Cusp Trek IV: Le Voyeur Homo

Continued from Cusp Trek III: The Search For Sanity...



 "How do you feel?" The computer intoned, growing ever more shrill. "How do you feel? How do you feel?"
 Cardboard Cut-out Spock just looked at it blankly until a scraping noise from behind distracted him. It was his mother, Cardboard Cut-out Amanda.
 "[silence]?" she asked her seemingly bewildered son.
 "[silence]" Spock replied.
 "[silence]" Amanda explained to her son.
 "[silence]"

Look. This does go on a bit, so let's just skip it. It's not even that important. Why would you even want to stick around not hearing what two cardboard cut-outs are not saying to each other due to their lack of vocal chords?
Spock's not even that important in this story anyway.
Oh, and if you're wondering why they're made of cardboard and not real bloggers, it's because Tim, split into his Virtuous and Vicarious halves, was playing both Kirk and Spock respectively in the first two Cusp Treks and now that he's become amalgamated he can't play both again.
Don't bother asking why someone else couldn't have played Spock and Amanda - The budget is already through the roof!

~ ~ ~

 "Right then" Tim said as we all stood next to our captured Dra'Kling Bus-class vessel Priscilla before boarding. "Are we all ready to go? Scotty?"
 "Aye, Sirrr" Eros confirmed, attempting to roll his R's in a Scottish accent.
 "Bones?"
 "Aye, Sir" I replied.
 "Sulu?"
 "Ye... Yes, Mr C- I mean, Aye, Sir" Beast flinched reflexively.
 "Uhura?"
 MJ was oblivious as she adjusted her bouffant, trying to cover up her Alien Queen crest with strands of hair.
 "Uhura?" Tim asked again
 MJ looked up at him, confusion slapped across her face. "Me?" she said, pointing at herself. Then the penny dropped. "Oh. Yessss. Me. Aye, Ssssir" she hissed at last.
 "Didn't you used to be Miss Scarlet? And drool less?" Before MJ could reply Tim shook his head as he noticed Chekov at the end of the line. "Never mind."
 "Chekov?" he questioned, leaning in for a close look. "CyberPete? Is that you under that Davy Jones wig?"
 "No, Sir. It's me: Princess!" Tim blushed as Princess curtsied at him suggestively. "'Petra said he had some business to attend to and asked if I could take his place. I said yes as I had nothing in particular on..." Tim's eyes widened at the obvious double entendre. "I had clothes on, of course!" Princess suddenly screamed, and batted Tim's shoulder then winked at him much to my disgust. "Ooh, you are awful!"
 "Oh gods" Tim muttered. "Right. Come on. Let's go before we have any more unannounced cast changes."

~ ~ ~

 "Shhhhit. What the Hell isss that beeping? Why won't it sssstop?" MJ flailed at the toggles and buttons on her communications switchboard desperately. "Why the Hell didn't I ressssearch thisss Ssstar Trek malarkey? And I musst try to stop hissssing, too." she continued to herself. "Oh, hang on..." she muttered as a comm channel came to life. "Uh... Tim, I mean Captain Kirk?"
 Tim turned in his seat, leaving the others to continue the discussion about the stacking ability of Lack tables from Ikea. "What is it, Uhura?"
 "I'm receiving a recorded message from Lieutenant Trillya of the starship Shepard."
 "Put it on speakers, then."
 After a couple of ham-fisted attempts, MJ eventually found the right control.
 "Do not approach planet Earth. The transmissions of an orbiting probe are causing critical damage to the Earth, almost totally ionizing the atmosphere. All power sources have failed and all Earth-orbiting starships are powerless. It's like gridlock in rush hour around here. The probe has vaporized soap opera sets and characters in Melbourne, Australia - We will not get any more episodes of Neighbours unless we can find a way to respond. Save your soap operas, save yourselves. Avoid the planet Earth at all costs. Farewell."
 "Shit."
 "Uhura, can you let us hear the probe's transmissions?"
 "Aye, Sir."
 A dreadful caterwauling erupted from the the Priscilla's speakers, distorting them horribly. Eventually, after much wincing and eye narrowing, MJ switched them off and we all took our fingers out of our ears.
 "[Silence]" commented Cardboard Cut-out Spock.
 "What was that, Spock?" Tim interpreted. "You think the signal signifies aliens of great intelligence that somehow, are unaware of the signal's destructive nature. You find it illogical that the probe's intention is hostile?"
 "Oh, so you think this is the Probe's way of saying 'Hi there' to the people of the Earth?" I snapped at Spock.
 "[Silence]" he responded.
 "Spock says: 'There are other forms of intelligence on Earth, Doctor. Only human arrogance would assume the message must be meant for man'."
 "Jeez" I sighed, exasperated.
 "Could the signal be meant for a lifeform other than man?" Tim asked.
 "Well, Lieutenant Trillya did say that the transmissions were aimed at Australia" MJ pointed out. 
 "That's crazy! Who would send a probe across the galaxy to talk to Australians?"
 "Not talk, Doctor. Listen" and Princess cocked his head to one side. "The transmissions sound almost like music - It could almost be called singing!" He turned to MJ and asked "Uhura, can you let us hear the Probe's transmissions accounting for regional accent, lung capacity and tightness of gold lamé hot pants?"
 "Yes, Prince- Sorry. Sorry. Yes, Chekov. On speakers."



 "Captain, I pressed some more buttons and twiddled a few knobs and discovered another transmission buried within the main signal. Translating now..." 
 A shrill, petulant voice erupted from the speakers: "Why have you stopped broadcasting Kylie's music? Where is she? And where's my champagne?" We all looked at one another in amazement as we recognised the voice. It was CyberPetra!
 "Well? Am I just supposed to hang around in orbit all day? And on my birthday, too. I demand immediate recompense for this disgraceful lack in standards. I want Kylie singing live for me. I'm not asking for the impossible - Just perfection. Surely you concede that I deserve it? Why can't you people buck your ideas up and resolve this fiasco?" 
 "Well. It seems we've no choice but to find Kylie and persuade her to give an impromptu concert for 'Petra" Tim sighed. "Anyone know where she lives?" 
 "Paris, I believe" I said. 
 "Right. Paris it is then. Everyone got your anti-jet lag pills? We'll be crossing several time zones on the way there."

~ ~ ~

 "Captain!" MJ blurted out not long after we arrived in Paris airspace. "I have live Kylie song! It's coming from directly ahead." She consulted her board again. "This is confusing - It's coming from the hospital."
 "Can you confirm?" 
 "Confirmed, Captain. Kylie is giving a small charity concert to aide the hospital." 
 "We have to get in there and get her to come to Australia with us. We'll need to look like doctors" Tim pondered. "There must be something in this giant dressing-up box of a vessel" he said holding up a particularly vile besequined spandex body suit between his thumb and forefinger and grimacing.
 We all rummaged through the cupboards, wardrobes and closets built into the Priscilla. 
 "Will these do, Cap'n?" Eros said triumphantly as he held aloft three white lab coats with only a minimal dusting of glitter.

~ ~ ~

 In the hospital we quickly located where Kylie was performing, but I stopped by an old lady obviously in pain. "What's the matter with you?" I said as Tim and Princess hurried on to get Kylie. 
 "Kidney... Dialysis" she moaned. 
 "Dialysis?!" I was aghast. "What is this, the Dark Ages?" I muttered as I reached into my bag and produced some pills, giving one to her. "Here. Swallow this. If there's any problem, call me." 
 As I strode down a corridor to find Tim and Princess, they found me.
 "Oof!" I said as the stretcher they were pushing bashed into my leg.
 "Run!" Princess cried, bashing me again with the stretcher. 
 "What's going on?" I said running alongside them. "Who's under there?" I pointed to the struggling mound on the stretcher covered in a sheet.
 "Kylie" Tim said. "She wouldn't come willingly so Princess stuffed her mouth full of tongue depressors to stop her protesting and we... Well, we kidnapped her."
 "Oh, gods..." I swore. 
 As we careered down the long corridors towards the exit, I spied some commotion around an old lady's bed - The same old lady I'd hurriedly treated on the way in for kidney failure. 
 "The doctor gave me a pill and I grew a new head! The doctor gave me a pill and I grew a new head!" she shrieked from both mouths.
 "Oh, drat! Wrong pill" I muttered as we ran past.

~ ~ ~

 Once back aboard the Priscilla, we returned to Australia but before we could land, 'Petra's infernal transmissions disrupted our ship's systems.
 "By all means move at a glacial pace. You know how much that thrills me." And he continued: "It's just baffling. Why is it so impossible to put together a decent run-through? You people have had hours and hours to prepare. It's just so confusing to me." 
 Unfortunately, we had no choice but to listen to his tirade as we crashed into Port Phillip Bay. Once we'd all dragged ourselves out of the Priscilla and had congregated on it's roof, we contemplated what to do next.
 "Quick" Tim urged. "Throw her in!"
 "What?!" Kylie was livid. "Rack off. I'm a pop star not a wha-"

* splash *

 "Why doesn't she sing?" Tim asked plaintively after having pushed the diminutive singer into the choppy sea.
 "I'm a doctor, not an expert in human biolo-" I began before realising that, in fact, I was supposed to be an expert in human biology. "Because she's drowning, you dolt!" I snapped at Tim as he struggled to keep her head under water.
 "Get 'er oot of thar!" said Eros in an almost convincing Scottish accent, then hauled her out of the cold waves.
 "Sing, godsdammit!" Tim clenched his fists in impotent rage. Eros had laid Kylie out on the hull and was looking expectantly at me. 
 "What?" I snapped again. 
 "Yurrrr th' doctorrr" he drawled, his accent not so good this time.
 "Ohforheavenssakes" I muttered rolling my eyes as I contemplated mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. "No" I declared as I straddled Kylie. "I haven't kissed a girl yet, and I'm sure as hell not going to start now." I began beating her chest with my right hand instead. 
 "Stop punching her in the boob!" MJ cried. 
 "Yeah, you do that in Star Trek VI to revive Chancellor Gorkon, remember?" Beast surprised everyone by backing up MJ.
 "What? Oh. Yes." Kylie stirred beneath me. "Are you all right, Miss Minogue?" 
 Glaring at me through narrowed eyes as she propped her self up on her elbows, Kylie answered "Just about. And get off me!" Once I'd disengaged from her, Kylie got to her feet and started rubbing her left boob. "Ooh, that really hurt, you quack!" 
 "Look, are you going to sing, or not?" Tim interjected. "CyberPetra will destroy the planet, if not." 
 "OK, OK. Here goes:"



 "Oh! You did it! Thank you" 'Petra gushed from orbit. "Now, just sing Celebration in honour of my birthday then we can call it quits."

The end?

Hssssssssssss

 Happy birthday CyberPete!