PICARD VOICEOVER: “The Enterprise is on a routine mission to the Planet of the Clangers which is a planetoid sparsely populated by humanoid type life forms. Starfleet's wish is to welcome the peace loving and gentle Clangers into the Federation and offer them a lucrative contract for them to supply chicken soup to passing ships. Perhaps in time we will establish a permanent cultural mission on the planet. Obviously in these early tentative approaches tact and diplomacy are paramount but the task is well within our professional capacity. That said, I'm a little worried about some of the crew. For instance, there's Wesley who’s so obviously besotted with Deanna Troi on the one hand but exhibiting mild hostility to Worf, who he calls Woof behind his back, on the other. I'm concerned that not only will his previously high standard of work begin to suffer but that there maybe be aggro between the two, and we all know that Worf has trouble controlling his Klingon temper. It won’t end well. Then there's Riker, he's so petulant and he doesn't think I heard him whisper after I'd accidentally walked into one of the sliding doors yesterday whilst entering the bridge: 'To BALDLY go where no man has gone before, fills you with fucking confidence when you're travelling at seven times the speed of light.' Still, never mind, I'm above all this. In fact, I think I'll nip down to the holo-deck for a bit of intellectual stimulation. End log.”
Captain Jean-Luc Picard puts down the microphone and switches off the voice recorder.
SCENE: THE HOLO-DECK. The camera is zoomed in on Picard’s face which is a picture of contentment just prior to the view-screen flicking on with Data’s anxious face appearing…
DATA: Sorry to disturb you Captain but a strange energy field is obstructing our course.
PICARD: (business like) Say no more Data, I'll be with you immediately.
DATA: Captain… uh, is that (view-screen blinks off) quite wise?
Captain John-Luc Picard strides purposefully through the fluorescently lit and gentle curving corridors of the ship. His expression is one of practised grim determination however, passing crew members, initially astonished, struggle to stifle giggles.
SCENE: THE BRIDGE. The automatic doors slide open with a characteristic hiss. Picard emerges in true dramatic fashion and then bewildered as the bridge personnel strain, and some fail, not to break into laughter.
PICARD: (Turning to Riker) What is the source of all this mirth Number One?
BIKER: (With a smirk on his face) You've left your bondage gear on sir.
PICARD: (Reddening rapidly) Yes… um… uh.
DATA: (Interjecting in a factual tone) Bondage: A peculiar sexual deviation whereby gratification is derived…
PICARD: (Breaking in) That's quite enough Data… thank you.
DATA: (In full flow and not to be denied showing off his encyclopaedic knowledge) … by the wearing of restrictive clothing commonly fabricated from…
PICARD: (angrily shouting) SHUT UP DATA! (returning to normal authoritative mode) Now then, what's this unknown force?
DATA: (Unfazed) Quite extraordinary sir, the energy field appears to consist of millions of tiny heliocentric particles which are gradually drawing us to the core of the effect.
PICARD: Enlarge the image Data.
The screen expands to reveal countless thousands of dancing, pulsating, golden swastikas bathing the bridge in an eerie yellow glow.
PICARD: (Gasps) My God! It's a Nazi metamorphic force field… like the one that engulfed parts of the Earth during the nineteen thirties… and we're being sucked in… I want the engines maximum warp speed in reverse… NOW! … this is an emergency.
A large clank resounds throughout the ship as the engines falter and then grind to a halt.
GEORDIE LA FORGE: (In futile desperation) The engines… I can't believe it… they've failed.
PICARD: (Through gritted teeth) Fucking Skugos… I told Star Fleet they were crap but no they wouldn't listen… (Collects himself and adopts a Churchillian posture and addresses crew) We must all steel ourselves for the dark period that lies ahead. To stand alone, once again, resisting the evil of Fascism is our duty… nay… our cosmic destiny. Let us not be found wanting.
Stirring rhetoric, imminent danger – not one word is uttered, the bridge is silent and still. A whizzing sound suddenly punctuates the quiet. The crew swivel round to see a nipple clamp, having worked itself loose from the captain’s garb, fly through the air, strike Riker on the cheek and then drop tinnily onto the deck.
The Enterprise is irrevocably drawn into the zone. Strange malevolent forces transform the ship and all contained within.
The star ship is now liveried in Field Gray and blazoned across the superstructure is the name, RICHTOFEN. Within the vessel the stirring and stridency of German Marching Music has become all pervading. The crew have all taken on Nazi personas… except for Geordie who by a quirk of Chaos Theory has assumed the form of Barry Manilow.
PICARD: (Resplendent in the uniform of a Field Marshall turns to his Science Officer and speaks in a German accent) Herr Data, how long can ve expect this magnificent effect to last?
DATA: I estimate a minimum of vone hour before ze effect wears off sir! (clicks heels together)
PICARD: Let us hope there is yet sufficient time to carry out the aspirations of our Glorious Fatherland… yes… the complete annihilation of Planet Clanger and its parasitic, veak and subhuman species. (Addressing an out of frame subordinate) Get me Von Worf!
The Richtofen (Enterprise) speeds to Planet Clanger and then places itself in orbit.
SCENE: THE BRIDGE. Field Marshall Picard can be seen consulting his trusty security officer, Von Worf.
PICARD: Vorf, ve have it is estimated no more than twenty minutes to vipe out ze vermin…
VON WORF: (Matter-of-factly) Redirecting all available power into ze lasers and proton torpedoes and then systematically sweeping the planet… I calculate fifteen minutes.
PICARD: (Rubbing his hands gleefully) Excellent, excellent… (Catches sight of Geordie, sporting dark sunglasses and clutching the Barry Manilow Song Book, in the process of manoeuvring a piano into the lift)
PICARD: (Suspiciously) Vot are you doing Engineer?
GEORDIE: (Thinking quickly) I thought perhaps a little Wagner to inspire us all?
PICARD: (Completely taken in) Ah… how appropriate for an occasion such as this… (Sighs contentedly)
GEORDIE: (Muttering under his breath) Hope there's enough power left for the speakers.
On the small planet's surface destruction rains down upon the stunned Clangers and between explosions and high-pitched whistling and shrieking can be discerned the cheerful tunes of Barry Manilow – for many of the inhabitants their last recollection, before a fiery vaporisation, is that of 'Could it be Magic' or 'Can’t Smile Without You'.
Swiftly all is reduced to a smouldering charred mass – surely not a living creature could have survived: genocide is complete, absolute.
SCENE: THE BRIDGE: Picard surveys his handiwork and that of his loyal Nazi crew through the view-screen.
PICARD: (Exuding twisted satisfaction) Wunderbar, Wunderbar…
The Marching Music begins to fade; the uniforms revert to those of Star Fleet and the Teutonic accents are lost. Wails of remorse begin to rise and then self-recrimination as the crew realise the enormity of the crime and their complicity in it. How could it happen? Other voices ask. Have we learnt nothing? More questions.
PICARD: (Sombre, picks up the mike and broadcasts throughout the Enterprise) You are all well aware of the terrible atrocity we have just committed against innocent beings…
Everywhere heads are hung low.
PICARD: (Continues with gravitas) Their blood… the blood of our fellow creatures will forever stain our hands… the guilt… that oppressive and unrelenting millstone… I will turn the ship round and surrender ourselves to the authorities… (He sees himself in the dock sentenced to life imprisonment… no more holo-deck stimulation… ever)
PICARD: (Mumbles almost imperceptibly to himself) No more holo-deck… (Collects himself) … right… let's get the hell out of here before anyone realises it was us… we can blame it on that Romulan ship that was in the sector… and I'll lynch any fucker who breathes a word of this to anyone outside.
Virtually every crew member nods in assent.
PICARD: (To ensign) Warp Factor nine!
The Enterprise accelerates smoothly and effortlessly.
PICARD: (Turns and addresses Riker who is distractedly probing a tender area on his cheek) The old Nazis may have had a bit of a bad press when it came to human rights but, let's be honest, their engineering skills were second to none… just listen to those engines purr…
An hour later:
COMMUNICATIONS OFFICER: Captain Picard, there's an urgent message from Commodore Wright of Star Fleet Command.
PICARD: (Still in bondage gear) Put him on screen.
COMMODORE WRIGHT: (Screws up his face in puzzlement for a moment and then speaks strongly with a voice not dissimilar to Gene Hackman) Good God Picard! What on earth are you wearing?
PICARD: (Stuttering) Ah… yes… um… it's a special support for my slipped disc… sir.
The bridge staff, as one, raise their eyes skyward.
COMMODORE WRIGHT: Anyway, I haven't contacted you just to check on your dress code… Picard, we have unconfirmed reports of a massacre of genocidal proportions on Clanger Planet. You were heading in that direction on a minor mission… did you see anything? Can you shed any light on what happened? Why on earth would anyone want to slaughter the peace loving gentle Clangers? What kind of sick and deranged mind is out there?
PICARD: We did pass a Romulan ship…but then we broke down… Geordie managed to fix us.
COMMODORE WRIGHT: (With an expression of I-know-you're-bullshitting-me) Hmm… well let me know if anything comes to light. Now then, something more important has come up – a time hole has opened up close to earth. We have sent some ships to investigate but it may help if you attend… you never know in a situation like that.
PICARD: We'll set a course immediately sir.
COMMODORE WRIGHT: You sure you don't know anything about this massacre… be just like you bunch of clowns to loose off a proton torpedo by mistake.
PICARD: I can assure you sir we had nothing to do with it.
As the Commodore cuts off the communication Picard turns to the crew – they are all pulling rictus grins.
Just below the razed surface of Clanger Planet a pile of rubble begins to tumble. A head and neck emerge from the debris – it is the Soup Dragon. He surveys the dreadful carnage wreaked by the Enterprise and its crew. His friends, his only friends, are all dead. He vows revenge and like his Chicken soup it will not be a dish served cold…