Banned from Argo, 1/10
Title: Banned from Argo
Warnings (this chapter): general insanity which is not my fault.
Summary: There's a planet Argo in this timeline too, and all sorts of ways to get in trouble there...
Author's notes: I have committed a terrible sin. I have taken that infamous TOS filk song, "Banned from Argo" by Leslie Fish, and I have expanded upon it in the reboot universe. Just so you know, the plot is the major characters getting into weird, hilarious trouble while on shore leave. And that, really, is about it. You have been warned.
Verse One
When we pulled into Argo Port in need of R&R,
The crew set out investigating every joint and bar.
We had high expectations of their hospitality,
But found too late it wasn't geared for spacers such as we.
Yes, I was there when the Enterprise made its first, and thankfully last, stop at Argo. You've all heard the stories about the havoc they wrought in the city, but I'll bet you've never stopped to consider what happened at the beaming station. It was the busy season on Argo (don't ask me why there's more tourism during certain months of an environment where Terran climate cycles are irrelevant, but that's how it is.) Of course we had anticipated the rush of traffic, opened up the extra wing of transporter pads that lie dormant most of the time, and hired a gaggle of temporary workers. Even that wasn't enough, because apparently fate was against us that week. The tourists were out in full force, having gotten over the space-fright of the last few years. A merchant fleet, several dozen craft and a couple thousand crewbeings strong, came in for repairs, and naturally had to land most of their crew. And on the day that most of them were coming through and being processed as fast as we could go, the Enterprise just had to dock at the orbiting station, and put in for the transport of virtually all of its crew. This is the sort of situation the employees of beaming stations have nightmares about.
The sheer number of people was bad enough, but the shore-leave-hyped Starfleeters seemed determined to disrupt everything they could. Now, we get tourists that are pretty uncooperative, but generally tourists don't come in groups of fifty. The semblance of military discipline and unity imposed by the security chief (whom I swear was the only level-headed one of the lot, apart from the Vulcan) worked both ways - this was a bunch of hyperactive tourists that could unto itself generate an impromptu softball game in the central hall. And you really don't want to know what the poor customs checkers found in their baggage and had to deal with. There are still escaped Garovven mice living in our walls, the floor is oddly dented where a lead ball was dropped (don't ask), and that one desk is still slightly blue.
Chorus:
And we're banned from Argo, everyone.
Banned from Argo, just for having a little fun.
We spent a jolly shore leave there for just three days or four,
But Argo doesn't want us any more.
Travis Ndela (lieutenant governor's assistant) turned from the window, where he'd been watching the red, blue, and gold flood as it fanned out from the beaming station.
"Harry, I bet you before they leave by themselves, we have to intervene."
Harry (lieutenant governor's assistant's secretary) chuckled. "Travis, you pessimist! We've had starship crews before; what's different about this one?"
Travis assumed an expression of mock indignation. "'What's different,' you ask? This is the Enterprise. They don't do anything by halves - not saving the world, not overrunning Argo."
"Point taken, but so is your bet. They can't be that bad."
Warnings (this chapter): general insanity which is not my fault.
Summary: There's a planet Argo in this timeline too, and all sorts of ways to get in trouble there...
Author's notes: I have committed a terrible sin. I have taken that infamous TOS filk song, "Banned from Argo" by Leslie Fish, and I have expanded upon it in the reboot universe. Just so you know, the plot is the major characters getting into weird, hilarious trouble while on shore leave. And that, really, is about it. You have been warned.
Verse One
When we pulled into Argo Port in need of R&R,
The crew set out investigating every joint and bar.
We had high expectations of their hospitality,
But found too late it wasn't geared for spacers such as we.
Yes, I was there when the Enterprise made its first, and thankfully last, stop at Argo. You've all heard the stories about the havoc they wrought in the city, but I'll bet you've never stopped to consider what happened at the beaming station. It was the busy season on Argo (don't ask me why there's more tourism during certain months of an environment where Terran climate cycles are irrelevant, but that's how it is.) Of course we had anticipated the rush of traffic, opened up the extra wing of transporter pads that lie dormant most of the time, and hired a gaggle of temporary workers. Even that wasn't enough, because apparently fate was against us that week. The tourists were out in full force, having gotten over the space-fright of the last few years. A merchant fleet, several dozen craft and a couple thousand crewbeings strong, came in for repairs, and naturally had to land most of their crew. And on the day that most of them were coming through and being processed as fast as we could go, the Enterprise just had to dock at the orbiting station, and put in for the transport of virtually all of its crew. This is the sort of situation the employees of beaming stations have nightmares about.
The sheer number of people was bad enough, but the shore-leave-hyped Starfleeters seemed determined to disrupt everything they could. Now, we get tourists that are pretty uncooperative, but generally tourists don't come in groups of fifty. The semblance of military discipline and unity imposed by the security chief (whom I swear was the only level-headed one of the lot, apart from the Vulcan) worked both ways - this was a bunch of hyperactive tourists that could unto itself generate an impromptu softball game in the central hall. And you really don't want to know what the poor customs checkers found in their baggage and had to deal with. There are still escaped Garovven mice living in our walls, the floor is oddly dented where a lead ball was dropped (don't ask), and that one desk is still slightly blue.
Chorus:
And we're banned from Argo, everyone.
Banned from Argo, just for having a little fun.
We spent a jolly shore leave there for just three days or four,
But Argo doesn't want us any more.
Travis Ndela (lieutenant governor's assistant) turned from the window, where he'd been watching the red, blue, and gold flood as it fanned out from the beaming station.
"Harry, I bet you before they leave by themselves, we have to intervene."
Harry (lieutenant governor's assistant's secretary) chuckled. "Travis, you pessimist! We've had starship crews before; what's different about this one?"
Travis assumed an expression of mock indignation. "'What's different,' you ask? This is the Enterprise. They don't do anything by halves - not saving the world, not overrunning Argo."
"Point taken, but so is your bet. They can't be that bad."