Rivers" again!" That had become our little joke.
The jalopy makes it up to the bridge, but can go no further. The bridge has, strangely, been destroyed. A flash flood? No, it is all dry as a bone. It is only a creek, so we jump over and walk towards the cabin.

The cabin is a charred ruin, and the space around the cabin burnt blue grass. We come closer, and then we see the bodies. And then we run."

Boukay closes his Fieldbook. The noise of the Tavern returns. He sighs. He is still not at the heart of the mystery. But he is confident that it will come. It is somewhere in the songs. He thinks: "I wonder where the Blue Valley is? Maybe that is the place to look. Maybe I will find it in the Crab Nebula."

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Mbo
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 10:30 AM

We loved to see your heart or hearts
With all it's icky slimy parts
Vetricles and coronaries
The color blood of boysenberries...
--Mbo

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Kelida
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 01:50 AM

We sometimes loved your cheatin' heart
Except when you beat us at cards
We'll miss the way you stacked the deck,
And we'll miss the way you cracked your neck. . .

Only 8 more hearts to go now. . .

Peace--Keli

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: JenEllen
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 01:46 AM

The funeral announcement came over Mandy's communicator when she reached the safety of her rooms in the garden. The Green Man would be at the funeral. How could she hide from him now?

2000hrs...she'd better be ready for anything. She put on a red sari with gold threads woven in. She cried just a little bit, it had been a gift from the captain upon his return from Bazouki. She wondered what would become of his family now? His children were barely 50,000 years old!

As a final touch, she tied on a necklace that Counselor A'Troi had given her. The small braided rope with a dark rosewood charm on it rested against her neck. The warmth of her skin released a light peppery citrus smell from the charm. How did Counselor know? Mandy smiled.

She sits brushing her hair, and singing for her memories of her captain
Please, don't talk about me when I'm gone
All though my life force ceases from now on
If you can't say anything real nice
May you be infested with Caposian lice
I'm departed, you go your way, I have died
Hey, the best of us do
Here's a great big kiss, from my three lips
Only the middle one is blue...

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: katlaughing
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 01:44 AM

(That's Lingerie Model No. 7!!) Stinkin' Typos!

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: katlaughing
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 01:41 AM

(Sorry, Keli, I was writing and missed you song! Good one, thanks!)

"Whaddya mean I hafta wear the pushup bra? I don' care what yer stinking Capt'n says, I ain't wearing no 500 year old bra and leg shields! Fervenussakes! And' I ain't no stinking warrior, neither! and, I don' care if I nevah see that 26 inch perversion agin, neitha! Ya got that? Go tell that ta yer Capt'n, Ha, sure he's a Captain and I am the Queen a'da Stinkin' Universe!" Lingerie Model No. & punctuated her words by throwing the flimsy clothing back at Cartoosh. Finally, she'd broken through the Borg-induced mind-meld with the other and gotten her own self back, albeit an adulterated version of her ancestors known as Bruchlinytes & N'Jursees. She supposed it was those damn genes kicking up again that made her crave more bagels and cream cheese, if the stupid bucket of bolts replicator would work. Billy the Trid was NOT known for keeping his ship in tiptop shape. She glared at her *sisters* and started to tap her long, red fingernails in boredom, frustration, humming a half forgotten lullaby her grandma used to sing...
Anise a payee shun
Anise a payee shun
Anise a pay shun
Is ringing me round
The posies, pockmarks full of nosies
Arsewipes, arsewipes,
We aren't in town...
She shook her head, grimacing ruefully, stupid, stinking song, doesn't even make in focking sense!

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Lonesome EJ
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 01:39 AM

Farkin the Ice Giant awoke and glanced at the thermostat in his cabin. It read 29 degrees Fahrenheit."Jesus Christ"he carped,"somebody open a goddam window in here! What'er we trying to do, grow frigging tomatoes!" He immediately jumped in the liquid nitrogen shower. Slowly, it began to work its magic, and when he emerged he felt firm again- solid and invigorated. He donned his Thermal Shield-suit and emerged from the cabin, stalking down the hallway like a moving tree. He liked to think of his actions as, if not agile and accurate, at least inevitable.

There was a great din of many languages in the cafeteria of the Enterprise as Farkin trundled into line and picked up a tray.The Red-hot Chambovian Gumbo sounded good, but he reconsidered. He knew it would go right through him. He eventually settled on fourteen Gerkel's Ice Pasties and two quarts of the Lustmelon Slushie, he found a wide railing by the window and stood there eating. Although several Googlians called him over to sit at their table, he had learned that attempting to sit only cause his legs to snap off. Besides, Googlians were usually so tripped out on Flabjian eels-blood that they spent most of their time either hallucinating or trying to talk each other down.

He glanced at his wrist-watch. He had forty five minutes before his shift shoveling Plutonium into the ship's reactor started. He had better get moving if he wanted to make it on time.

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Kelida
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 01:32 AM

Here's an ode to three of the captain's twelve hearts:

We loved you for your heart of gold
We liked the other ones, too, if truth be told.
We'll miss your laughter and your smile,
We'll miss the way you went the extra mile.

We loved your sweet heart, it tasted nice,
Especially now, steamed and served over rice.
We'll miss you now that you're dead and gone,
But we thought it might be nice to write you this song.

We even loved your heart of stone
Although its weight sometimes made you groan
We'll miss your insults, all good-natured fun,
And we'll never forget you talent for puns.

If anyone can think of 9 more hearts to love, that would be great, because I'm drawing a blank here.

Peace--Keli

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Amos
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 01:15 AM

Gray and tired, the Elder Statesman stood down on the shore, pausing in his walk back to the main part of the rambling, pleasant hardwood city. His lined and worried face was illuminated by the soft mauve light of the binary moons of Tern, a strange pair of masses which orbited each other while orbiting their planet. The mauve moons were softly lit, rounded and somehow soft looking, and gentle. For reasons no-one had been able to discover the first settlers there had named them as a single entitiy with the obscure but lyrical name Annieaaskones.

The old man stared past them into the dark depths of the asteroid belt and the dangerous radioactive clouds in the far regions of the galaxy which were all that protected his sturdy colony from detection and endless strife at the hands of the psychotic bands of strangelings who populated the distant spaceways of charted areas. Somewhere out there, his son, his only son and all that was left to him of a long-ago memory of happiness when the twins were born, was at risk. He ground his teeth, the ancient loss of the boy's sister, to a Cybanian slave-raiding party from off-planet, asserting its deep-seated sadness. He wondered for the millionth time what had become of her, why her psychic presence occasionally loomed in his awareness, and why it vanished when it did.

Present duty again called him, and he hunched his shoulders against a cool wind from the river delta and turned up the waterfront street heading toward the wider, more graceful spaces of the center of the town. Tall, ornate polished wood buildings, their facades swooping in gentle curves, their curved flanks supporting long polished towers of bright wood with even divisions of metallic light where the wide short windows were, towered over him on both sides, separated by greenery, small streams and crafted waterfalls. He followed a small footpath to the rear of one such building, and inserting a small precisely formed slate touchstone from his pocket, was admitted into a small polished rosewood compartment. Pressing a small lever, the entire chamber dropped rapidly with a hydraulic hiss to a deep subbasement level. Exiting the chamber, he turned into a side corridor and knocked in a precise musical rhythm on the heavy door; shortly, it opened, and he strode in to face a small group of anxious men and women, who looked at him respectfully in expectant silence.

"There is no further news from Cornucopia," he told them. "I fear the worst, but we have no concrete information."

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Kelida
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 01:12 AM

Funeral Music!

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Barky
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 01:07 AM

Suddenly, over everyone's pin communicators, came the voice of C.C. Barky. "I'm afraid I have sad news to relate. As everyone should know, today was the 10,015,274'th birthday of the captain. He passed away early this morning of a sudden hearts attack to all of his 12 hearts. Such a young guy, too. Sigh. We all must go sometime. This leaves ME in charge of the ship. But before we go into details of that, I proclaim a typical Uvarinalian funeral party, with lots of well aged brew, and meat, and all and all festivities. Will Geordie please put the engines to a halt, and put up the invisibility sheilds? Thank you. So the festivities will begin tonight at 20 hundred hours! Afterwards, we shall give him a typical burial in space. Back to your stations!"

~C.C. Barky

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: GUEST,Dave (the ancient mariner)
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 01:03 AM

On the medalion left aboard the Mudcat Enterprise the inscription is "I am as true and as constant as the north star of whom there is no other fellow in the firmanent" The tiny EPIRB (Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon) transmitter can be traced through time and space. With the knowledge he can trace the position of the Mudcat Enterprise; the Grace darling leaves the shuttle bay, and responds to a call for distress.

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: JenEllen
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 12:56 AM

Mandy woke with a start "The Green Man!" she yelped as she crawled off the pillows. Obviously Counsellor A'Troi's advice was as golden as her liquers. She shook out her mangled sari from a wadded nest on the floor, and gave the end to a philodendron to hold while she spun it around herself.
"Thanks Phil,(hic) you are a perinneal sweetheart." she said, tucking the stray end of the scarf into her waistband. She then made a mug of strong black Venusian tea, downed it, and gave a slight shiver as the tea hit her bloodstream. Afterwards, she began to fight her way out of her squeaky door.
"Damned warped (hic) bulkhead connector!" She squrmed out of the slight opening in the doorway, then gave the door a swift mule kick and it slammed shut.

She peeked through the door, and found the Green Man just where she had left him. Except for now he was rifling through some pages in a book on the table, and singing to himself.
'Parsely, Sage, Rosemary and TIME..
Time, time, see what's become of me
As I looked around for my possibilities
I was so hard to PLEASE
Please, please...Love me DO
You know the way to San Jose?
WHOA, whoa, WHOA, whoa, wuh-wuh-wuh-WHOA

So he WAS a song stealer? Then he had a bargaining chip with the pirates!
(hic) and the silence was broken
The Green Man spun towards the open door.
Mandy ran.

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: katlaughing
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 12:51 AM

Counsellor A'Troi shook her head and sighed. She'd done such a good job..it seemed noone needed to pour their heart out to her anymore. Oh sure, when they visited the Pleasure Temples in the holodeck things went just the way they programmed them, but who soothed their troubled brows, egos, and various body parts after they'd spent a few weeks of Romp and Rowdy on the Planet Formerly Known as Prints, now known galaxy-wide as Hedonia? Was she reduced to this? This archaic mixing of potions and dispensing of dollops for sleep inducement? Which reminded her, she really had to clean up the evidence. In her haste to get to the Tavern, she'd left out the Terran mortal and pestle and packet of verdant substances. She knew she'd have to harvest more lemon balm from her Secret Garden, but no one must know! Contra Band and Dance were strictly forbidden as Relpi-Herb was supposed to provide her with all materials. Humph! He did a lousy job, never had the scents right, lemon smelled ghastly like rue; mint like that vile black stuff the Throwbacks were always demanding...ah, well....if what she sensed was correct, perhaps she'd soon have her hands full of weaving to do, mending the tears of the fabric of individual souls as well as those of the Time Continuum...only Time would tell.

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Mbo
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 12:33 AM

Don't fret! Good one! Kickin' song! C'mon, all together now, raise yer tumblers high!

--Lieutenant Mbo

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Kelida
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 12:28 AM

oops. . . the HTML got confusing, but hopefully everyone can get the gist of that. To the tune of "The Bonny Ship the Diamond" minus 1 verse.

Peace--Keli

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Kelida
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 12:26 AM

The Lovely Ship the Mudcat

by Kelida (Bridget McKinney)

Spoken: Space, the final frontier, where no Mudcat has ventured before. . .until now.

Sung:

Oh the Mudcat is a ship, my friends, For the nebula she's bound
And the bay it is all covered, with musicians all around
Captain Trid, he gives the order, to shift into warp speed
To a planet where the natives, they don't have a mouth to feed.

Chorus--
So, let's gear up, my friends,
Let your voices sing out
As the lovely ship the Mudcat,
Goes to space to travel about.

Around the Mudcat Tavern, the musicians gather 'round
With their instruments close by them, and their voices lifting loud
Don't you fret, you'll get your turn, you won't get left alone,
After this, come one and all, and sing songs of your own.

Here's health to the Albert Hansell, likewise the katlaughing
Here's health to the wonderful Mbo, and the Mudcat, ship of fame;
We'll wear our space suits now, and our Mudcat tee-shirts, too,
When we return from space, my friends, we'll have many songs anew.

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Mbo
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 12:14 AM

You know them Limerick Lasses! Now if I could only get this isolinear chip to fit! ARG!

--Lieutenant Mbo

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: JenEllen
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 12:10 AM

The in-room communicator flashed on all of the bedside tables of the Enterprise:

*One Night Only! From the moons of LimerickII! KELIDA!!! In the Enterprise Tavern, for your listening pleasure*

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Lonesome EJ
Date: 21 Apr 00 - 12:03 AM

"Captain Trid!" Cartoosh called,"come quickly, sir. I have fixed the destination co-ordinates for the Mudcat Enterprise. You may want to see this before you rashly board them." Trid flung a Venusian Harpoon, which he had pulled out of his dirty red Bantana, at the octo-ped, who anticipated such behavior and avoided the lance in a casual manner that only further inflamed the space outlaw."Rashly board them!? Is there something wrong with that?! Boarding is no fun at all unless done rashly, you scuttling tin tarantula!" Nevertheless, the Trid was curious, and approached the screen. "You see!" said Cartoosh," they are headed for the Crab, more specifically for an obscure planet called Tern. You have heard of it?" Billy scratched his doorknob of a head and then his purple eyes suddenly illuminated, and he began to sing

"For every EarthlingTern Tern TernWe have a new planetTern Tern TernAnd it's a great place for snorkels and umbrellas"

"Exactly! It's the supposed last holdout of the Terrans." Billy was in the dark again."Why," he said " would they be headed to the Crab Bottom, the veritable Sphincter of the Cosmos, with the flagship of the entire Mudcat Fleet?" Cartoosh wagged his mandibles in the Arachnoid version of a grin."They have a very special guest aboard.The Green Man. Bosquet?" Now the Trid was back in the game."Blackmarket Bosquet, the Song Smuggler? Last I heard of him he was peddling Neptunian Gas Music at the Flagellian Funk Festival." Cartoosh was enjoying himself. He always liked it when he knew more than Billy, which was nearly all of the time." Not any more," said the spider."Rumor is he's on the trail of the real stuff. The Sacred Songbook..."

"You mean...Bob?" Cartoosh's mandibles increased in activity."Not...Woody?" Cartoosh began to gyrate in place as he performed an Arachnoid ritual joy-dance which could be interpreted as "now you're cooking!" Billy was hopping on one of his three legs as well "Blind Willie!?"

The Trid guzzled another gargleblaster to steady his nerves, and then said in a low voice "stay cloaked...and follow them."

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Kelida
Date: 20 Apr 00 - 11:15 PM

*Kelida finishes writing here song, which has somehow become a limerick*

There once was a tavern in space Where nobody was the same race There were tribbles within And a trid with a grin As phasers fired all 'bout the place.

*Oh, wait, there's maybe a whole song coming to mind. . .*

Peace--Bridget

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Amos
Date: 20 Apr 00 - 10:54 PM

[<.i> The Terran stepped away from the thread to post a query command to CosmiSQLGoogle, a sub-light network search engine, asking for lemon-balm hair scent, and some mint incense, no price too high, as long as it could be beamed in within fifteen minutes....]

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: JenEllen
Date: 20 Apr 00 - 10:32 PM

"Hello-hic-to YOU"
Mandy stumbled into her rooms after passing the handsome Terran in the hallway. The slight beginnings of the hangover she was about to get, as well as the invariable case of the hiccups that were to follow, lay draped over her like a shawl. Going to the tavern for information, oh man, she should have known better.

She gave a weak greeting to the fern, and collapsed onto the pile of pillows. The angel fluff was still warm, and her head-rest smelled of the Terran's hair. It was all she could do to stay awake and organize the things she had learned tonight. First of which being, never, NEVER, play quarters with the guys from Engineering again.

The first table she sat at contained the Gooligan contingency aboard the Enterprise. They were consuming gallon upon gallon of Eels blood, and looked in the mood to talk. They hardly noticed the slight figure sitting at their table, and they talked. They seemed worried about a space pirate named Trid, whose lingere models were as deadly as they were beautiful. And not to mention Trid's schleeber, the Enterprise would be in for a fight. The Gooligans were planning to hit the escape pods shortly after finishing the next pitcher.

The admiral sat alone, hands curled around a mug of steaming tea, even though the air in the tavern was stifling. His bloodshot eyes looked up as she neared the table.
"Hey, Mand." he bleated "Junior really appreciated those oranges you sent up. His cold is almost gone now."
"What brings you in here tonight?" asks Mandy while she pulls up a barstool. "It's getting awfully late."
"Well, telling you this in confidence of course.."
"Oh of course!" she sparks, while batting her double row of eyelashes, "That's why I'm here."
The Admiral orders her tea with amaretto, and begins to talk.

....So the Enterprise was headed for the Crab Nebula at the request of the song catcher. Maybe she should have left him at the mercy of the Daisies and Gladys? Only one could help her sort this maddening mess out. She glanced towards the ceiling to see Counselor A'Troi hovering at her table. Mandy climbs the stairs and perches on the railing. She tells the Counsellor everything she has learned so far, leaving out the teensy fact that Terrans smell vaguely like lemon balm, that was important to no one but her.

Counselor A'Troi gave her a shot of the mysterious liquid in her flask, and told her to go sleep on it. After downing the pale brew, it was almost too much to get down the stairs. One of the young engineers gave her a hand down, and steered her towards the bar. Any thought the young man had of getting her stewed and dancing on the bar like at the Fete d'Manoaux was quelled when she soundly trounced them at quarters, and left them asleep under the table sucking their thumbs.

This was the sad state she was in upon returning to her rooms. That and finding a note from Captain-in-Chief Barky that the medallion was a bit much. She agreed it was more than she could deal with, and vowed to turn it over to the proper authorities as soon as she was able to stand upright. Until then she would dream under a warm blanket that smelled of mint.

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: MMario
Date: 20 Apr 00 - 09:50 PM

*hahahahaha!* Amos that is GREAT!

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Amos
Date: 20 Apr 00 - 09:36 PM

There is a place beyond the Crab Nebula, an uncharted zone neglected for a thousand years by the tumultuous waves of inter-system history, hidden behind belts of lethal asteroids and regions thick with the dust of nuclear explosions, a part of space into which no ship has tried to penetrate since the original Diaspora from Terra's first Lunar Colony in the year just prior to the DisneyMicroWarner Rebellion first sowing the seeds of galactic corporate independence. There is no sign of mineral wealth there, and no large center of civilization to be sought, courted, or reckoned with in battle. So it is unnoticed in the scheme of things. The zone is generally marked off as the Crab Bottom sector on modern holocharts, a grayed out zone of no danger, help or profit.

There is one planet that can be found in Crab's Bottom, with the energy-spectrum bandwidth required for the operation of humanoid carbon-oxygen exchange organisms. It circles a large star known only by an ancient catalog number, NEZ0999899881. Neezy, as it is known to its gravitational captives, is about 1.023 solar standards in diameter, richer in deuterium and borium flares than is the corona of Terra's dimming sun, but comparable in the bands between infrared and ultraviolet. Her sole planet, a lopsided muddy mass with a single large equatorial ocean running 3/4s of the way around it, is slightly further from Neezy than Terra is from Sol, but having a slightly more carbon-rich atmosphere, maintains a temperature between viable extremes of -10 and +63 centigrade.

Rich in some ways, blessed with a verdant chlorophyllic ecosphere, relatively few predators of any scale, and an abundance of some rare mineral classes which would sell well on any other civilized planet, the planet, known only to its inhabitants, is called Terrnetterna, or Tern, by its residents, for reasons their wisest scholars can only imagine. The capitol center is a rambling collection of finely shaped wood-like structures, displaying a fineness of joinery, finish, forming skills and design genius known nowhere else in the Universe. They are arrayed in graceful curves along the shores of the equatorial ocean straddling what the locals consider to be their Zeroeth Meridian. A wide, fresh water river navigable for at least 100 klicks flows through the city -- if that is the name for such a place -- to the sea, and along the polished wooden quais and docks, gracious sailing craft opf strange design can be seen moving passengers and cargo, raising and lowering graceful wind-arms of strangely translucent fabric to catch the breezes as they depart for other Tern centers.

NEar the delta of this broad river, where the docks end and the walls are older, less well-kept, the buildings cruder and the passage ways darker, set a few hundred meters apart from any other building, is a beautiful but ramshackle building made of the same dark and lustrous wood as the docks and quais. It is an old building, once crafted with love and attention which shows yet through the grime of centuries, containing a large central room and a number of smaller outlying rooms. Stages enhance two sides, and above the far entrance a mezzanine extends into the room, chairs neatly arranged on it. THe entire room is lined with strangely crafted objects, instruments with bulbous bodies and animal-gut strings, flat round ones, graceful figure-eight shapes in stunning red-grained hand carved wood, small tubular ones, triangular string ones -- the walls are an array of every historical instrument known tot he race of Terran.

For such is the blood of these men and women, whose own lore tells them of a long-ago flight in a large stolen starship from Terra's own Low-Earth orbit, no more than three hundred desperate men and women who threw their lives and futures onto Fate's gambling table in a wrenching determination to stay free, and won -- this wet and muddy land, a planet with almost no metals, where, in consequence, some technologies died, while others bloomed.

Along the wall that supports one side of the mezzanine, on the ground level, can be seen a long, ornately carved bar, lit by small lanterns in lovely carved cases. Outside, the quiet whisper of the river in the moonlight is a calming sound. Over the main entrance of this ancient building is a sign, much revered for its antiquity by the elders, if little understood. Its carving has faded over the centuries, but can still be made out on close inspection:

"´|*|*)CA¯*** T/ \vERÚN

Inside, a broad and ancient carved door bearing the carved legend "Lomaxion Centre" opens into one of the side rooms, where a wide desk-like table is littered with vellum sheets, and fine large boxes holding thousands more strangely marked sheets stand in stacks along the walls; a young Yokel holds one of the ancient hardwood instruments, shaped after a feminine form of his species, and strums its strings and sings:

Blow, ye wind o' the mornin'
Ah, blow ye wind Ohio!
Clearasil the rum and drecks
Way, Annie, blow, blow!

He is interrupted by the sudden arrival of a tall broad-shouldered man in a rich finely-spun gray cloak, who steps suddenly through the door.
"What news from Cornucopia, boy!??"

The lad leaps to his feet, and salutes hastily with his free hand.

"Non, bon sir, since the beamed fragment I tole you of last watch!".

The Elder Statesman, for it is he, strokes his jaw thoughtfully.

"If that bungler has sent my only son into harm, I will flail him with greaser-vines until he cannot see at noon!" He strides out into the night, and the Yokel resumes his strumming, little suspecting that the crude library of songs and ballads that filled the drawers and chests around him would soon become the focus of forces beyond all his imagination.

Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern Enterprise Part 2
From: Caitrin
Date: 20 Apr 00 - 05:55 PM

"The admiral's going on about the "Great Threat to the Federation" again." Belladonna said. "He actually seems to thin that we actually buy that it exists."
"Too bad." Ensign Caitrin replied. But her mind seemed to be somewhere else. And indeed it was. There was a Songstealer on board. The Songstealers sucked the life from entire races...it was firmly accomplished on Old Terra, where no music and no life remained. Oh, yes, there were still people existing on Terra, but there was no life.
Belladonna continued talking. "And have you realized we're heading to the Crab Nebula? The admiral won't tell us, but I know that heading for certain. Isn't that weird?"
At the sound of the words "Crab Nebula," Caitrin looked up, startled. "The Crab Nebula? Are you certain?" she said.
"Oh, yeah." Belladonna replied. "Definitely."
"Excuse me, but I've got to go!" the ensign said, rushing from the table. This was worse than she had ever expected!