Useless Ideas 41-50
Useless Idea #41: War Without End, Part 3
During the Babylon 4 adventure, Sheridan finds himself cast adrift in time, thrust twenty years into the future. Just when he thinks he's finally heading back to his proper time, something goes wrong, and he's hurled even farther into the future...
He suddenly finds himself in a sterile white room. A door opens, and a man in white approaches him. "Well, you must be John Sheridan."
"What...what year am I in now?"
"2492."
"You mean, this is--"
"Yup. The twenty-fifth century." The man holds out a hand. "I'm Buck Rogers, by the way. Welcome to New Chicago."
A small silver droid waddles into the room. "Bee-dah, bee-dah, bee-dah. What's shakin', John?"
"And this is Twiki," Buck says. "We were just going to head over to the disco, if you wanted to--"
"Disco?" Sheridan slaps his forehead. "Good lord, what kind of hellish future is this?"
Just then, a woman in a metallic gold bikini slinks into the room. "Who's your new friend, Buck?"
"Ardala, meet John Sheridan."
"Well, well, well," Ardala purrs. "What is it about you men from the past that's so attractive?"
"HEL-lo!" Sheridan says. "Then again, maybe the future isn't too bad after all."
He throws an arm around Ardala as they leave the room. "You know, I helped save the galaxy..."
UI #42: The Holy Man
Londo and Vir, as well as every other Centauri on the station, are in a somber mood.
"What's going on?" Sheridan asks Londo.
"Soon, our great spiritual leader will arrive. The Eternal One. The one who paved the way for us all."
Londo touches his huge head of hair reverently.
Sure enough, a shuttle soon arrives at the docking bay. Londo, Vir and Sheridan greet it.
The hatch opens, and out bounds a man in dark trousers and tan plaid shirt, the front of his hair slicked up into a huge cowlick.
"Hail to thee, Ed Grimley," Londo and Vir chant. They do a quirky little dance, which Grimley returns.
"And a good mornin' to you," Grimley says. He looks around. "Quite a nice station you've got here, I must say." He flashes a grimace-like grin.
"Thank you," Sheridan says. "Would you like a tour?"
"Oh, could we?" Grimley does his dance. "That'd be most decent of you, I must say."
"No problem. But somehow, when Londo mentioned a spiritual leader, I was thinking something along the lines of Lorien."
"Lorien? Now there was a nice fella. You know, if it hadn't been for him putting his little magic whammy on Pat Sajak, Sajak would never have survived to do two hundred years' of 'Wheel of Fortune'." Grimley grins. "And wouldn't we have been the lesser for it?"
"Two hundred years?" Sheridan splutters. "He only gave me twenty!"
"Well," Grimley says, "some people's missions in life are more important than others..."
He glances at a watch, and turns to Londo and Vir. "Ooh! It's just about time for 'Wheel 2262 Starring Robo-Sajak'! Have you got a monitor we can use?"
Londo nods, and he, Vir and Grimley go dancing off together.
Sheridan shakes his head. "Two hundred years...?"
UI #43: Banzai!
Sheridan and the others are on the Zocalo, on an inspection tour of the station. Suddenly, there's a bright flash of light, and an ancient--and modified--Earth truck appears and rolls to a halt. A man jumps out and confronts them. A strip of packaging bubbles is stretched across his face, with eyeholes cut into it.
"You!" he points at Sheridan. "I told you you couldn't hide forever!"
"Buckaroo Banzai?!" Sheridan exclaims.
"What's going on?" Delenn demands. "What's your business here?"
"He is." Buckaroo indicates Sheridan. "He's evil--pure and simple from the eighth dimension! You thought you could hide from me, didn't you, John Sheridan? But I caught you, just like I caught your buddies: John Yaya, John Smallberries, John Bigbootie--"
"BigbooTAY! TAY!" Sheridan shouts. "Why didn't anyone ever get it right?"
Sheridan starts to run, but Garibaldi lays him out with one punch. He tips a salute to Buckaroo. "Blue Blazer Michael Garibaldi reporting for duty, sir!"
"Good work!" Buckaroo dumps Sheridan into his truck.
"Great," Delenn moans. "What are we supposed to do for a leader now?"
"I suppose I could stick around and take care of that," Buckaroo says.
"What are your qualifications?"
"Brain surgeon, physicist, rock musician...all-around hero."
Delenn's eyebrows shoot up. "Wow! You're hired! Welcome aboard...
UI #44: A Christmas Story
It's the early days of the station's existence, and G'kar is experiencing the human holiday Christmas for the first time. But his pleas for a Christmas gift are scorned, ridiculed. Everyone--Sinclair, Delenn, Garibaldi, everyone--keeps telling him the same thing.
Then G'kar sees his chance. Santa has set up shop on the Zocalo!
G'kar sits on Santa's lap.
"And have you been a good little Narn?" Santa asks.
"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," G'kar sniffs.
"I...see. And what would you like for Christmas?"
G'kar brightens. "I want a Red Rider bb gun!"
Santa stares at him a moment, raises an eyebrow. "You'll shoot your eye out..."
"Not you, too," G'kar growls.
After he's disemboweled St. Nick, G'kar heads home. At the door to his quarters, he bumps into Londo, who hands him a package.
"In the spirit of giving, a peace offering," Londo says.
G'kar opens the package and squeals with delight. "A Red Rider bb gun!"
He rushes into his quarters. Londo starts to walk away, then hears a loud *POP!*, followed by a scream. G'kar comes staggering out, a hand clapped over his eye.
"I'll get you for this, Centauri! Even if it takes twenty years, I'll make you pay!"
Later on, Londo has a strangely prophetic dream...
UI #45: Kosh's Exposure
To avoid a Centauri terrorist's bomb, Sheridan has leaped out of a rail-car, and is plummeting toward the station gardens and certain death. Kosh sheds his encounter suit and floats up to catch him. Everyone is filled with awe at the sight of this angelic being, a different sight for each person.
Later, someone comes up to Londo, who's grown annoyed with all the reverent talk. "What did you see, Londo?"
Londo grabs the man by the shirt and shakes him violently. "He's a chicken, I tell you! A giant chicken!"
"Nonsense!"
"I'll prove it!" Londo scatters some seed on the ground in front of Kosh. Kosh bends over, smacking the face of his encounter suit on the ground. The suit falls to pieces around him, and his aura of light flickers away to reveal...
"My God!" someone shouts. "He really is a chicken!"
"GET HIM!"
Chicken Boo flees the station amidst a hail of ppg blasts...
UI #46: What If "Z'ha'dum" Had Been The Series Finale?
Anna Sheridan slowly approaches her husband John, who's trapped on the balcony overlooking a huge pit. The Shadows skitter along behind her, as she tries to seduce John to the side of evil.
Suddenly, John jumps! There's a crash overhead as the White Star bursts through the skylight. The ship explodes, Anna screams as the flash consumes her...
And then, in a darkened, rustic room, a little girl in pony-tails and nightshirt wakes up screaming. "PAAAA!!!!"
She runs into her parents' room, hugs her father.
"What's wrong, Laura?" her father asks.
"I had the worst dream, Pa!" the girl says. "I was all grown up, and my name was Anna, and there were these lizard men, and other men with big, weird hair, and people with bony heads and giant bug-things, and I was married, and I was evil, Pa! I was EVIL!"
"Hoo, boy." Pa Ingalls pats her on the head. "I've gotta start hiding my whiskey better."
UI #47: The Last Episode
Twenty years in the future, the Drakh fleet is swarming around the station, engaged in a titanic battle with Sheridan's forces.
In C&C, Delenn watches the conflict, as the station shudders with every impact. "We're not going to make it, are we?"
Sheridan looks to Lennier, who shakes his head.
"Corwin," Sheridan says, "give me a--" He breaks off as he sees Corwin's station is now empty.
Down in the engineering section, Corwin muscles his way past the engineers and into the reactor room.
"What the hell is he doing?! The radiation..." and engineer says.
Moments later, up on the bridge, displays start going wild.
"Captain!" someone shouts. "The reactor core is OFF-line! Weapons are going down, life support, everything! The core's going critical!"
A message comes over the intercom, from engineering. "Captain, you'd better get down here. Better...hurry..."
Sheridan races down to engineering, to find Corwin in the reactor chamber. "Corwin!"
Corwin walks over, bumps into the glass. "Ship...out of danger?"
"No, you idiot!" Sheridan shouts over the rising noise of the reactor meltdown. "This isn't a ship--it's a station! What did you think, that we could *outrun* them? Thanks to your tampering with the reactor, you've doomed us all! How could I have let such a moron on my--"
"Oh, I get it!" Corwin interrupts. "So Mr. hig-and-mighty John Sheridan is the only one who can make the noble sacrifices, eh? Or maybe that goofball Marcus? Well, it's CORWIN'S turn now! Now *I'M* going to be a fan favorite! And you can just kiss my--"
*BOOM!*
UI #48: The Origin Story
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, there lived a race known as the Jawas. These were tiny creatures, hidden away in their cowls, who abducted helpless droids and tinkered with them for their own purposes.
As the ages passed, the Jawas evolved and eventually left theirown galaxy behind. They journeyed to another galaxy and no longer hid themselves behind cowls. Now they hid themselves in encounter suits and called themselves Vorlons.
But this new galaxy was already inhabited by other creatures calling themselves the First Ones. They tolerated the Vorlon's presence but ever after sneered upon them, disgusted by even the mention of Vorlons, since they were not *true* First Ones. And now the Vorlons did not tinker with droids, but with lesser beings--abducting them from their homes and tampering with them to serve their own ends.
So the Vorlons came to be. And after the Shadow War, when they left the galaxy with Lorien and the others, the telepath they'd tinkered with, Lyta, collapsed, her head exploding due to a "bad motivator". The Vorlons still did shoddy work, you see.
And as the First Ones left the galaxy, they were confronted by another force, a force that had come from the same galaxy that spawned the Jawas. This force was comprised of wizened little creatures with long ears, a race that had once counted Yoda among its members.
The leader of the race addressed the First Ones. "Hm. The First Ones, you be, yes? Claiming to be so wise and all-knowing--when knowing, everyone is, that WE are best suited for that!" The creature cracked its knuckles. "Yes, yes, a serious ass-kicking we must be giving you, now...
UI #49: How The Vorlon Stole Christmas
On a mountaintop cold there lived a Vorlon,
who was older and colder and mean.
He went everywhere in an encounter suit
that was black and brown and green.
He lived above a village called Whoville,
whose residents he'd grown to hate.
He'd tried to forget them, put them out of his mind,
but a Vorlon's memory is great.
Indeed, today he could see them down there,
all scampering about as they played.
For tomorrow was Christmas, which was indeed
their very favorite day.
The Vorlon could see Who number four,
with his longcoat and his scarf,
and next to him Who number six,
whose outfit made the Vorlon barf.
Yes, all eight Whos were out there,
along with K-9, Leela and Ace,
and all the other Companions, too,
were prancing 'round the place.
And they were not alone, no sir!
For there was Sheridan, Delenn and Lennier!
The Drazi and the Markab,
even little Vir!
"Oooh, how I hate them," the Vorlon snarled,
"as they eat their spoo and their flarn,
prancing about like a bunch of fools--
even the Centauri and Narn!
"The Shadows must have touched them all,
this situation must be corrected.
For chaos is evil and order is good,
and must at all costs be protected."
And the Vorlon, he planned, and the Vorlon, he schemed,
and eventually came up with a plot;
and since he had nothing better to do,
he decided to give it a shot.
And when nightfall came, he stole into town,
and stole from each house its Christmas joy.
He took all of the trees, he took all of the food,
he even took all of the toys!
And when he'd robbed the last house blind,
and was taking a final gander,
he heard a sound and spun around--
and there was little Lyta Alexander!
He watched her for a time, quite carefully,
to see what she might try.
She watched him right back, and then she said,
"Why, Santa, why?"
The Vorlon thought a moment,
and then it came to pass,
he scooped her up and boosted her powers,
so now she could kick some *serious* ass!
Then Lyta watched him in stark fear,
uncertain what might await her.
And he knocked her out, threw her in his bag
(since she might be of use to him, later).
And then the Vorlon flew back home,
cackling all the while.
He'd pulled it off! And better yet,
he'd done it with such *style*!
Then the Vorlon turned around and looked
upon the town below,
its streets and roofs all covered with
the white, new-fallen snow.
"Who are you?" he asked, and then he laughed
with vicious Vorlon glee.
"Who gives a damn? I've got your stuff!
It all belongs to me!"
He threw the booty in his ship,
and headed into space.
And pushed a button to send a message
off to the Vorlon race.
And as dawn came, the folk of Whoville woke,
and not a one was tardy.
For though their stuff was missing, gone--
it was still Christmas, and time to party!
And party they did, until a shadow fell
across the little town.
They all looked up and gasped with fear--
a Vorlon planet-killer was bearing down!
The people screamed, the people ran,
but no one escaped the big zap.
Even their houses didn't withstand it for long,
because if it's not Scottish, it's CRAP!
So Sheridan, the Whos and all of their friends
died in the fiery flash,
their lives cut short, their bodies destroyed,
their homes all burned into ash.
Now, the moral of the story
is don't have too much fun.
And never piss off a Vorlon,
even *if* you are "The One"...
UI #50: What REALLY Happened To Marcus
The Shadow War has recently ended, and things on the station are calm for a change. Marcus returns to his quarters one day to find a strange man emerging from one of the darkened rooms. The man stands in the shadowy doorway.
"Who are you?" Marcus snaps warningly. "What are you doing here?"
"Relax," the man says. "You've got nothing to fear from old Centauri."
"You don't look like any Centauri *I've* ever seen."
The man smiles. "You know, I get that a lot around these parts..."
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to make you a proposal," Centauri says. "I've been keeping an eye on you, Marcus, on your performance. And I must say, I'm impressed. Centauri's seen 'em come and seen 'em go, but you're the best, my boy, the best! Dazzling! Light-years ahead of the competition."
"Thanks, but that still doesn't explain--"
"Just getting to that." Centauri smiles at Marcus. "How would you like to fight a desperate battle against incredible odds?"
Marcus ponders it. "It has been kind of slow around here, lately..." He shrugs. "Why not? How long will it take?"
"I'll be able to bring you back in about a year or so, give or take a few months."
"Sounds good."
"Great! Oh, say hello to my assistant, Beta."
A hand reaches out of the shadows and Marcus shakes it, crying out at the shock he gets.
"Come along, then," Centauri says, leading Marcus away. "My car's parked in the docking bays."
"What about Beta?" Marcus says. "You're just going to leave him here?"
"Of course," Centauri answers. "That's why he's here. He's a top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art Beta Unit, put here as a courtesy replacement for while you're away."
"Hey!" Beta calls out to them as they leave. "While he's gone, can I boff Ivanova?"
The Rabid Bantha Bar and Grille
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