The Secret Log of Jean-Luc Picard

First Edition

by Tim Munro

http://www.StaggeringStories.net/

This eBook is copyright 2010 Tim Munro and is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 licence (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/).

The Secret Log of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Episode 1

Translated and transcribed from the original coded French by Tim Munro © 1989

For too long, the world has been deceived. Through the series Star Trek - The Next Generation, we have all been led to believe that life in the 24th Century will be one long round of adventure in a disciplined and civilized Universe. However, we at Star Begotten are now in possession of documents which shoot to pieces the cosy image of life aboard the USS Enterprise. These documents, transported from the 24th Century via the now fabled SB office time warp, cast new light on the crew's relationships and day-to-day life...

Stardate 41799.7

A bad day. I had gone to the Holodeck to investigate reports that person or persons unknown had programmed in a Roman orgy populated by 53 sex-crazed Tasha Yars smothered in Golden Syrup. I actually found the damn thing programmed with a Barbara Cartland novel (I suspect Lt Worf may be responsible for this).

While I was in there, the bloody computer fucked up again and I spent the next seventeen hours being pursued by a chaste virginal blonde with moist quivering lips, and a sturdy broad-chested man with dark gypsy eyes and rough, masculine hands.

Eventually rescued by LaForge. He told me the Holodeck malfunction had been caused by electrical overload in Data's quarters. Have told Data that if he tries shagging the mains socket in his quarters one more time, I will personally see him demoted to latrine duty on the USS Obsolete!!

Stardate 41800.2

Bloody Q turned up again today. His latest "jolly wheeze" was to assume the form of a 20th Century alleged "comedian" named Bernard Manning and materialize in front of the  Enterprise while we were bombing along at Warp 6! LaForge says it will take at least 37 days to get the dent out of the saucer section.

Stardate 41801.7

Visited Holodeck again. Somebody has programmed it with a Roman orgy populated by 53 sex-crazed Tasha Yars smothered in Golden Syrup!!! This is disgusting! Spent approximately six hours... er... clearing the mess up.

Toilets malfunctioned: it seems that only one loo is now operational... at least, that's what Riker said when I caught him sharing a cubicle with Wesley...

Stardate 41802.3

Caught Ensign Crusher coming out of the Holodeck covered in Golden Syrup and other suspicious stains. He insists that it was Riker who set up the Roman orgy program. Went to his quarters to sort this out, but he was occupied.

I must remind Riker that it is against Starfleet Regulations to have sheep in one's quarters... unless, of course, one is an Admiral.

Stardate 41803.3

Assembled whole crew and announced that I did not think it was at all funny to program the Holodeck with 53 sex-crazed facsimiles of the ship's security chief. Unfortunately most of the crew were unaware of this incident until I mentioned it and there was a stampede of all hands towards the Holodeck. None of them managed to get, though, because Lt Yar reached the Holodeck ahead of them and locked the door. Was witnessed leaving five hours later looking, "rather disheveled, but contented." Ah well, if we put up with the forms of dress adopted by certain members of the crew....

Stardate 41804.7

Starfleet has lost contact with the outpost on Eijel 7 and we have been sent to investigate. We found Eijel 7 ripped asunder by firestorms and littered with hideously mutilated corpses and people dying in excruciating agony.

Asked Troi for her opinion. She said. "I detect great pain and suffering, Captain" Stupid Betazoid tart! She should be on Mastermind, that! Counselor Deanna Troi; specialist subject: the bleedin' obvious!!

Stardate 41805.2

Q again!! He tried the old "temptation" ploy - the one that failed miserably last time! This time he offered Wesley the chance to lose his virginity with any woman of his choice. Despite the suspicious look of extreme expectation on the face of Lt Yar, Ensign Crusher declined the offer and replied that he loved Commander Riker and wished to stay aboard the Enterprise in order to have his babies.

I am starting to worry about young Wesley: a mega-genius and Starfleet Academy candidate, yet nobody's taught him elementary biology!

Q went off in a huff...

Stardate 41806.23

Found Wesley and Riker in a cupboard. They said they were familiarising themselves with all aspects of the ship's design.

Visited Holodeck. Asked for Dixon Hill, but got Benny Hill instead and then the doors jammed again. Spent thirteen hours being chased by leggy blonde women wearing only impractical underwear and Henry McGee dressed as a traffic warden. Rescued by LaForge just as Mr Hill was slapping my head for the 237th time! For some obscure reason he seemed to find this amusing.

Found Riker teaching Ensign Crusher elementary first aid in the Turbolift. They'd just reached the Kiss of Life. Wesley seemed commendably keen on this part of his officer's training..

Stardate 41807.3

Our big day - a tour of inspection by the 130 year-old Starfleet veteran, Admiral James T Kirk, who commanded the Enterprise cruiser 78 years ago.

It was an absolute bloody disaster.

Admiral Kirk beamed in with his rocket-propelled commode. For some peculiar reason, he wears a Tribble on his head. Spent entire visit desperately trying not to mention this and glaring at sniggering crew members. Tribble pissed down Kirk's face twice and he didn't notice!!

Introduced the Admiral to some of my Bridge Crew. On meeting Counselor Troi he "accidentally" dropped his phaser down the front of her dress and insisted on retrieving it personally.

Five hours later, we began the tour.

Started in Engineering, where I introduced the Admiral to Lt Worf. Kirk flew into a hysterical rage, called Worf a '"Klingon Bastard" and raved about his son for the best part of an hour!

Well how was I supposed to know that his son got murdered by Klingons?!? Christ, it was 58 years ago - you'd think the stupid old git would've got over it by now!! Stopped off in the canteen. Admiral Kirk proceeded to eat the Kestari ambassador, who we were supposed to be transporting to Sentor V!! Riker suggests taking a lamb chop to Sentor V; after all, nobody can tell the difference. In fact, some people say you'd get better conversation out of a lamb chop.

Next stop - sickbay. I must say Beverley coped very well with the Admiral's phaser-down-the-blouse trick...

Showed Kirk round the Bridge. He wasn't impressed with Data - suggested we get "a sexy Vulcan instead," then demanded to know why female crew members weren't in mini-skirts and appeared to be doing non-menial jobs! I explained my belief in female equality. Kirk laughed and said, "All these feminists need is a good shagging!"

Discussed the Prime Directive, which Kirk says was a lot simpler in his day. Apparently it used to read: "Shoot the slimey bastards before they shoot you!" Noticing Welsey in his dress uniform, Kirk muttered: "In my day, men like that were gassed... unless they were in the command structure, of course."

Just as I thought nothing else could go wrong, Q materialised, dressed as Napoleon. He took one look at Kirk and said: "Hey, Picard, who's the ugly old fart with the Tribble on his head?" Admiral Kirk screamed the place down and jetted off the Bridge in a towering rage, saying this was the worst run, most ill-disciplined Starship he'd ever set wheels on and he would personally see me demoted to toilet attendant on the USS Obsolete.

Q buggered off before I could have a word with him - that entity has no conception of what is not acceptable behaviour when we have guests.

Introduced the Admiral to Tasha. He "lost" his phaser again... Last I heard, he was still in Intensive Care at Starfleet Medical and hadn't regained consciousness...

The Secret Log of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Episode 2

Translated and transcribed from the original coded French by Tim Munro © 1989

Of all the mysteries which have troubled the scholars of the history of the United Federation of Planets Starship 'Enterprise', none has proved more mystifying than the disappearance for a whole year of Chief Medical Officer Beverly Crusher. Until now, the exact reasons for her absence have been unknown. However, newly discovered documents, which recently fell though a timewarp from the 24th century, throw staggering new light on the whole affair, and suggest that our entire picture of 24th century life may have to be reassessed. What follows is an exact translation of this exciting and shocking discovery...

Stardate 42000.1

This is absolutely the worst bloody day of my entire sodding career. In fact if things carry on like this I've a good mind to jack in my Starfleet commission and go back to that dreary vineyard and my bastard brother. At least there I get to shag that fruity bint he married... whereas here I am now stuck without a single willing woman within ten light years. Except Troi, of course, but she's besotted with Commander 'Rather a Wally' Riker.

Anyway... where was I? Oh yes... our troubles began when I received notification that the head of Starfleet Medical, Doctor Romeo Shaggem, would be beaming aboard to make a tour of inspection. Fine, I thought. Nothing wrong with that. And like the idiot I am, I assembled a welcoming party consisting of myself, Riker, Worf... and Beverly.

AAAGGGHHHHHH!!! WHY!?! WHY DIDN'T I REMEMBER???? Dear God, how did I forget?!? I mean, Romeo Shaggem was in MY YEAR at Starfleet Academy! He was bloody notorious! You name it, he screwed it! Anything in a skirt... which led to some damned embarrassing incidents on full dress uniform occasions, I can tell you! Nobody in their right mind could forget Shaggem... and yet I, Jean-Luc Picard, wally of the universe and first class dickhead, virtually served up my totty to him on a plate! I must be going soft in the head!

Needless to say, I recognised the lecherous little git the minute he materialised in the transporter. In fact he gives me the same feeling of dread I get whenever I pass a tar-pit. Unfortunately by that time it was already too late. Before I could even order Chief O'Brien to 'accidentally' hit the molecular scatter control, Romeo had bounded off the transporter pad and was pinning Beverly... MY Beverly... to the wall.

"Hey, doll," he leered, rummaging in her uniform, "What's a gorgeous chick like you doing with old Baldy Picard?"

Sleazeball.

He's still got all his hair, the bastard. And he's a year older than I am!! I must ask Admiral Kirk where he gets his tribbles.

Ahem... anyway... Romeo then said, "Okay, babe. Let's you and me go down to Sick Bay so's I can examine your equipment in comfort. If you're really lucky, you might even get to handle my tricorder. Know what I mean?"

And with that, he whisked Beverly off into Sick Bay, security locked the door, and that was the last we saw of them for nine hours!

Sat on the bridge and fumed. Troi told me she sensed "great joy and pleasure" coming from Sick Bay. Told Troi that she was a stupid Betazoid tart, and that I had every intention of selling her to the Ferengi at the first opportunity.

Troi went off in tears. Silly cow.

Took a stroll down to Sick Bay. Found Riker and Ensign Crusher earwigging at the door. Wesley was looking very puzzled and remarked to Commander Riker that, quote, "She never makes noises like that with me". I sent them both packing with a flea in their ears. If there's one thing I will not tolerate, it's prying into the private affairs of other crewmembers.

Listened at the door for an hour. Sod it - Wesley was right.

Returned to the bridge in a towering rage, just in time to witness a mysterious alien vessel turn up, and to hear its pilot, some purple tosser with his scrotum on his head, hail us. It was the usual rubbish, of course... something about some daft treaty with the Federation etc etc. In other words. the same boring old crap we've heard a thousand times before, and I'm afraid I rather lost my rag over it. In fact I ordered Mr. Worf to "blow the purple motherfuckers away."

Ah well... If anyone asks, we can always say the Romulans did it.

Anyway, it was about then that Beverly and Romeo emerged from Sick bay, looking dishevelled, covered in suspicious stains, and with Beverly carrying a packed suitcase! When I demanded to know what was going on, Romeo elbowed me in the ribs and leered, "She's coming with me, Baldy. Know what I mean"

When I asked Beverly to explain, she said, "I'm sorry, Jean-Luc. Romeo has offered me a very interesting new position at Starfleet Medical."

Yes, I bet he has. The bastard!

So... the next thing I know, they're on the transporter pad, ready to leave! I did ask Romeo what the hell I was supposed to do for a Chief Medical Officer from now on, but he just pointed at Worf and said, "Get Bum Features there to do it." Needless to say I tried to protest, but by then Chief O'Brien had already energized and they were beaming out. Beverly's last words to me were Goodbye, Jean-Luc. It's been fun. Oh... by the way l 've been faking it. See you!"

Cow!

Oh my God, and I've just realised... she's LEFT US with WEASLEY!! Oh, the bitch! The utter, utter BITCH!!!

Dashed up to the bridge and fired a photon torpedo at Romeo's departing ship. Heh heh heh. I knocked out his warp engines, it'll take him months to get home. I suppose Starfleet will kick up a fuss, but who gives a shit - I'm prepared to take full responsibility.

If anyone asks, I'll say the Klingons did it.

Passing Beverly's old room tonight, I heard some very odd noises. Investigating, I discovered Ensign Crusher on Beverly's bed, minus his trousers. Further investigation revealed Commander Riker hiding under the bed, stark naked and clutching the aforementioned trousers. Riker explained that he had been checking for concealed Romulan spies, and had taken off his uniform to minimise friction between himself and the bed. He further explained that he had intended using Ensign Crusher's pants to tie up any Romulans he might find.

Hmmm... I must say, I'm not entirely convinced. Riker knows as well as I do that Romulans never hide under beds. With those shoulder pads, they can only hide in cupboards. I hope my First Officer isn't secretly in with the Tomeloks.

Ah well... must go now. Admiral Hansen is waiting for me on sub-space. Something about war unexpectedly breaking out with the Purple Scrotheads of Anaconda V. Apparently they sent an unarmed science vessel to make a friendly contact with the Federation today, and some twit of a Starship captain blew the poor sods away. I bet it was Maxwell....

The Secret Log of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Episode 3

Translated and transcribed from the original coded French by Tim Munro © 1989

THE STORY SO FAR .... The United Federation of Planets is at war with the Purple Scrotheads of Anaconda V. Doctor Beverly Crusher has eloped with Romeo Shaggem, the head of Starfleet Medical. The U.S.S. Enterprise is thus without a Chief Medical Officer.....

STARDATE 42000.2

Lieutenant Worf's first day as acting C.M.O.

It was an absolute sodding disaster.

His first case was a civilian passenger who had almost drowned in the ship's swimming pool, and thus had to be given the kiss of life. Within three seconds of Mr. Worf applying his mouth to hers, the patient made a peculiar gurgling noise, went into a convulsion and died!!

I was about to smell Worf's breath when I thought better of it, and ordered Lieutenant Redshirt to do it instead. After one sniff, Lieutenant Redshirt made a peculiar gurgling noise, went into a convulsion and died!!

I asked Mr. Worf when he had last cleaned his teeth or used mouthwash. Worf replied that cleaning one's teeth was "not the Klingon way" and "only poofs used mouthwash."

Later, Counselor Troi summoned him to attend a case of clinical depression, which he decided to cure by slapping the patient's face and shouting at him to pull himself together. The only result of this was to make the patient break down in tears - whereupon Worf hit him again, causing multiple fractures and concussion.

Summoned Mr. Worf to my Ready Room, and demanded an explanation. He replied that he believed in Holistic Medicine, and added that he had, in fact, alleviated the patient's condition, since the man was far too preoccupied with his broken limbs to waste time being depressed. Worf added that in his opinion, and with the greatest respect, "all Humans are sissies... Sir."

This is not going to work.

STARDATE 42001.3

Fifteen wounded in a close encounter with a Purple Scrothead Battlecruiser. Examining the badly gashed arm of Lt. T'Ping, Worf announced his intention to operate in the "Traditional Klingon manner" without anaesthetic or instruments.

It is my sad duty to record that Lt. T'Ping died at 0500 hours, a result of shock caused by unexpectedly having her arm ripped off at the shoulder.

I think I feel one of my headaches coming on.

STARDATE 4201.2

Lt. Sanderson went into labour at 0300 hours. Arriving on the scene, Acting CMO Worf announced his intention of performing a Caesarian section.

It is my sad duty to record that Lt. Sanderson and her unborn triplets died at 0330 hours.

I have confiscated Lt. Worf's pen-knife.

STARDATE 42012.3

It is my sad duty to record that Lt. Cmdr. Sanderson, husband of the late Lt. Sanderson, whose death I noted yesterday, died today at 1400 hours. Cause of death was a broken neck and severe skull fractures sustained whilst leaping on Lt. Worf from behind and attempting to severe his jugular with a Flomarian Fruit knife. Witnesses report that Lt. Cmdr. Sanderson's last words cast serious doubt on Acting CMO Worf's parentage and medical competance and made certain actionable accusations regarding Worf's close personal relationships with Tribbles.

I can't take much more of this.

STARDATE 42023.1

Acting CMO Worf today conducted a sex education class for the ship's teenagers. What follows is a special report prepared by Acting Ensign Weasley Crusher.

"Ensign Crusher reporting, Sir. At 0900 hours I reported to lecture room 5 on deck 3, where Acting Chief Medical Officer Worf was scheduled to conduct a sex education class. At 0905, Lt. Worf commenced the session with a lecture on female sexuality, based on the premise that all women are "dying for it." Lt. Worf cited Counselor Troi as an example and continued with a 90 minute slide presentation designed to demonstrate that, quote, Betazoids will drop them for anyone." At 1100 hours, Lt. Worf wound up the lecture with a brief film involving two Vulcans, a Ferengi and a vat of Klaebian Industrial Lubricant. He that asked if there were any questions.

"Ensign Fleischmann asked about safe sex. Lt. Worf responded that the most reliable form of safe sex was "doing it when her husband is away on a deep space exploration mission."

"Ensign Legato then made a query regarding foreplay. Lt. Worf replied to this with a ten minute dissertation on the joys of flagellation, followed by a demonstration of the hurling of heavy objects and a recitation of the Klingon Love Poem "nuqDaq Dochvam vllan baH". The class broke up, as did several desks, six chairs and the lecture room computer screen, at 1130 hours.

Report ends."

La Forge tells me it will take six days to repair the lecture room. I have severely reprimanded Lt. Worf for the criminal damage of ship's facilities, and for passing on false information regarding Counselor Troi, who does NOT bloody well drop them for anyone, and I should know!! Ensign Crusher nodded vigorousley in agreement with this. I'm not too sure what to make of that.

Riker tells me there was a queue of fifteen teenage boys outside Deanna's room tonight. That's odd. When I went past at midnight, there were only ten....

STARDATE 42033.2

Today's casualty figures:

Twelve injured in a minor skirmish with a Purple Scrothead Fighter.

Nineten injured and three dead, as a result of Lt. Worf conducting a keep fit class for the ship's Darby and Joan club.

THIS IS GETTING BEYOND A BLOODY JOKE!!!

STARDATE 42042.1

Called Admiral Hansen on sub-space, and pleaded with the senile old fart to send us a properly qualified Chief Medical Officer before Worf wipes out the entire crew. Hansen just shrugged he was terribly sorry but there was a shortage of doctors right now. Apparently they've all been transfered to Starfleet Medical, where they're working on "a top secret project" with Shaggem. And to quote the Admiral, "Shaggem insists we can't disturb them while they're on the job, Picard."

Huh! Yes, I bet he does. And I bet they are !!

Nothing else for it. I'll have to try the rest of the crew.

STARDATE 42042.2

Relieved Lt. Worf of his duties as Acting CMO and announced my intention to throw the post open to anyone who cared to apply. Chief Engineer Geordi LaForge duly offered his services.

Message from Admiral Hansen at 1500 hours. The war with the Purple Scrotheads is over. Apparently a special expedition was sent back through time to the very beginning of the Scrothead race, where a Starfleet officer acting under special instructions, trod on the first ever Purple Screthead, breaking it's neck and thus ensuring that the species never actually evolved in the first place. I pointed out to the Admiral that

A). This was a barbarous act of genocide.

B). It was disgraceful interference in the course of history, and,

C). Above all, that it was a grossly illegal violation of the Prime Directive.

Admiral Hansen said that this was true - so if anybody asks, we're to say that Admiral Kirk did it

STARDATE 42042.3

Lieutenant LaForge's first day as Acting Chief Medical Officer. Oh my God.

Halfway through his first operation, LaForge suffered a violent sneezing fit!! The patient, Lt. Damato, died at 2100 hours. We continue to search his corpse's intestines, but hopes of recovering Lt. LaForge's VISOR are fading by the hour. There are also growing doubts as to the whereabouts of a ratchet spanner, last seen when Lt. LaForge was using it to remove the late Lt Damato's appendix

STARDATE 42042.4

Relieved Lt. LaForge of his duties as Acting CM0, and announced that the post was up for grabs again. Returning to my Ready Room, I found bloody Q waiting for me, wearing a Starfleet Medical uniform, high-heels and a shoulder length red wig. He said that he had heard that there was a job going. I told him to fuck off, and he flashed away in a huff, saying, "I'll be back!", and muttering something I didn't quite catch about the Horg..? Or was it the Forg..? Ah well ....Probably nothing serious.

Passing through Sickbay, I discovered Commander Riker and Ensign Crusher together on a bio-bed, both stark naked. Riker explained that they were thinking of applying for the vacant CMO's post, and had been practicing examination techniques on each other. I asked Riker why he had been using his mouth, Weasley explained that it was a radical new technique, devised at Starfleet Medical. I can believe that.

Terrible row in the corridors tonight. Worf trod on LaForge's Guide Tribble and, in the ensuing punch-up, broke Geordi's white stick over his head. Have set course for Honest Bok's VISOR Emporium on Theta II. We can't go on like this. Lt. LaForge was last seen in Engineering - falling down the DiIithium Crystal Chamber.

STARDATE 42072.3

At last! Summoned to Starbase 15 by Admiral Lavell, who informed me via subspace that the services of a fully qualified Medical Officer had become available.

On arrival, I found five other Starship Captains also waiting to see Lavell, and all looking very worried. At 1200 hours we were all ushered into Lavell's office, where the Admiral announced that since we all needed a CMO, but only one Doctor was available, we would have to draw straws for her! Captain Foster of the U.S.S. Reliant immediatly tried to withdraw from the contest, saying that they were managing perfectly well with a Starfleet Laser Scalpel and a copy of "Elementary Surgical Techniques for Beginners". He was then forcibly restrained by two security guards and the: Admiral, who told him to pull himself together and "face, it like a man."

I began to have a bad feeling about this.

Anyway, we drew lots and I won!! So at last the Enterprise will have a proper, fully qualified ship's doctor!!. I just wish I knew why all the other Captains looked so relieved. And why Mark Simons of the U.S.S. Obsolete patted me on the back and said "Hard luck, Picard" as he was leaving. And why Lester Kubelski of the U.S.S. Intrepid told me I was a brave man!

When they had all gone, Adimiral Lavell saw me out, saying, that our new Doctor would be aboard within 48 hours.

It's odd, you know, but as soon as he'd gone back into his office and the door had closed behind him, I could have sworn that I heard him laughing hysterically. Very perculiar...

Anyway, the new Doctor's personnel file has just arrived. Hmm.. Katherine Pulaski. Never heard of her.

Hang about. It says here that she had a previous appointment, aboard the U.S.S. Excaliber.. That's Dan Gillespie's ship. Dan Gillespie shot himself last month! In fact so did his First Officer. And his chief engineer. AND the ship's counselor! AND Aloysius, the Ship's Tribble!!!!!

OH MY GOD!!!

The Secret Log of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Episode 4

Translated and transcribed from the original coded French by Tim Munro © 1989

THE STORY SO FAR: Doctor Beverly Crusher has eloped with Romeo Shaggem, the head of Starfleet Medical. A new CMO has been assigned to the Enterprise.

STARDATE 42072.8

Oh marvellous. Bloody bloody marvellous. Wouldn't you damn well know it, Starfleet have sent me a new CMO with a face like the north end of a south-bound Ferengi, and all the personality of a photon torpedo. Well, that puts paid to my hopes of getting my end away this year. I suppose it's back to the box of Kleenex and the copy of 'Vulcans In Bondage' from now on.

Anyway... where was I? Oh yes. Well. Doctor Katherine Pulaski beamed aboard at 0900 hours, and got off with a flying start (ahem) by mistaking me for the ship's porter! "Hey, you." she said, clicking her fingers. "Yes, you. The old wrinkly with the head like a boiled egg. Carry my luggage to Sickbay."

Controlling myself with effort, I politely pointed out that I was actually the ship's Captain, and had not spent thirty years working my way up Starfleet in order to end up carrying suitcases. Pulaski roared with laughter at this, and said: "My last Captain was just like you, he was a po-faced stiff-necked old prune too, but I soon sorted him out!"

And with that, she swept out into the corridors, leaving yours truly to stagger along behind carrying her three suitcases, five trunks and inflatable Emperor K'Empec(?!? My God. I didn't know they still made them!). Along the way, Pulaski made disparaging remarks about the cleanliness of the corridors and indiscipline of the crew. When I objected to this, she said dismissively: "Yeah, yeah, sure baldy. Don't worry, I'll soon have this ship running properly. You just mind your place and we'll get along fine."

Bloody nerve!

Things didn't get any better when we reached Sickbay. First she ran her finger-tips over all of the surfaces, whilst grimacing a lot. Then the cheeky cow asked if I'd brought her to the ship's museum by mistake! I retorted rather stiffly that Beverly had never had any complaints. Pulaski roared with laughter and said: "That's not what she's telling everybody at Starfleet Medical!" She added that it is now a "well known fact" that I think the Female Orgasm is an alien life-form! Huh! Flaming cheek! I mean everyone knows it's a Masonic Lodge on Angel One!

Anyway, just as I was about to take my phaser to the old bag, in walked Lieutenant Worf, and the most peculiar thing happened. Suddenly, Bag-of Spanners Pulaski went all... well... gooey. And the next thing I knew, she was smooching up to Klingon-breath, fluttering her eyelashes and cooing: "Oh. Captain, why didn't you tell me you had a sexy Klingon on board? I simply adore Klingons, they're so rough and masculine and masterful."

Yes. And smelly.

Then to make matters worse. Worf started SNIFFING her ARM-PITS!! I mean, CHRIST!! I've never seen ANYTHING so DISGUSTING In all my life!! Well... apart from Riker's beer-gut, of course.

Anyway, just as I was about to vomit, not to mention reprimand Lieutenant Worf for keeping his phaser in his trouser pocket (at least I think it was his phaser), Data came trotting in with a report. Doctor Pulaski immediately recoiled, screaming: "Oh my God, an android!! Keep the filthy thing away from me!!" She then crossed herself, produced a string of garlic and a crucifix from her luggage, and attempted to fend off the Lieutenant Commander with them. Data seemed rather perplexed by this, and asked if he had done anything to offend the lady.

I enquired of Doctor Pulaski if she was, by any chance, prejudiced against androids in some way. “Prejudiced?” she shrieked. “Prejudiced? Good God, no! No, whatever makes you think that? Why should I be prejudiced against it just because it’s mere existence is a satanic obscenity and a crime against nature?”

She then proceeded to call Lieutenant Commander Data a “creepy machine”; implied that he was part of a technologists conspiracy against humanity, and just waiting for the chance to murder us all in our beds using a variety of blunt kitchen utensils; and finally voiced her opinion that he should be gassed, hanged, burnt, disassembled and then atomised for good measure - whereupon she produced a can of petrol from her suitcase, liberally doused Mr. Data with its contents, and set him alight. Data's response was to state that he found this “most intriguing.” Stupid tin sod.

Fortunately myself and Mr. Worf managed to extinguish the flames, and then retreated from the room under a barrage of heavy medical equipment hurled by Doctor Pulaski.

As we got to cover, I noticed a strange gleam in Lieutenant Worf's eye. When I questioned him about this, he explained: “With respect, sir... that is my kind of woman. She is what Klingons would call... a horny bitch, sir.” He then excused himself, saying he had to go and attend to something that had just come up.

I retired to my Ready Room for a lie down. I think I feel one of my headaches coming on. The last I heard of Pulaski, she'd got blitzed in Ten-Forward, beaten Commander Riker in an arm-wrestling contest, and was now standing on the bar singing ‘Four and Twenty Virgins'.

Lieutenant Worf has now been occupying the ships only functioning toilet cubicle for five hours, and crewmembers queuing outside report hearing strange grunting noises from within, while Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher has complained of the theft of a copy of ‘Red-Hot Klingon Lesbians Do It In A Vat of Klaebian Industrial Lubricant’ from his quarters.

I wonder if it's too late to apply for a transfer back to theStargazer?

STARDATE 42072.9

Doctor Pulaski's first day on duty.

Well what can I say? The phrase "absolute fucking disaster" springs most readily to mind.

I was first alerted to the fact that something was amiss when Lieutenant Castrelli staggered onto the bridge and hid under Commander Riker's chair. Since Castrelli has been encased from head to foot in plaster for the last month, ever since breaking his neck, his legs, hisback and all his ribs on Tagiatelli III. I was naturally a little surprised to see him up and about, and asked what was wrong. Lieutenant Castrelli replied: “Oh God, oh God, please don't give me away. I'm safe here so long she doesn't find me.” He then proceeded to gibber.

I went immediately to Sickbay, along the way finding the corridors littered with Sickbay patients, all in a state of collapse. Recognising Lieutenant Wright, who was due for a heart bypass op this afternoon, I asked him what had happened. He replied that Doctor Pulaski had sent all her patients on a five-mile jog, on the grounds that this would be good for them! Lieutenant Wright then made a peculiar gurgling noise, went into a convulsion, and DIED!!

Upon arrival in Sickbay. I found Doctor Pulaski with her feet up on her desk and a bottle of Romulan Ale clutched in her hand! I politely enquired what the bloody hell she thought she was doing filling my Starship with stiffs! She replied: “How the hell am I supposed to do my job with all these goddamn malingerers getting under my feet all day?” She added that “you've got to be vicious to be kind.” When I pointed out that the proverb is actually “You've got to be cruel to be kind”, Pulaski shrugged and said: "Well, you do things your way, baldy..."

On the way our I found Albert Philosan, 137 year old father of Lieutenant Philosan and a patient in our geriatric unit, polishing the floor! He explained he was acting on "Doctor Pulaski's orders", and added that the doctor didn’t believe in "mollycoddling" her patients. Once outside I heard Pulaski yelling at him that she expected to be able to see her face in those tiles - and if she couldn't, she would - quote - "take a surgical phaser" to his prostate gland.

STARDATE 42073.1

Doctor Ferengi Face called a conference at 0900 hours. Apparently Big Tits Troi is up the duff. As soon as this was announced, all present turned and looked at Riker, while Ensign Crusher burst into tears and ran from the room.

I asked Counselor Troi who the father was. She replied with some cock and bull story about an alien presence invading her body last night. I asked if this alien presence had a beard. At this, Troi also burst into tears and ran from the room. Dozy Betazoid tart.

Passing Riker's quarters later. I heard sobbing. then Riker saying: "But darling, you know you're the only one for me." I knocked loudly on Riker's door, and demanded to know if he had a sheep in his quarters again. This provoked a flurry of clattering and banging before a rather flustered-looking Riker opened the door.

Fortunately for him, I was wrong - he had a woman with him. He explained that they had some "personal business' to sort out, so I left them to it. I must say, though. Riker's taste is women is really going to the dogs. This one had HAIRY LEGS!! In fact she could almost have been Wesley wearing a dress and one of his mother's wigs!!

Troi got jammed in the Turbolift doors tonight. It took five hours to extricate her - still, LaForge says it's good practice for if Commander Riker gets any bigger. I can't help thinking there's something weird about Deanna's pregnancy. I mean I know I'm only a layman, but surely it isn't normal for women who're only one day pregnant to have such a huge bulge that they get jammed in Turbolift doorways?

STARDATE 42973.2

It is my pleasant duty to record that Ship's Counselor Deanna Troi gave birth at 0900 hours today to a bouncing 8 year old boy.

Now call me old-fashioned, but I did think that was a teensy bit odd. Went to consult Pulaski, and found her disinfecting the whole of Sickbay. When I asked why, she hissed: "Because that bastard android has been here." She continued: "He was at the birth, you know. Watching. Seeing how it's done. So that when the time is right, they can take over!". She then launched into a long speech, the gist of which was that "these bloody androids" come "over here", they "take our jobs and our women", they "smell of engine grease" and, basically, "should all be sent back to where they came from". I asked if she didn't find Trot's pregnancy a little odd. Pulaski shrugged, said "Search me", and asked if the bar was open. When I persisted, she exploded "Oh for God's sake, if it bothers you that much I'll do some tests! Now get out!"

On my way out of Sickbay, I spotted Lieutenant Worf sneaking in the back way clutching a bunch of flowers and a book of Klingon Love Poetry. When he saw me, he blushed bright pink and said they were for Lieutenant Damato.

I'm getting a bad feeling about this. Either Worf is lying or something very strange is going on. I mean... Lieutenant Damato is six foot three with tattoos and a beard! She's the ugliest woman I've ever seen in my life.

Come to think of it, she'd suit Worf down to the ground.

STARDATE 42073.3

It is my sad duty to report that Ian Andrew Troi, Deanna's recently-born son, today departed this life. After a morning being examined by Pulaski, he suddenly announced that he couldn't take another minute of this, transformed himself into pure energy and departed via the nearest window, pausing only to explain that he was really an alien entity who'd wanted to find out what it was like to be human. He added that if Katherine Pulaski was, typical of the species, then we could - quote "stick humanity up [our] arses". Riker said he'd tried that already, and Wesley sniggered. I'm not sure what to make of that.

Albert Philosan was today found dead in sickbay, face down in a bucket of flash. This brings the fatalities since Pulaski's arrival to one hundred and two, nine of which were suicides, including 8-year-old Tommy McGee, who cut his finger in school, and then slashed his wrists rather than face going to Sickbay.

Feeling depressed, so I went to talk to Guinan. She just smiled sweetly, told me she was sure I was exaggerating, said I should try to understand Pulaski more, and then added that there is good in everybody if you look deep enough.

Told Guinan she was talking bollocks, and went to bed. Honestly, that woman gets on my tits sometimes, she's so damned serene and reasonable. I wouldn't mind, but she's only aboard because of she's got eight-by-ten holo-glossies of me rogering the wife of the Federation President!

With a Tribble.

STARDATE 42073.4

Thirty-two deaths today. The Enterprise now has the highest suicide rate in the whole of Starfleet.

Lieutenant Commander Data reports that person or persons unknown has spray canned “DIE SCUM” and "YELLOW-EYED BASTARDS GO HOME" across the door of his quarters.

Q turned up tonight, dressed as Mad King Ludwig XII. I was almost pleased to see him. He said he'd just been passing and had decided to kidnap one of my crew, told him he could take Doctor Pulaski with my compliments. Q suddenly turned very pale, and said: "Pulaski? Katherine Pulaski? The Katherine Pulaski? She's here?" I confirmed that this was so. Q immediately crossed himself, announced that he'd obviously got the wrong Starship, apologised profusely for intruding, and departed as fast as his Q-flash would carry him, claiming that he had an important appointment in another universe.

Pity. For a moment there I had my hopes up.

STARDATE 42073.5

Guinan tried to hang herself today. Fortunately LaForge stopped her. Good job too, we'd be in schtuck without her - she's the only one who knows the identity of our hash supplier.

It turned out that she'd just met Pulaski for the first time - in fact she's endured three hours of the woman! When I reached Ten-Forward she was in a terrible state. "Jean-Luc, you have got of get rid of that woman!!” she said. “She is not human! She is the devil incarnate! And if you say 'I told you so'. I'll disembowel you with my hat!!”

I told her so. Well, perhaps this'll teach her a lesson. Smug cow.

STARDATE 42073.6

It seems Worf has finally worked out what an old hag his intended is. He was seen entering her quarters at 1500 hours. Ten minutes later we heard the sounds of splintering wood and smashing glass coming from inside, followed by the sound of Worf and Pulaski screaming obscenities at each other. Within seconds a crush had formed in the corridor, and Riker had sealed off the area and was selling admission tickets to the crew! I also caught Data running a sweepstake! This was a direct violation of regulations, and I severely reprimanded him. However, since he was offering, in his own words, "very good odds on the frosty-faced cow getting pulverised. Captain", I had a little flutter myself.

Worf emerged at 1700 hours, with his uniform in tatters and a big grin on his face. The crew gave him a round of applause. Unfortunately. Pulaski appeared two seconds later. ALIVE and UNMARKED! Oh... damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!!

Went to my Ready Room and had a good cry.

STARDATE 42073.7

LaForge says the damage to Pulaski's quarters will take fifteen weeks to put right. The place looks like a photon torpedo has hit it. Also there's a strange sticky substance adhering to the walls, which so far has defied analysis.

Summoned Mr. Worf to my Ready Room and severely reprimanded him, saying that whilst I appreciate his feelings towards Doctor Pulaski, I could not countenance the wilful destruction of Starfleet property. At this Worf exploded: "Captain, I protest. This is a clear violation of my Civil rights! You have no authority to interfere with my sex-life!"

Sex-life?!? Oh my God.

Worf continued: "I have the right, laid down, in regulations,to express my sexuality in any way - in this case hurling heavy objects, a traditional Klingon expression of love!"

Hmm. I think Mama and Papa must have had Klingon blood in them somewhere. They were always hurling heavy objects at each other.

I apologised to Worf, and dismissed him. As he left he asserted that Doctor Pulaski was a fine woman whom he deeply loved, and who quote - "bangs like a holodeck door during a computer fault."

As soon as he was gone. I was violently sick into my tropical fish. I mean, dear God... WORF! And PULASKI!! It doesn't bear THINKING about!

And I shudder to think what the stuff on the walls is!

EDITOR'S NOTE: At this point the log entries give way to a series of Sub-Space Communications between the USS Enterprise and Starfleet Medical. They are here reproduced verbatim and in chronological order:

Dearest Beverly - Please come home. Yours always - Jean -Luc

Jean-Luc - No - Beverly.

Dearest sweet lambikins - Please, please come home. I am dying without you. Yours on-bended-knee - Jean-Luc.

Jean-Luc - No! And stop sending these stupid communications! – Beverly.

Light of my life, please come home. I promise I won't ever ask you to shave it again. My existence is meaningless without you, say yes my beloved - Jean-Luc.

Jean-Luc - For the last time, will you take no for an answer. You have no understanding of my needs as a woman, and I refuse to submit to your revolting maulings ever again - Beverly.
P.S. Your last message made me physically sick.

Beverly - I take it that's a no then? - Jean -Luc.

Jean-Luc - ooh, ooh, ROMEO!! Not now!! Can't you see I'm on Sub-Space? I... ooh... Jean-Luc, listen... aah... for the last time will you leave me alone... aah... no, not you, Romeo... ooh... I'm not coming... oh God, I am, I am... I'm not coming home Jean-Luc... and that's f-final... oh, God, down a bit, down a bit, THAT'S IT!!! - Beverly.

Beverly - Please yourself then, you old rat- - Jean-Luc.
P.S. By the way, I've had better shags out of my inflatable Admiral Uhura than I ever got from you.

STARDATE 42074.1

THE BITCH!! THE BLOODY BITCH!! I'M GONNA HANG HER!! GARROTTE HER!! I'M GONNA STRAP HER TO A BIO-BED AND MAKE HER LISTEN TO EVERY BASTARD ONE OF DATA'S SO-CALLED AMUSING AFTERDINNER ANECDOTES!!

Now calm down, Jean-Luc, breathe deeply and relax. Think calm, that's it.

NNYYEEAAGGHH!! I HATE HER!! I HATE HER!! I'D LIKE TO HACK OFF HER HEAD. SCOOP OUT THE INSIDES AND SELL IT TO THE FERENGI AS AN ORNAMENTAL FRUITBOWL!!

D'you know what she said to me?!? What she had the bloody nerve to say to ME?!??

When I went down to Sickbay to demand an explanation of how Lieutenant Commander Data came to be tarred and feathered in his quarters last night!!! She said. SHE SAID.... "OKAY. KEEP YOUR HAIR ON"!!!!!!

"KEEP YOUR HAIR ON!!!! TO ME!!!! THE BLOODY BLOODY BITCH!! Well, that does It. I've been patient. I've been tolerant. But this is my limit. My patience is exhausted.

THE BITCH MUST DIE!!!!!!

TO BE CONTINUED.

The Secret Log of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Episode 5

Translated and transcribed from the original coded French by Tim Munro © 1989

THE STORY SO FAR: Doctor Beverley Crusher has eloped with Romeo Shaggem, the head of Starfleet Medical. Relations between her replacement, Doctor Katherine Pulaski, and Captain Picard have reached rock bottom. In fact, he has decided to kill her.

Stardate 42186.2

Ha hah ! I've got it ! I've got it ! At last I know how to get rid of the frosty-faced bitch ! Riker's let slip that she's in the habit of taking an afternoon nap on the bio-bed at the far end of Sickbay. Well the next time she takes a snooze, she'll get the shock of her fucking life - literally! I'm going link the bugger up to the mains ! That'll make her bloody eyes water !

Anyway, must go now. I've got work to do. Heh heh heh.

Stardate 42186.3

Aaaahhh. Just a few hours more and Guinan will be serving Pulaski kebabs in Ten forward. I can't wait.

Summoned LaForge to my Ready room at 1700 hours to look over my blueprints for the electrified bio-bed. After studying them, Geordi asked exactly why I wished to link a bio-bed into the ship's power supply. I replied vaguely that I'd been reading about the therapeutic effects of subjecting patients to an electrical current, and felt that we ought to experiment with this. Geordi said he believed that some research had been done in this area, but that he seriously doubted whether the application of ten thousand mega-volts, as specified in my plans would be beneficial to anyone. I replied that I could think of at least one person who would be vastly improved by it ! Unfortunately, LaForge still wasn't happy. He said he suspected that I was planning something fundamentally immoral, and was therefore obliged to refuse his co-operation. I told him that if that was his attitude, I'd just have to "accidentally" mention to Deanna the Red Hot Betazed Counsellor In Bondage program which he'd fed into Holodeck 3. LaForge suddenly went very pale (which is a sight worth seeing, I can tell you !), snatched up my plans, and eagerly began to suggest improvements.

At midnight, I went down to Ten Forward. Guinan asked why I was looking so cheerful. I let her in on my little secret, and she roared with laughter - in fact, she asked if I was planning to sell tickets. She reckons there'd be quite an audience to see, quote, "the sourfaced mother fry". When I left, she was putting six crates of Romulan champagne on ice - she thinks she'll have quite a party going in there by this time tomorrow

Returning to my quarters, I discovered Data on fire in the corridors. It seems Pulaski had ambushed him with her home-made flame-thrower again. Told him not to worry. Tomorrow, it'll be Pulaski who's looking for the fire extinguisher.

Oh, I'm going to enjoy this. In fact I haven't felt so happy since that time Riker got his beer-gut caught in the turbolift doors !

Stardate 42186.4

Well, this is it ! The big day. LaForge has rigged up the bio-bed, and Chief O'Brien has installed it. All we have to do now is sit back and await the screams of agony from Sickbay.

I must admit, I wasn't too sure at first about involving O'Brien, but as soon as I showed him the plans, he asked : "Ah... is it meant to fry that old bag Pulaski, sir ?". It turns out that he hates her for discussing his last dose of the Sicolian Clap very loudly in Ten Forward, when Keiko, O'Brien's latest bit of oriental totty, was sitting right next to her !

Well, it's 1400 hours now. Shouldn't be much longer before they're scraping Doctor Klingon Breath off the roof. Think I'll take a stroll past Sickbay...

Happy days are here again, the skies above are clear again...

Stardate 42186.5

AAGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!

I don't want to live. I do not want to live ! That bloody hag has the luck of the devil. It's just not fair - I mean, what in Sarek's name do I have to do to get rid of the old bag ?!? I really thought I'd cracked it this time, but no... no, true to form, fate pisses in my matter/antimatter reaction formula once again. If I didn't know better, I'd swear she was Q's idea of a joke... except that even Q couldn't be that sick !

 I must admit, I had my doubts when twenty four hours had passed without so much as a squeak from Sickbay. However, just as I was starting to worry, the lights dimmed and the Red Alert siren went off. "That's it!!" I thought. "At last, I'm rid of the old bat !!" Huh. I should've known better.

I was halfway through the third verse of "Everything's Coming Up Roses" when Pulaski's voice came over the comm system, requesting my immediate presence in Sickbay. Well, actually "requesting" is putting it a bit mildly. What she actually said was "Hey baldy. Get your ass down here, pronto. Lard-arse and the brat have got themselves roasted!”

The horror of that moment will live with me forever. Troi asked if I was alright - she said she sensed great despair coming from my direction. Called Troi a stupid Betazoid tart, and punched her on the nose. At this, the entire bridge crew burst into spontaneous applause.

Arriving in Sickbay, I found Pulaski attending to Commander Riker and Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher. Both were suffering from first degree burns, into which Pulaski was rubbing salt.  When I queried the wisdom of this, she snapped that it was an old folk remedy, adding that I should mind my own "goddamned business". "Who's the goddamned Doctor around here ?" she snapped. I replied acidly that I sometimes wondered about that myself. "Listen, baldy," Pulaski snarled, "I don't come up to the bridge and tell you how to run the ship, so don't you tell me how to do my job !"

Riker pointed out that she frequently did come up to the bridge and tell me how to run the ship, adding that he was in screaming agony and could she please stop rubbing salt on him. Pulaski told him to stop being so cissy, and snapped that his burns wouldn't have been so bad if he'd been wearing his uniform at the time !

With a sinking heart, I enquired how Riker and Wesley had come to suffer their injuries. Pulaski said that one of her bio-beds had mysteriously become electrified while they were lying on it. I demanded to know what Riker had been doing lying stark naked on a biobed with a 17 year old Acting Ensign. For some reason, Pulaski found this hysterically funny. Riker explained that, seeing the bio-bed's link to the mains, he and Wesley had taken it to be the new ultraviolet sunbed Pulaski recently ordered with her drugs budget, and had decided to "catch a few rays". Hmmm. I have to say, I'm not convinced. For starters, I'd like to know why Wesley was covered in baby oil. He says he mistook the bottle for sun-tan lotion, but that sounds a bit fishy to me.

Pulaski then remarked that the offending bio-bed was the one she usually slept on. "Lucky I wasn't lying on it, eh baldy ?" she said, and nudged me in the ribs. Luckily I managed to get outside before I started to cry.

After that I couldn't face the rest of the day, so I went to Ten Forward to get rat-arsed. Unfortunately, O'Brien had beaten me to it, and drunk the place dry. By the time I got there, he was standing on the bar and singing Four and Twenty Virgins Beamed Down from Betazed ! As for Guinan, the last I saw of her she'd decided Pulaski must be the Anti-Christ, and was trying to get hold of a reputable dagger salesman on sub-space.

Came back to my Ready Room, and spent the evening reading the Sits Vac column in the Starfleet Gazette. There's no bloody justice in this universe. Still... at least things can't get any worse.

Stardate 41286.6

Oh bloody marvelous. Wouldn't you know it, nobody bothered to disconnect the electrified bio-bed, and now Worf's discovered it ! In fact he's locked himself in Sickbay with it ! Nobody can get in there, and all we've been able to hear for the last five hours is the crackle of electricity and orgasmic Klingon howls ! Ruddy pervert ! Still, I suppose we shouldn't expect much better from someone whose father used to dress up as a Romulan and pick up Ferengi in nightclubs !

Think I can feel on of my h headaches coming on.

Stardate 42193.6

Well, we've had the bloody lot today ! A hole in space, mysterious illusions, and to cap it all, yet another bloody God-like entity. All we needed to make things complete was for yours truly to get off with some green alien bimbo dressed only in a mini-skirt, silver go-go boots and a tin bra ! Then I could've told Admiral Kirk  that we'd finally had an adventure just like one of his ! The only bright spot in the whole lousy day was a brief, blissful moment when I thought we'd finally got rid of Doctor Ferengi Face. No such bloody luck, though.

Of course, it was all Data's fault, the stupid tin sod. There I was with my feet up in my quarters, happily ramming pins into my Pulaski voodoo doll, when old Fully Functional came on the comm system to tell me he'd detected a "fascinating spatio-temporal anomaly" directly in our path. He then proceeded to drone on about how "fascinating" this was for so long that by the time I realised what was happening, he'd flown us straight into the bloody thing ! I mean, CHRIST!! Useless flaming heap of junk. I've a good mind to see if the Daystrom institute can't convert him into something more useful like a hatstand !

Anyway, pausing only to collect a ratchet spanner, with which I intended to sever Data's vocal chords at the first available opportunity, I headed for the bridge. By the time I got there, all hell had broken loose - we were trapped in some kind of void, a Romulan War-Bird had decloaked off our starboard bow, and Worf had immediately blown it away with our photon torpedoes, yelling "Eat photon, you parent murdering bastards !" and "this one's for Mom !!" as he did so.

I must remember to confiscate Worf's Rambo videos. They're clearly having a very bad effect on him.

Just then, the ruddy U.S.S. Yamato came chugging into view. Well I knew that had to be an illusion, I mean the Yamato is Donald Varley's ship, and you wouldn't catch Varley anywhere near this end of the galaxy at the moment not when the Argo Tribble Fetishist's Convention still has three weeks left to run ! So, weighing up the situation, I decided to send an Away Team over there. Counsellor Troi immediately objected, saying that such a mission would be highly dangerous. Considering this, I had to admit that she was probably right. I therefore decided to pursue the only course of action open to a Starfleet Captain with my integrity, courage and sense of honour.

I sent Riker.

After he'd been over there fifteen minutes, Lard-arse called back to say that the entire Yamato was deserted, and could we please send Ensign Crusher over there as he's like his help in exploring the ship's many empty and rather cosy bedrooms. Told Riker to pull himself together and concentrate on the job in hand. Riker said that he'd love to - that's why he wanted Wesley. Ensign Crusher sniggered loudly. I'm not sure quite what to make of that.

Just then, Riker announced that the Yamato appeared to have two bridges. Told Riker that if I've warned him once about smoking Guinan's funny fags whilst on duty, I've warned him a hundred bloody times. Riker protested indignantly at this, stating that substances of a less than legal nature had never so much as passed his lips. He then giggled and asked if I'd excuse him for a moment, as the King of the Pixies wished to consult him on an urgent matter regarding a marmalade tree. Told Riker to get his fat arse back over here at once.

Just as he'd beamed back, that old cow Pulaski came storming onto the bridge. She said she'd just lost the reception on her sub-space TV set at a crucial moment in the Klingon soap opera DeadEnders, and demanded to know what I intended to do about it. Data attempted to explain the situation, but Pulaski predictably recoiled, shrieking "Keep away from me, you creepy white bastard." She then produced a hand grenade and attempted to stuff it down Data's trousers. Data looked bewildered, and asked if this was what humans meant by "having a bang".

At that moment, the cause of all this finally decided to put in an appearance on the viewscreen. Ugly bugger he was too. Why these bloody aliens can't find themselves a decent plastic surgeon I will never know. Anyway, it turned out this chap was called Nagilam, and after studying us for a moment, he announced that he found us "intriguing". Oh great, I thought. Another one!

Nagilam asked what we were, so I endeavoured to explain. Nagilam then notice Pulaski, and remarked that she was "different". I told him I thought that was putting it mildly. Nagilam asked what Pulaski was. The crew began taking a vote on it. Pulaski told Nagilam that she was female. Nagilam asked what the purpose of females was, so I attempted to explain sexual reproduction to him. Nagilam said that it sounded fascinating, and asked if we'd mind demonstrating. Immediately, Ensign Crusher tore down his trousers and boxer shorts and hurtled towards Counsellor Troi, yelling "Geronimo !". Fortunately Data and Worf managed to wrestle him to the ground just in time, whereupon Riker burst into tears, called Wesley a "two-timing little slut", and ran from the room. Nagilam said he found this most puzzling. I told him I knew the feeling.

Nagilam then asked if it was true that we humans only had a limited existence. I confirmed that this was so, whereupon Nagilam announced that he intended to study this phenomenon called 'death', and that in order to do so he would have to kill various members of my crew. I immediately offered our full co-operation, and volunteered Doctor Pulaski's services. Nagilam thanked me, but said that actually he fancied this "sexual reproduction" for himself, and he'd prefer to save Pulaski for that. At this, Worf gave a bellow of rage, and announced that he and the Ferengi Face had performed the Klingon ritual of K'Nob Bla'Tach. He then listed the rights which this gave him over Pulaski's orifices, it such obscene and revolting detail that several of the bridge crew were violently sick. After about a minute of Worf's rantings, Nagilam announced that this was all extremely boring and that he had better things to do with his time - whereupon both he and Pulaski disappeared. The crew gasped in disbelief for a moment. Then, ship-wide jubilation broke out.

Sadly, this lasted only until I tried to get as far away from the area as quickly as possible - at which point we discovered that the ship was stuck fast and wouldn't move an inch. We endured this for about five hours, most of which Worf spent sobbing over the loss of his beloved... Then, finally, I got so fed up with it all that I activated the self-destruct and announced to Nagilam that if he didn't let us go immediately, I'd blow the lot of us to pieces, and for all I cared he could clear up the extremely bloody mess afterwards ! Nagilam immediately appeared on the viewscreen, looking very pale, and announced that he'd just been about to send Pulaski back. At this, panic swept the ship, and O'Brien led a stampede for the life capsules. I immediately fell to my knees, and began begging and pleading with Nagilam. Unfortunately he misunderstood; he said there was no need to grovel, he already had more than enough data on the; human female and would we please take her and go - preferably to the other end of the galaxy. Then, Pulaski reappeared on the bridge, dusting herself down, and I suddenly realised why Nagilam was now sporting a black eye.

For a moment, I toyed with leaving the self-destruct running. However, I soon realised it wouldn't be fair on the crew. No, what I should do is find a way of evacuating them all except Pulaski and then blow up the ship. So, with a heavy heart, I set course out of there.

Once we were clear of the void, I summoned Lt Worf to my Ready Room and gave him a severe reprimand about his unauthorised destruction of the Romulan Warbird. I pointed out that it was Starfleet policy to make peaceful contact with alien vessels if at all possible, and only to use force as a last resort; and besides which, if anybody's going to blow some of those pointy-eared, big-shouldered bastards away, it's damn well going to be me !

It's 2300 hours now. Pulaski's down in Ten Forward, telling anybody who'll listen how she personally saved the ship. She says she doesn't know what we did before she came aboard. I think we used to be happy, didn't we ?

Oh God, when are they going to make me an Admiral ? If I stay here much longer I'll go as mad as my old Uncle Henri, who fought in the Cardassian Wars, and now believes himself to be a disused space station in orbit over Bajor.

Spent the evening going through Starfleet Yellow Pages trying to find a good hired assassin. In the corridors on my way to bed, I found Data with his head severed. Somebody had strung a piano wire across the door of his quarters.

I knew I should've become a road sweeper.

The Secret Log of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Episode 6

Translated and transcribed from the original coded French by Tim Munro © 1989

THE STORY SO FAR: Doctor Beverly Crusher has eloped with the Head of Starfleet Medical, Doctor Romeo Shaggem. Her replacement, Doctor Kate Pulaski, is so appalling that Captain Picard has been forced to resort to desperate measures...

Stardate 42286.2

Another depressing day spent interviewing assassins. They were a sorry bunch - an alcoholic Klingon mercenary who drank everything liquid in the room, including the contents of Livingston's fish bowl, when I stepped out for a moment; a bizarre bearded character in a black suit who punctuated every sentence he uttered with the words "Heh-heh-heh" and spun me an improbable yarn about being able to dispose of Pulaski by shrinking her; and lastly Admiral Kirk, who told me he'd gone into the assassination business as he needs the money now he's been thrown out of the Starfleet Twilight Retirement Home for sexually harassing the nurses. Apparently he asked one of them to wear a mini-skirt, go-go boots and a tin bra!  Poor old sod still has the bruises! Well... as he said, how the hell was he supposed to know she was a Bajoran? They didn't have Bajorans in his day!

Anyway, I finally got so fed up that I gave up in disgust and went down to Ten-Forward to get rat-arsed. Didn't enjoy it though. Ten-Forward just isn't the same since Guinan had her nervous breakdown and was dragged off to the Federation funny farm. I can't say I'm too keen on her 'friend' who's minding the bar in her absence either. Not only is his grin decidedly manic, but the twenty-foot-long multi-coloured scarf he wears is most definitely not regulation attire. Also he seems to be downing more drinks than he actually serves! Still the little blonde bint who tags along with him is a bit of alright. Apparently they also have a robot of some kind, but I've not met that yet. I'm told it went off with Commander Data and hasn't been seen since.

Stardate 42286.3

What a bloody day! I'd just settled down with my copy of 'The joy of Pon-Farr' which I'd stolen from Doctor Selar's quarters, when Geordi and Data burst into my Ready room dressed as Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson, and started yelling that the Holodeck had malfunctioned and Doctor Pulaski was being held prisoner by a sentient Professor Moriarty who was threatening to kill her. I immediately summoned all senior officers to the Conference lounge, with instructions to bring balloons, streamers, party hats and illegal substances.

Unfortunately, before the merriment could commence, Moriarty somehow got control of the ship and started rocking it around, making everyone feel sea-sick, and I was forced to hold a proper staff meeting. Asked LaForge for possible solutions, and he said we could flood the Holodeck with a certain type of radiation which would wash away all the holographic constructs, but would also dismember Doctor Pulaski into thousands of tiny and rather bloody pieces smeared all over the holodeck walls. I said it sounded like an excellent solution and immediately took a show of hands which came out unanimously in favour of LaForge's idea. Unfortunately, at this point Lieutenant Worf rose to his feet with a roar not unlike that usually heard coming from Commander Riker's quarters on a Saturday night, and declared that if a hair on his "beloved"s head was harmed, he would personally resign his commission and, quote, "rip off all your bollocks and stamp on them in the traditional Klingon manner, sirs! ". Geordi said this wouldn't bother him much, as his bollocks hadn't seen action since Stardate 35421.6, but everyone else told him shut up as Worf was already flexing his fist in a very menacing manner.

Eventually, went down to the Holodeck to have a word with Moriarty myself. I needn't have bothered. By the time I got there, the poor bastard was tied up, in tears and sporting two black eyes, while Pulaski was dusting herself down. "Late as usual, hah baldy?" she said when she saw me. "Hell, it's a good job you've got me aboard to take care of things!"

Once she'd gone, I hugged Professor Moriarty, thanked him for trying, and wept, while he pleaded with me to put his program into limbo, or anywhere he'd be safe from psychotic female medicos with knuckledusters. I did as he asked, but with a heavy heart.

I wish to God I could have gone with him. Jammy sod!

Stardate 42312.4

There were the most bizarre noises coming form Data's quarters last night. A sort of... metallic grinding I feared for a moment that Pulaski had got at him with her oxy-acetylene torch again, but apparently she was in Ten-Forward all night, having a drinking contest with our new Barman. Hmmm... I wonder what old "Fully-Functional" is up to?

Stardate 42494.8

Oh... damn, damn and buggery bollocks! We so nearly got rid of the bitch today, then that brainless pranny O'Brien went and loused the whole thing up!

It all started at the Research Station on Gagarin IV, where Doctor Face? Ache picked up some bug and started ageing rapidly!! "YES!!" I thought. It was exactly like that story that Admiral Kirk tells! After just an hour the old bag looked about ninety! It was MARVELLOUS! I haven't laughed so much since Lwaxana came aboard while Q was here, and spent all day chasing him around the ship yelling "Take me, take me, you omnipotent love machine!".

Unfortunately, just as I was having the time of my life planning Pulaski's funeral (dancing girls, barbecue...), Worf pointed out that we could save the old bag with the Transporter. Data pointed out that for this to work we'd require Pulaski's genetic pattern, perhaps extracted from a strand of her hair. Worf said that was no problem, and immediately extracted such a strand from between his teeth!

Well, I tried to get out of it but Worf flexed his fist meaningfully at me, so I gave up and went down to Transporter Room 3. Here, Chief O'Brien explained that the procedure was very risky. "One slip, sir," he said "and Doctor Pulaski's molecules could be scattered between here and Kuomomoto". "Oh really?" I replied, and immediately dismissed him, pointing out firstly that in such a risky operation it was my duty to take full responsibility, and secondly... if anyone was going to disseminate the old baggage to the interstellar winds, it was damn well gonna be me!!

Unfortunately, just as I energised, and before I could hit the Molecular Scatter control, O'Brien burst in again yelling "Sir! Sir! Mrs Troi's here to see you!!", completely distracting me, so that by the time I realised it was a false alarm and had emerged from hiding and stopped whimpering, Pulaski was standing on the Transporter pad, sickeningly intact, and grinning at me. "Why, baldy," she cooed "anyone'd think you weren't pleased to see me". Ooooohhhh.... BITCH!!

Frog-marched O'Brien to my Ready Room and demanded to know what the fuck he'd thought he was doing, distracting me at such a crucial moment! He squirmed a bit ? then after I'd extracted my phaser rifle from his bottom, he explained: "I'm very sorry, Captain, but Lieutenant Worf said that if I let you do anything less than legitimate with Doctor Pulaski's molecules... well... he'd rip off my bollocks and stamp on them, sir".

In view of this explanation, I have decided to be lenient. Note in ship's log: from this Stardate, Transporter Chief Miles Edward O'Brien is demoted to the post of ship's toilet attendant, by order of the Captain.

Stardate 42560.8

That metallic grinding noise was coming from Data's quarters again last night! What the hell is it?!? Also, I can't help noticing that Data's been looking very smug lately. Well... smugger than usual anyway.

Stardate 42568.8

Another bummer of a day. We were supposed to be transporting Salia, the Dauphin of Daled IV, to her home world. Unfortunately, the minute she beamed aboard, Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher threw himself at her feet and proceeded to slobber then started WORKING HIS WAY UP!! Needless to say, Salia's guardian was not pleased by this, although I did think her reaction ? transforming herself into the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal and eating three of Worf's security team ? a mite excessive. Mind you, Commander Riker didn't take it too well either - in fact he burst into tears and ran from the room.

Spent the rest of the day desperately trying to keep Wesley and Salia part, which initially required the use of a crowbar. In the afternoon they both went missing and were eventually found on Holodeck 3. Wesley explained that he'd been showing Salia his rocks. Apparently he meant his Asteroid Belt program, but Salia's guardian took it completely the wrong way - not surprisingly, since Wesley was only clad in pink silk knickers at the time, and Salia was wearing Starfleet-issue boxer shorts ? and went berserk, changing herself into a Hydrakian Bllox Lizard, whereupon Salia transformed into a six-foot-tall green slime-dripping reptile with three heads and breath like a Cardassian's arm-pit. At this point, Ensign Crusher screamed and fainted.

Very relieved to get rid of our guests at Daled IV. You know, thinking about it I'm sure there was something odd about them.

Ensign Crusher recovered consciousness at 2100 hours. He has now spent the last seven locked in toilet cubical 9, screaming "Oh God!!" and being violently sick at regular intervals.

Stardate 42686.4

Diverted to Starbase Montgomery to pick up a guest. I arranged a full greeting party for him in Transporter room 3. When he beamed aboard, the bizarrest thing happened. Firstly Riker glared at him hatefully and snarled "What the fuck are you doing here, you sheep-shagging son of a bitch?", which I'm sure is a breach of Starfleet protocol. Then Pulaski suddenly went all gooey, threw herself at our visitor, buried her face in his crotch and cooed: "Kyle, Kyle, my only true love, you've come back to me". Whereupon our visitor whisked her up in his arms, swept her off into Sickbay and security-locked the doors. At this Lieutenant Worf burst into tears and proceeded to suck his thumb.

I asked Riker who our visitor was. He scowled and said he was "the most low-down bastard ever to pollute the fair name of Starfleet". Hmmm. I suspect they've met before.

It is now 2300 hours. Pulaski and our visitor have still not emerged from Sickbay and Worf's perpetual sobbing and wailing is getting right on my tits.

Stardate 426865

It turns out our visitor is Kyle Riker, Lard?arses's father. Of course, that explains everything! We saw him off at 2100 hours. Pulaski gave him the most disgustingly intimate farewell kiss it's ever been my misfortune to witness. She might at least have kissed him on the mouth!

Kyle and Wil seemed to have settled their differences, and all was normal by the time Kyle left. Wil head butted him in farewell, kneed him in the groin, told him never to darken the Enterprise's Transporter pad again, and called him "a girlstealing old fucker". Ah, father/son horseplay. There's nothing like it.  Reminds me of myself and dear Papa.

Once Kyle had gone, Pulaski noticed Worf glaring at her, and snapped "What're you looking at, tiny dick?". At this my entire senior staff collapsed into hysterics, while Counselor Troi led the chants "Worf's got a tiny willy, Worf's got a tiny willy!". Lieutenant Worf glowered and stomped out grumpily, saying he was going to kill something.

Stardate 42811.2

I finally encountered our new Barman's robot tonight. It was trundling out of Data's quarters, declaring that it "wasn't doing that for anyone!", and pursued by a stark naked Data clutching a tin of golden syrup! The robot looks a bit like a dog ? except it tail was bent for some reason. Ah well... it's an improvement on the light sockets I suppose.

I must say, the sight of Data starkers is quite a shock. Noonian Soong must've had no sense of scale. Now I know why Tasha always walked funny!

Stardate 42977.2

Oh great, another bloody marvellous day, I don't think!! I'd just settled down for a nice kip when Riker burst in yelling about mutiny. Apparently the crew had discovered that there wasn't a drop of alcohol left onboard,due to our new Barman having drunk the flamin' lot! I was furious to hear this - after all, how the hell am I supposed to cope with Pulaski without my medicinal six crates of Aldebaran whisky per day?!? Stormed down to Ten Forward, and had found our Barman stumbling around bumping into furniture and singing a song about Goblins. He then head-butted Commander Riker. I demanded to know what the bloody hell he thought he was playing at. At this he vomited down the front of my uniform and then asked what time the bar opened. Through clenched teeth, I informed him that the bar would not be opening at all, since thanks to him the only intoxicating liquor aboard was Trilithium Residue from the engines. He informed me he'd drunk that too, then said "Are you telling me, baldy, that there isn't a drop of booze in the entire ship?". I replied that this was so. "Right, fuck this for a game of 'Battle for the Universe'!" he slurred. "Romana!! Pack your bags, we're leaving. I'm not staying where there's no fucking booze!". And with that he and the bint and the robot trooped into that strange cupboard he'd bought with him, which promptly disappeared. So now we're without a barman.

Set course for Honest Quark's Off License, at Warp9.

Stardate 42999.9

Oh joyous day! Oh alleluia! YES, YES, YES!! Thank you GOD!!! Freedom and salvation is mine! Just when I was resigned to another ghastly day of Doctor Cardassian-Arse, I got a private sub-space communication, and there on the screen was... BEVERLY!! MY Beverly!! The darling light of my life!!

"Jean-Luc", she said, tears streaming down her face. "Jean-Luc, I want to come home".

I asked what Romeo thought about his. Beverly began to foam at the mouth. "Don't mention that name," she hissed, hacking up a nearby teddy bear with her surgical phaser. "Romeo Shaggem is a beast! monster! A two-timing son of a bitch! And he cuts his toe-nails in bed!"

I asked what had brought about this change of heart. Beverly gave a heart-rending wail, and broke down completely, sobbing that she'd caught him in bed with one of his medical students. I said I thought even she knew that Romeo would shag anything in a skirt. Beverly howled again, and said that this particular medical student wore trousers and was called Julian.

Oh, I see.

"Jean-Luc", she blubbed. "Please take me back. I've been a silly weak woman and don't know how I can ever make amends but please say you'll forgive me... Mr. Huge".

I told her we'd be there in twenty minutes, then summoned Worf to my Ready Room, where I told him that although this would cause him great distress, I had decided it was high-time Doctor Pulaski was fired.

Worf said: "Literally, sir?"

"Literally," I replied, and ordered him of strap Doctor Face-Ache to a photon torpedo and launch it at once, preferably in the direction of Romulus. Worf said it would be a pleasure, adding that Doctor Pulaski was an unfaithful spiteful hag who had written "Worf Comes Too Soon" on the walls of the ladies toilets.

Doctor Pulaski departed the ship at 1300 hours, Worf having led her to believe that being strapped to a photon torpedo was a Klingon form of foreplay and the origin of the phrase "Having a bang".

Beverly beamed aboard at 2100 hours. My God she's put on weight! Her beer belly's worse than Riker's, even though she's trying to disguise it with an outsize lab coat! Troi's eyes almost popped out of her head when she saw her. Then she started giggling for some reason. As did everyone else. Can't think why. Told Beverly we'd arranged a party in TenForward for her. She asked if there'd be any blancmange and ketchup sandwiches as she had a strange craving for these at present. "I expect it's the stress", she said, Troi roared with laughter at this, and had to bury her face in Riker's gut to compose herself. Funny woman.

So now we're off to Ten-Forward to get pissed. Ah... happy days are here again, the skies above are clear again...

Stardate 43001.1

Oh Christ... owch... offff... ooohh... what was I drinking last night? What time is it? Oh shit, 7:30 a.m. Beverly, are you...? What's that noise? Beverly, are you alright? It sounds like you're being sick.

Oh. You are. Well if you will sit there all evening sucking a lump of coal. Shit, my log's recording. How long has that been on?

Stardate 43002.1

I think that Romeo experience had a worse effect on Beverly than I thought. I found her knitting booties on the bridge today. She said they're for a cousin of hers. The whole bridge crew burst out laughing at that. I don't know what's the matter with them lately, everybody seems to be sniggering behind my back.

And I'm pretty certain Beverly doesn't have any cousins.

Stardate 43003.1

I think Q is going potty. He turned up today dressed as some bizarre Twentieth Century actor called Pertwat or something, dumped a pram in the middle of the bridge, said it was a present, winked at Beverly, then flashed off!

What the hell do we need a pram for?

Stardate 43003.9

Weirdest thing. Troi has just stuck her head round the Ready Room door and screamed something about Beverly going into Labour. Ridiculous of course. I know for a fact that Beverly always votes Liberal Democrat.

I must say, these pills Guinan sent me from the Federation funny farm are terrific. I've just seen a pink Mugatu float past my window.

Ooooooohhhh... everything's coming up roses!!!! Lucky old Rose.