Note: Star Trek is owned by Paramount. Star Traks is owned by Alan Decker. I own Star Traks: Next Frontier. That’s about it for now. No, seriously. You can stop reading this now.

Star Traks: Next Frontier

“The Dating Game”

By Cory Parker

“Captain’s log, Stardate 53699.5. Commander LaCroix, along with Lt. Comm. Halvox and Lt. Benn, have departed the ship via the Mockingbird and are on their way to meet with the Scarn, a race of beings living inside Sector 66-F. Being as the Scarn are a peace-loving people, there shouldn’t be any problems.”

“Whoever approved this idea is an idiot,” said Halvox. The three women were chained against the wall of the prison cell located on Scarn.

“That would be the captain, Kerry,” responded LaCroix with a sigh.

“I know that. He’s an idiot.”

“Listen, I was just reviewing what the Scarn had said earlier, and it sounds a lot like something Cal Benn, my 6^th host, once did,” piped up Benn, as she sat on the floor. “Except without the threat of bodily harm, of course”

“Too bad Cal isn’t here now to advise us on our current situation.”

“Well, I can remember what she did in that instance, I am joined you know.”

“Only too well, because you never shut up about it.” LaCroix ran her fingers through her hair as best she could and tried to think.

“Listen, you two, I sure that by now, Halloway’s gotten worried since we haven’t checked in, and he’s probably on his way here right now.”

“Any word from LaCroix yet?” asked Halloway as he sat in his chair on the bridge of the USS Haymaker.

“Not yet, Captain,” reported Lt. Smith, who was filling in at Ops for the missing Halvox.

“They are an hour overdue,” said Gabriel, as he scratched his left wing absentmindedly. Halloway shrugged.

“I’m sure they’re fine. LaCroix is probably just busy with her makeup.”

“I really don’t think they’re on their way here. Remember what happened last week when Bannon kept forgetting to check in?” asked Halvox.

“He deserved what he got, poor forgetful bastard,” answered LaCroix as she reapplied her mascara.

“I didn’t even think that there were alien species out there that actually performed anal probes,” remarked Benn, brushing her blonde hair from out of her eyes.

“Well, we are explorers…” muttered LaCroix as she watched two Scarns appear outside their cell. She stood and got as close to the cell door as she possible could. “I’m Commander LaCroix of the Federation starship Haymaker. I demand that you release us immediately!” The taller of the two stepped forward and smiled.

“You’ll be released soon enough, Commander. The show starts in a half-hour.”

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I’m from the Federation, y’know? Biggest fleet in the Alpha…what show?” she asked, finally listening to what the tall Scarn had said.

“The show of shows,” piped in the shorter one. “The only show worth watching any more. ‘The Weakest Date’. It’s how I met my wife.”

“It’s a way to ensure that future generations of Scarn are of the strongest genetic stock. We start with 8 contestants, and by voting off the other players, the one who is left is allowed to mate,” explained the tall one.

“Oh, wonderful,” said Halvox sarcastically. “What happens to the losers?”

“They are executed,” said the tall one. LaCroix sat down and sighed.

“Well, this keeps getting better and better.”

“Still no word from them, Jane?” asked Halloway as he looked up from his crossword puzzle.

“Nope.”

“Hmm, they should have called in by now, LaCroix’s vanity notwithstanding. How long to Scarn at maximum warp?”

“About 12 minutes,” answered Bannon, who was actually paying attention for once.

“Thanks, Ensign. How’s your ass doing?”

“Better. Doc Clinton prescribed me an analgesic cream.”

“Glad to hear it. Well, let’s go see what the hell’s the matter with the ladies on Scarn. If we could be getting underway…” Halloway was interrupted by the chirping of his communicator.

“Monty to Halloway. Look, I realize that you’re still kinda mad about the mess with the holograms a little while ago, but I wouldn’t recommend going to super speed anytime in the near future.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, Crewman Jacobs was eating his lunch by the warp core while one of the plasma regulators was open, and he accidentally spilled some hot cocoa on the regulator, frying it. Warp 4 is all I can give you until I get it replaced.”

“Bannon, how long will we take to get there at Warp 4?”

“About an hour and a half, maybe less.”

“I’ll take that. Monty, get on repairs, and slap Jacobs for being such a dumbass,” added the captain, half-joking.

“Aye, sir. Monty out.” Before the comm channel closed, the sound of Monty slapping Crewman Jacobs could be distinctly heard among the bridge crew. Halloway winced and grimaced.

“I was only joking, Monty.”

“I can’t believe this…” muttered LaCroix as she, Halvox, Benn, and five Scarn women stood on an elaborate stage, awaiting the beginning of the broadcast. Strangely, the Scarn females didn’t look nervous. Come to think of it, neither did Halvox or Benn. LaCroix watched as an older female Scarn stepped on the stage. She was smaller than most of the Scarn she had seen before, and her bobbed red hair stood out against her long black dress and matching overcoat. She didn’t seem too happy to be there. ‘That makes two of us,’ thought LaCroix as theme music began to play and spotlights above them began to sweep across the set. The redhead Scarn stepped up to a raised platform, and looked into a camera that was zooming into her face.

“Hello, fellow Scarn. My name is Anna R’binson, and this is…the Weakest Date!” she finished quickly. Turning towards the contestants, she raised a card and began asking the most inane questions imaginable. “Contestant One, according to the Scarn saying, what is the quickest way to a male Scarn’s heart?” Contestant One, a young brunette, smiled and looked the host directly in the eye.

“Through his j’tran, Anna,” she replied.

“Wrong!” shouted Anna, moving to the next female, who happened to be Halvox. “Contestant Two, what was the name of the Scarn who conquered the continent of Katana in 111231?”

“I don’t really care,” replied Halvox.

“Wrong! Contestant Three, how many children can a female ith-ith have in a month?”

“2 and a half,” answered Three.

“Correct!” As the host moved on, LaCroix sighed deeply and wished that Halloway would hurry his ass up.

“ETA, Gabriel?” asked Halloway as he watched the stars streak by on the viewscreen.

“About 45 minutes.”

“Sir!” yelled Lt. Smith. “I’m picking up a transmission being broadcast from Scarn to its colony worlds. You might want to take a look at it.”

“I bet it’s more interesting than watching stars streak by. On screen, Lieutenant.” A short redheaded older Scarn female came on the screen.

“Who fell off the tree of knowledge? Whose intelligence has gone into remission? Who will survive and become the next available mate and who will become…the weakest date? Stay tuned.”

“Isn’t that LaCroix and Halvox and Benn right behind her?” asked Bannon.

“Sure as hell looks like it. What the hell is this? Some sort of game show?” asked Halloway.

‘They’ll die if you don’t get there soon,’ came a voice inside Halloway’s head.

‘Mennol! Will you please knock that sh*t off! I hate it when you do that!’ thought Halloway angrily.

‘Sorry. I was just trying to help. The Scarn are big into assuring that future generations will be stronger and better than previous, so they only allow the best males and females to mate. That’s what this show is about, choosing a mate.’

‘So, what happens to the losers?’

‘They die, to prevent substandard genetic material from entering the population.’

‘I thought you told me that the Scarn are a peace-loving people, Mennol.’

‘They are…except when it comes to mating. Then they get downright nasty. Did I forget to mention that?’

‘Must have slipped your mind,’ thought Halloway as he tapped his comm badge. “Halloway to Monty, I need to go faster.”

“I’m working on that, Cap. Crewman Jacobs and I got into a little scuffle after I slapped him, and after we both calmed down, we started to fix the regulator.”

“How long ago was this?”

“About 30 seconds ago. It was quite a scuffle.” Halloway shook his head.

“Just hurry up and fix the damn thing, we have some people to rescue, Halloway out.”

“Welcome back, fellow Scarn. There are only three contestants left, all offworlders. Who will the next one to drop the ball and become…the weakest date?” LaCroix, Benn, and Halvox all rolled their eyes collectively as the redheaded Scarn continued talking. Completely ignoring her, LaCroix leaned over to Benn.

“How much longer until this show is over?”

“Well, calculating the time for commercials, plus the airtime already spent, I estimate…a little while longer,” answered the Trill.

“Thirteen lifetimes of experiences, and that’s the best you can come up with?” scoffed Halvox.

“Hey, I’m just the damn pilot, okay? Ask Bannon if you want a scientific answer. If you can get him to answer at all, that is.”

“Well, he’s not here, now is he?” sneered Halvox, ready to have a coronary.

“Will you two knock it off!?!” yelled LaCroix, a bit too loudly, because the shout gained the redheaded Scarn’s attention.

“Are you three ready to vote off…the weakest date?” she said, staring at the three officers coldly. They shrugged and wrote down their votes. When all three had dropped their pens, the host turned to LaCroix. “Miss LaCrux…” she said, butchering Rachel’s last name.

“It’s LaCroix, you moron.”

“I am the one who dispenses the insults on this show, young lady. Who did you vote for?”

“Well, I started writing your name down, but then I figured you’d just get all pissy about it and start shouting out those inane quips of yours. So…I voted for Halvox. No offense, Kerry,” she said to the operations officer.

“None taken. I voted for you, too.”

“Oh gee, you shouldn’t have.”

“And who did you vote for, Miss Benn?” asked the host. Jenna smiled and revealed her answer.

“Me. I want off this dumb show.” The redheaded Scarn actually looked confused. “Plus, I figured that Halvox and LaCroix would vote against each other, so I just put the game in a three-way deadlock. There’s nothing in the rules that explains what to do in such an instance, and the only way new rules can be made is through a mandate by the Scarn provincial council.” The host was taken aback, along with LaCroix, Halvox, and the populace of the planet. Benn smiled and started drumming on her answer console. “So, ha ha ha ha ha,” she added.

“How the hell do you know the rules?” asked LaCroix.

“They were on the computer screen inside our cell, I thought it would be prudent if I took a look through them, to see if any loopholes existed.”

“Damn, Jenna. You should have been a lawyer,” whistled LaCroix softly.

“My 3^rd host, Tia Benn was one, actually.”

“Good to know.” Meanwhile, the redheaded Scarn was busy consulting with her producers, trying to figure out what to do. After all, they now had only five minutes remaining, and the popular crime drama ‘SYPD Blue’ was coming on next. The producers and the host started nodding collectively, and the redhead turned, holstering a blaster in her hand.

“Since we can’t wait for a response from the council, I’m invoking my right as host to declare this game null and void, and terminate the lot of you, starting with Miss LaCrux.”

“That’s LaCroix,” growled the commander.

“I don’t really care how your name is pronounced, bitch!” yelled the host.

“Oh, once you lose control, you get all ruffled up, huh?” yelled back LaCroix. Halvox was smiling, as she was actually enjoying the spirited exchange.

“Shut up! This is MY show!”

“Whatever,” dismissed LaCroix, raising a hand and turning away. The host grimaced and pulled the trigger…just as the three Starfleet officers were whisked away in a beam of light. The host screamed and raised her head to the sky.

“NO ONE INSULTS ME ON MY SHOW! NOOOO OOOONNE!” she screamed as her producers tackled her to the ground and tried to wrestle the blaster away from her.

“She doesn’t handle stress very well, does she?” asked Benn as she settled into the pilot’s chair with a reassuring sigh.

“Apparently not,” said Halloway as he smiled at LaCroix. “Glad to see you three survived.”

“Oh, well, you know how it goes. Away team meets aliens, aliens turn hostile, away team stalls while ship picks them up. It’s in the Starfleet handbook, page 343,” she said, flashing a brilliant smile and tossing her head to the side.

“Actually, it’s on page 422,” stated Gabriel.

“Really?” asked Bannon as he began to look it up. Gabriel rolled his eyes and continued working. As the young science officer continued to look in vain, the rest of the crew went about their business as the USS Haymaker sailed off into the expanse of Sector 66-F.

THE END