Captain Bob Drone thought
the days of burning were over. Not since the days of the first Enterprise,
had he heard of a cache of fanfic being discovered. You see, Bob
Drone was a fireman. His job was to burn any work that infringed
on the lifestyles of people in the 24th century. "Trek Fanfic", it
was called. Denser than most literature, it needed an extra degree
to reach combustion. Bob Drone had never actually *read* any fanfic;
he just torched it. Leave the reading to the lawyers.
And now, archeologist
and famous starship captain Jean-Luc Picard had reported newly discovered
droves of the stuff, squirreled away under the historic site of the first
Lunar settlement. Bob Drone knew his job. He and his
blow torched hit warp eight, heading for Earth's moon.
"You *know* it's harmful."
Beverly Crusher spoke to her old friend in the "Blue Cheese", a Lunar bar.
"It could start wars. And who *knows* what it could do to the space-time
continuum!"
"I know." Picard
nodded sadly. "But if you only saw-"
"You *looked* at it?"
"I had to, to determine
what it was!"
"Jean-Luc, you could
get into a *lot* of trouble!"
"D'you think I don't
know that? I've been in far worse spots that this." He shifted
in his seat, glancing around. "To tell the truth, I don't give a
damn about those out-dated rules! This is a part of history, and
it should be preserved!"
Bob Drone approached
the table. "Sir, it is a well-known fact that fanfic is dangerous.
People who read it become irrational and unbelievably dramatic. Some
even decide to write their own, and become unreasonably paranoid.
This terrible plague on humanity must be abolished!"
Picard looked up at
the fireman, and slowly stood. "You listen here." he said quietly.
"Unless you can convince me you know what you're talking about, I will
refuse to tell you where I've hidden the cache."
"Jean-Luc!" Bevery
gasped.
"No, it's all right."
Bob Drone assured her. "Obviously, he's been exposed."
"I'll expose *you*,
ya bloody buggerer!" Picard spat, then straightened up and adjusted
his uniform. "Sorry. It's just that...If you would just read
*one* story, I think you would see why we should *treasure* these archives."
"You have an *archive*?!"
Bob Drone startled.
"Not an actual archive,
no. I just was referring the cache as a collection. This is
a unique view into the hearts and minds of our ancestors; their hopes,
their dreams! We can't just...*burn* it!"
Bob Drone recognized
the infection when he saw it. He also recognized an impasse.
"One. A *short* one. And don't make it a parody." Bob
Drone had a slightly rebellious streak, and a weakness for parodies.
It isn't known which
work of fanfic Jean-Luc Picard chose; whether it be an infamous Bjorkland,
or Pugh, or Rogers, or even one of those detestable Francis flights of
fancy; but Bob Drone came away from the experience and altered man.
As he re-entered the "Blue Cheese", tears streamed down his face.
"Oh, the beauty!" he wept. "Oh, the *drama*!"
Picard looked around,
slightly embarrassed. "Pull yourself together, man!" he hissed.
"What we need now, is a *plan*!"
Bob Drone racked his
tiny brain. "I know what I *have* to do! I must burn it all.
But first," he hastily added, "I will find volunteers to read and
commit to memory *every* *precious* *word*! We *will* preserve this
wonderful message from our ancestors. We *will* reclaim our heritage!"
"Bravo, man!"
Picard smiled.
"There's a *reason*
the Klingon word for volunteer, is Sap." Beverly groused.
"I go now." Bob
Drone droned. "I go to improve our future, by saving our past."
And with that, he left the bar; quite forgetting that Picard still had
the bulk of the fanfic.
"He'll be back,"
Picard stated confidently, sitting down. "faster than a Viacom lawyer
can say *lawsuit*!"
Beverly Crusher eyed
her old friend. "You're beginning to sound paranoid, Jean-Luc."
He shrugged. "Comes
with the territory. Especially after reading all that "slash" fiction."
"Slash?" she raised
one eyebrow.
Picard cleared his throat.
"It's nothing. All very harmless. Except, of course, for the
Picard-slash-Riker stuff. I've already *burned* that."
THE END