Don Trek The Black Whole
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Don Trek: The One With The Snails free porn video
Act One
‘Report Ensign Pam, anything strange on the communication channels,’ asked Capt. Don as he spun in his captainy chair located on the center of the bridge of the USS Bonneville.
Lt. Pam listened for a while hoping desperately to hear something of note to report back to her captain, but alas there was nothing to report, nothing at all.
‘Capt. Don, I’m not picking up anything, anything at all, there is complete and total silence,’ reported Ensign Pam.
Lt. Solok was the USS Bonneville’s science officer, only the second Vulcan to ever join Starfleet, he had been in the fleet for many years and never rose in rank above lieutenant. He was Vulcan and Vulcans just didn’t care about rank. He looked into his viewfinder and analyzed the subspace signatures flowing around the Bonneville. Ensign Pam was right, there was no communication, not here, not anywhere.
‘Capt. Don, I have analyzed space and have come to the conclusion that there is no communication of any type at all,’ Lt. Solok rested his hands in a triangular manner in front of him as he reported this observation.
‘That’s impossible Lt. Solok,’ Capt. Don responded, ‘that just can’t happen. There’s always some kind of chatter flying through subspace. Right Ensign Pam?’
She answered, ‘yes, but not today Capt. Don, there’s nothing. I’ve not even heard the normal chatter and debates about Doctor House really being a grown up Doogie Howser!’
‘Impossible!’ barked Capt. Don, ‘I can’t believe that Doogie would ever abandon Vinnie for Wilson, they were tight.’
‘While it may be not be possible for Vinnie and Doogie’s friendship to ever be broken it is possible for there to be no communications. I can verify that sir,’ commented Lt. Solok.
‘Look into this,’ Capt. Don ordered, ‘we must find out why we can’t hear or see anything on subspace. There’s no way I’m going to miss this week’s episode of Hell’s Kitchen: Starfleet.’
Meanwhile on the ship’s bowling ally Cmdr. Mike was hitting on the ship’s new android officer Lt. Camcorder.
‘I noticed that you’re pretty good with a bowling ball Lt. Camcorder, are you good with something smaller?’
‘Cmdr. Mike, I am skilled with many types of balls, of all sizes, I am as proficient in New England style candle stick bowling as well as many virtual bowling games, and games that require oblong balls.’
‘That’s not really what I was talking about,’ admitted Cmdr. Mike, ‘I was talking about…’
Lt. Camcorder interrupted Cmdr Mike, ‘While I am capable of handling anything in the most delicate manner I am also an android and could miscalculate my grip and accidentally crush any ball of any size with my super strength.’
Cmdr. Mike swallowed hard and uncomfortably. Thankfully, for him, the red alert sirens started to blare!
Meanwhile on the bridge of the USS Bonneville the reason for the loss of all subspace communication had been discovered!
‘So what you’re saying is that you can trace the loss of all communications to one source Lt. Solok?’
‘Yes Capt. Don, I have proven that one ship, one small ship, in Earth orbit, is to be blamed,’ Lt. Solok pushed a button and a display appeared on the custom Acer view screen, now standard on all Federation starships. ‘Their signal is so small and weak that we can not hear what they are saying and we must go to Earth.’
‘Then that settles it,’ said Capt. Don, ‘set a course to Earth!’
Cmdr. Mike entered the bridge as Capt. Don gave the order and Lt. Camcorder followed.
‘What’s this, we’re going back to Earth?’ asked Cmdr. Mike.
‘Yes, Lt. Solok knows that the source of the end of subspace communication is coming from Earth,’ answered Capt. Don, ‘once we get there we will know what it is and we can blow it up or something.’
‘All communications ended?’ asked Cmdr. Mike, ‘even the Doogie Howser is House debates?’
Capt. Don sighed, ‘yes, even that. Mr. Bourbon, can you give be maximum warp?’
‘Aye sir,’ answered the Tennessean-Scotch engineer, ‘we can make it home faster than road kill in a kilt!’
Act Two
‘Captain’s log 9409.18: We are almost home, almost to Earth. The closer we get the stronger the one signal we can pick up gets but it’s still too small to make out. We should arrive any time now, and we’re a little scared at what we might find. A source so powerful that it stops all subspace communications could wipe out all life on Earth.’ ~Capt. Don
‘We are entering Earth orbit Capt. Don,’ reported Ensign Tommy.
‘Is there anything there?’
‘There is nothing operational in orbit, all satellites are dead, and even though I can pick up life signs on Starbase One it is emitting no other signal,’ answered Lt. Solok.
‘Clearly some great power came and just broke all our crap,’ offered Cmdr. Mike.
‘How does that explain the remaining signal,’ countered Solok.
‘It’s residual signalage,’ proclaimed Cmdr. Mike, ‘that explains it all.’
‘Capt. Don, your first officer is wrong,’ declared Lt. Solok.
‘Exactly how is that Lt. Solok?’
The Vulcan answered, ‘because I have discovered the source and here it is on the screen.’
‘Where?’ asked Capt. Don.
‘Right in the middle,’ replied the Vulcan.
‘But we can’t see anything,’ complained Cmdr. Mike.
‘That is because it is really small,’ Lt. Solok hit a few buttons on his control panel and magnified the screen to its maximum potential.
‘That’s the ship,’ asked Capt. Don, ‘that small ship is the source of the problem?’
‘Yes,’ answered Solok, ‘that small ship.’
‘Can you magnify it so we can get a better look?’ asked Cmdr. Mike.
‘It is at full magnification,’ replied Solok, ‘that ship is thousands of times smaller than it appears.’
‘What do they want Lt. Solok?’ asked Capt. Don.
‘I do not know,’ offered Solok, ‘their transmission is so quiet we can not make it out.’
Ensign Pam then asked, ‘if they are so powerful that they can stop all communication then why are they not powerful enough to send a message we can hear?’
‘Because they are using their power to stop us from communicating,’ said Solok, and he continued, ‘we must find out what they want or they may ruin our subspace network forever.’
‘I think I might have a solution,’ offer Lt. Camcorder, ‘I might be able to construct a tiny communications array and hook it up to my neural net in order to receive their signal, then my awesometronic brain could decipher the message and I could replay it.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Capt. Don, ‘do that! I mean you can do that?’
The android smiled and said, ‘my name is Camcorder after all.’
Lt. Camcorder went into her work shop and spend a few hours working on an mini communications array, when she was done she connected it to her forehead and tried to receive the communication.
‘I am getting the message,’ she inform the bridge crew of the USS Bonneville.
‘Yes,’ responded Capt. Don, ‘go on.’
Lt. Camcorder’s lips moved but it was not her voice and it said:
‘We are the Snailkind, we are of planet Earth but not from planet Earth. We were once many on Earth and we set out to explore the galaxy. We left our less developed cousins behind to inhabit the Earth so that one day we could return and see how they developed. Oh no! There are none, they are gone! Maybe they are there, there’s to much noise! Stop all the noise! We must have silence so that we may hear the noise of our Snailkind cousins! Stop all the noise!’
‘Oh no,’ commented Capt. Don, ‘why aren’t the snails making the noise so that they can hear them?’
Lt. Solok offered the only solution, ‘because Capt. Don, they are extinct. If we can’t find a solution then they could stop all subspace, radio, and any other electronic communication forever.’
‘Hold on!’ shouted Cmdr. Mike. ‘You’re telling me if we can’t find a way to answ
er them then there may never be an answer to the Dr. House/Dr. Howser question, we wont know the end of Real Starfleet Housewives, or be able to white knight on subspace in order to defend out favorite stars when someone says she has sharp knees?’
‘Yes,’ answered Lt. Solok, ‘it will be the end to communication as we know it. We will have to deliver letters via post office or even communicate face to face.’
‘No, that, can’t, be,’ stammered Capt. Don, ‘ we must go back in time and get us some snail! Set coordinates for Earth, year 1994. We are going to have to slingshot around the sun and go back in time!’
Act Three
‘Report, is everyone functioning within operating parameters? Is every one okay,’ asked Lt. Camcorder.
‘I am fine lieutenant,’ responded Lt. Solok, ‘the humans will wake up within a few minutes.’
‘They are a week species,’ offered Lt. Camcorder, ‘it is amazing how they can survive in space.’
‘We do it because we want to see what’s out there,’ Capt. Don said pointing off into space, ‘but also to stop whatever those little creatures are that stopped our communications.’
‘Capt. Don,’ reported Ensign Pam, ‘we have communications, but they don’t fit our time.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘There’s no Doogie Howser / House M.D. Chatter. It seems we are in 1994, a period of time between the end of the Doogie Howser run and the start of the House show,’ answered Ensign Pam.
‘I am doing a scan for snail life right now Capt. Don,’ offered Lt. Solok, ‘and I think the best place to find our specimen will be at the Snailological Institute of Morganton, North Carolina.’
‘Capt. Don, that’s in the American South,’ reported Cmdr. Mike, ‘isn’t racism prevalent in this period?’
‘Yes it’s prevalent Mike,’ agreed Capt. Don, ‘but not so overt, we will have to wear white hoods on our heads to blend in and Lt. Solok will have to use a separate transporter due to his black skin.’
‘I have done some research Capt. Don, and I do believe you are a few decades off.’ Lt. Solok then continued, ‘while I will be ‘alright’ with staying on the ship, it is my pointed ears and other Vulcan characteristics that would make me stand out more than the color of my skin. I so not believe that the people of the American South at this time were a very logical peoples, I would stand out.’
‘There’s one other thing Capt. Don,’ reported Mr. Bourbon in his Tennessean-Scottish accent, ‘all of our dilithium crystals are melted from the time travel.’
‘How are we going to replace those in 1994?’ Capt. Don wondered aloud.
‘Sir, it’s simple,’ offered Mr. Bourbon, ‘we get as much readily available lithium crystals and we dye ’em.’
‘Bourbon, that’s brilliant! I’ll go down with Ensign Tommy to the snail institute to get a few snails, you go with Cmdr. Mike to Wal-Mart and buy as many rechargeable batteries as you can to harvest the lithium crystals from them. Ensign Pam and Lt. Tim will go to an arts and craft store to buy some dye for the crystals.’
Lt. Pam then asked, ‘why don’t they get the dye from Wal-Mart where they always have the lowest prices?’
‘Because getting too much from one place could change the time-line,’ educated Lt. Solok.
‘Captain’s log stardate 1994: Three landing parties have beamed down to 20th century Earth to recover at least two snails, male and female, some lithium crystals, and some dye. We have dressed in appropriate attire for the time. We all have confederate flag shirts on and Ensign Pam is in daisy-duke shorts.’
Capt. Don and Ensign Tommy walked to the front door of the Snailological Institute and due to their proper period clothing were welcomed in without question.
‘I’m Dr. Don, of the Snailological Institute of Lenoir, NC, and I need some male and females snails for a mating experiment.’
‘Oh, Dr. Don, it’s nice to meet you, I am Dr. Melanie and I’m the resident snailologist here.’
Then Capt. Don’s Communicator chirped. He ignored it.
‘Dr. Don, you cell phone is ringing aren’t you going to answer it,’ asked Dr. Melanie, ‘it could be someone important.’
‘Yes,’ answered Capt. Don, ‘my assistant Dr. Tommy can get it. Can we look at some snails?’
Ensign Tommy answered his communicator and Dr. Melanie noticed it and thought it strange. Both her and Capt. Don went back to look at the snails.
‘Yes these two should be fine,’ exclaimed Capt. Don as he held a male and female snail in his hand.
‘You’re not from the Snailological Institute of Lenoir are you?’
‘Sure we are,’ retorted Capt. Don.
‘No,’ replied Dr. Melanie, ‘there’s no institute in Lenoir. Also your cell phone is too advanced for this time, you’re from the future, you’re from outer-space.’
‘You caught us,’ admitted Capt. Don, ‘we are from the future. Sometime in the next 20 years mankind will discover most electronics will only need a single button, and then we will learn the magic number is more like three or four buttons, at least for small devices. Oh, and I’m not from space, I just work there, I’m from St. Louis.’
Ensign Tommy then interrupted, ‘every one else has finished their mission, there’s just one problem.’
‘And that is,’ asked Capt. Don.
‘Lt. Tim was shot,’ reported Ensign Tommy, ‘he’s back home and in sickbay.’
‘Dr. Melanie, we need to go, one of my men is hurt and the future of mankind is in trouble,’ Capt. Don pleaded, ‘I need these snails.’
‘Here take those and these two as well,’ offered Dr. Melanie, ‘good luck Dr. Don.’
Right as they beamed up to the ship Dr. Melanie grabbed onto Capt. Don and beamed up to the USS Bonneville with them.
Act Four
‘What have you done!’ yelled Capt. Don, ‘you might have changed the course of time! We could all cease to exist!’
‘You need me in the future,’ pleaded Dr. Melanie, ‘you need a snail expert!’
‘She is correct Capt. Don,’ offered Lt. Solok, ‘and I have done some research, she will die in a tragic snail habitat accident in three days. Bringing her back to the future with us will not change the time-line.
‘Fine then, what about Lt. Tim?’
‘Dr. Good Doctor did all she could,’ said Cmdr. Mike, ‘but he’s dead.’
‘That sucks,’ sighed Capt. Don, ‘I guess we are sort a lieutenant then. Ensign Pam, you’re now Lt. Pam. Ensign Tommy, set a course for Earth, stardate 9409.18 and ½. We have a world to save.’
‘I have formulated a plan,’ reported Lt. Solok, ‘since Lt. Camcorder and I are not weak humans we will not pass out from the time travel. The moment we reach the correct time we will beam the snails down to the planet and then tell the Snailkind ship what we have done.’
‘Yes, and hopefully they will open up our communications again and I can watch Hell’s Kitchen: Starfleet tonight,’ sighed Capt. Don.
At Capt. Don’s order the USS Bonneville fired off around the sun and back to the future. Just as expected all of the humans passed out and the only two able to carry out the mission were Lt. Solok and Camcorder.
‘Prepare to beam down the snails,’ ordered Lt. Solok.
‘I’m beaming down the snails,’ confirmed Lt. Camcorder, ‘and starting the communication with the Snailkind vessel.’
‘What’s going on?’ asked Capt. Don.
‘We are carrying out the mission,’ answered Lt. Solok.
‘Is it working?’ asked Capt. Don.
‘They have received a response from the snails and are sending this message out via subspace,’ replied Lt. Camcorder.
‘We are Snailkind and we know what you have done to right your wrongs. The snails that you have driven into extinction are back and we know what you have done to rescue them. We will reopen your communication channels so that you may resume the connection with your kind and those like you. Farewell!’
‘Well, that was a close one,’ offered Capt. Don, ‘now let’s get back on course! Maximum warp!’
‘Sir, maybe we better get some more reliable di
lithiam crystals?’ asked Mr. Burbon.
‘Yes,’ agreed Capt. Don, ‘then onward and out!’
Space, the endless parking lot, these are the voyages of the Starship USS Bonneville, on various missions to seek out new life and new civilizations, to go, somewhat boldly, where no man has gone before!
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