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.