Episode 11: Well, Here's Another Nice Mess You've Gotten Me Into
“HELP!!!!”
The contents of Deck X continued their involuntary journey toward the hatch. Chair after chair, vase after vase, some couches, a foosball table…
“I CAN’T HOLD ON MUCH LONGER!”
“Don’t worry, Cecil!” Clerk replied. “You’re tethered to the hull! You’ll be fine! Just try to stay out of the way!”
“I’M DOING MY BESSSSST, SSSSSIR!”
“Wharf!” the Captain said, turning away from the screen. “How is the pressure now?”
“It’s no longer critical, sir, but we still have a long way to go before we’re in the clear. We’ve got to have the entire contents of that deck emptied. Chief Engineer excepted, of course.”
“How long will that take?”
“At the present rate, I’d say 20 minutes.”
“Is that long enough?”
“Barely, I… uh oh.”
“Uh oh?” Clerk shrieked. “What’s ‘uh oh’?”
“Look!”
Wharf pointed at the hatch, where the foosball table had gotten wedged in, plugging up the hole.
“Yeah, that’s bad,” said Clerk. “Cecil, can you get that out of the way?”
“I’LL TRY, CAPTAIN!”
Why, oh why, did I turn down that bonus shipment of Liquid Plumr? “Wharf, I’ve got an idea: could you–”
“Bridge to Captain.”
“Um, now’s not a good time, Lieutenant. Can I call you back later?”
“Well, we thought you needed to–”
“Yeah, we’ve got the whole ship-about-to-blow-up deal going on and it’s kind of an emergency and all…”
“Okay, sir, but the Admiral, he–”
“The Admiral? He’s here?”
“Yes, sir. He beamed aboard just before we left the starbase.”
Impeccable timing, as always. “Right, well, let me get back to this, then I’ll–”
“CAPTAIN! I’VE MOVED THE FOOSSSSSBALL TABLE! THE SSSSSTUFF ISSSSS MOVING AGAIN!”
“Stuff? What stuff is this?” a familiar voice said over the intercom. “And why aren’t we docked anymore?”
“Hi… uh… Admiral… um… how’s it… going?”
“James Clerk,” said Admiral Nezbomb in his typical tone of condescension. “We need to talk, don’t we?”
At least he didn’t call me Jimi. “Sure… um… how about in, say, 20 minutes or so?”
“Now now, Jimi…”
Rats. “I would, sir, but I’m really busy. This just isn’t a good time.”
Nezbomb sighed. “Fine… I’ll be up in my quarters. See me when you get half a chance.”
“Yes, sir. Clerk out.”
“You were saying, sir?” Wharf asked.
“Huh? Oh. Yeah… um…”
“CAPTAIN! SSSSSTUFF KEEPSSSSS GETTING CAUGHT IN THE HATCH!”
“Oh yeah! Wharf, beam a phaser in there and have him vaporize the larger pieces of furniture. That oughta speed up the flow.”
“Right away, sir,” said Wharf as he raced over to the nearest Security Booth.
“Cecil, Wharf’s gonna beam a phaser to you. Vaporize anything bigger than a potato. Got it?”
“YESSSSS SSSSSIR!”
Moments later, the phaser materialized in Cecil’s hand. He began firing away at the furniture…
…which set off the alarm.
“Phaser fired on deck. Phaser fired on deck. Phaser fired on deck.” the alarm repeated.
Admiral Nezbomb returned to the intercom. “Jimi, is there something going on down there I need to see?”
No, you absolutely do not need to see this. “Everything’s under control, Admiral. Go back to bed.”
“Jimi, you worry me. I think I’ll come on down there.”
Please don’t. Please don’t. “Seriously, sir. It’s all under control.”
“Are you sure, Jimi?”
“Yes sir, totally sure.”
“Alright. See you in the morning.”
“See you in the morning, sir.” Whew. The Captain was almost more relieved about that than about Cecil opening the hatch. Speaking of which…
“How’s it going in there now?”
“I’VE GOT ALL THE BIG SSSSSTUFF TAKEN CARE OF, SSSSSIR! IT’SSSSS FLOWING WELL NOW!”
“Good job, Cecil!”
“THANKSSSSS CAPTAIN!”
Just then, Wharf returned. “Captain, you look like you’re about to bust a vein in your forehead. What’s wrong?”
“Nezbomb threatened to come down here when he heard the alarm. I barely managed to talk him out of it.”
“Sorry, sir. I should have turned that off before I beamed the phaser in.”
“Don’t worry about it. Anyways, Cecil’s gotten everything taken care of. Looks like it’s emptying out at a pretty good clip now. How much time do we have?”
“Since the pressure’s decreasing, we’ve actually gained a minute or two. Judging by what’s in there now, I think we’re in good shape. We could probably even beam Cecil out of there at this point; I don’t think we’ll need him in there anymore.”
“Sounds good. Is the Cleaning Room ready?”
“Ready and standing by, sir.”
“Alright. Beam him on over.” Clerk turned on the intercom. “Clerk to Cleaning Room.”
“Cleaning Room here, sir.”
“Prepare to receive one extremely dirty Gorn.”
“Aye, sir. Sanitizer guns locked and loaded.”
“Transporter room: energize.”
“Aye, sir.”
Clerk breathed yet another sigh of relief as Cecil vanished from Deck X.
“Wharf, keep an eye on everything and keep me posted. I’m heading to the Cleaning Room.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll… stay here,” interjected Dr. Flüshaht.
Clerk wasn’t going to fight that battle. “Okay, Doctor. See you at the debriefing meeting when this is all over.”
On his way to the Cleaning Room, Clerk could smell the alcohol from down the hall.
Poor guy. “How ya doing, Cecil?”
Clerk had never seen a nervous, shaking Gorn before, and really wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“THOSSSSSE GERMSSSSS… THOSSSSSE GERMSSSSS…“
“You fought bravely, son. I’ll put in a commendation for you right away. You earned it.”
Cecil was still too out of it to really process what the Captain had said.
“Sir, we’ve already vaporized the spacesuit, and cleaned every particle we could find.”
“Good work, Ensign. Don’t forget to take Cecil over to Sick Bay to make sure he’s okay.”
“Yes sir.”
Meanwhile, Captain Clerk had an even bigger issue to deal with: the Fleet’s most hard-nosed admiral was on board… in Inspection Mode.