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


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.