Klank
Last time on Star Trek: Door Repair Guy:
Shot of the stars at warp speed from the K'Vort vessel's
point of view. Suddenly the stars jump down to subwarp and Deep
Space Nine looms up.
A Klingon transporter effect surrounds Door Repair Guy and
removes him from his quarters.
The command chair rotates toward him. A Klingon woman
occupies it. She smiles a snaggly grin.
"marghyerIyt jIH. chay' ghamma jogh DaparHa'a'." ["I am
Marguerite. How do you like the Gamma Quadrant?"]
"marghyerIyt DuraS'a'." ["Marguerite Duras?"]
"vIponglu'." ["So I am called."]
A voice from a dark corner: "'ej qeylIS vIponglu'." ["And I
am called Kahless."]
And now this week's exciting episode:
Shot of the K'Vort-class Bird of Prey as it coasts deeper
and deeper into the Gamma Quadrant.
Cut to the ruddy interior. Two Klingon guards are escorting
Door Repair Guy to the brig. They step over the threshold and
drop him in. One of them activates the containment field,
laughs, and they both clomp off. He stands, rubs his posterior,
and looks around. There's not much to distinguish the brig from
any other kind of quarters on a Klingon ship, really; they're all
bare and hard on the behind. This one has a replicator.
"De'wI'. pIpyuS pach. qagh. ro'qegh'Iwchab. targh tIq.
Dargh. Sa' chang. tuj. yuchmey." ["Computer. Pipius claw.
Gakh. Rokeg blood pie. Heart of targ. Tea. General Chang.
Hot. Chocolates."]
The repast appears, along with a little poisonous flower in
a vase. He spreads the food out around him on the floor and
tucks in. Partway through the blood pie a guard strolls by and
stops to watch.
"Soj tlhIngan DaparHa''a'." ["You like Klingon food?"]
"majQa'." ["Yummy."]
"tI mach yISop." ["Eat the little flower."]
"'oH Qob law' SoH Qob puS." ["It's deadlier than you are."]
The guard takes instant offense at this, raises his finger
toward the containment field control panel, thinks twice, and
breaks out in a loud belly laugh.
"bIlugh." ["You're right."] He shakes his finger at Door
Repair Guy. "yab Quj QaQ." ["Good mind game."]
DRG: [belch].
The ship flies on.
A starfield. We move toward the brightest speck, which
grows in luminescence and resolves into a binary star system as
we approach. Stellar matter forming a bright burning tail arcs
away from the orbiting yellow star and spirals inward forming a
glowing disk around the intense white dwarf star. We pass close
by. Voiceover:
"Crawlspace: the final frontier. These are the voyages of
the Door Repair Guy. His mission: to install and maintain
proximity-activated entranceways, to stake out new rooms and new
service conduits -- to boldly go where no one with a pass key has
gone before."
We approach a planetary system. The great bulk of a gaseous
giant fills the upper half of the screen. A jagged asteroid
rolls by, revealing the words:
Star Trek: Door Repair Guy
A tiny companion moon tumbles after, revealing the word:
Starring
We close in on a planetoid, and as the mottled surface
speeds across the screen we read:
Door Repair Guy as
Himself
Avery Brooks as
Commander Benjamin Sisko
Rene Auberjonois as
Odo
Siddig El Fadil as
Doctor Julian Bashir
Terry Farrell as
Lieutenant Jadzia Dax
Colm Meaney as
Chief Miles O'Brien
Armin Shimerman as
Quark
Nana Visitor as
Major Kira Nerys
Robert O'Reilly as
Gowron
Natalia Nogulich as
Admiral Nechayev
Harvey Kietel as
Klank
We make a perfect three-point landing. Unfortunately, the
camera ship is following too closely and plows into our tail,
blowing both vessels to smithereens.
[Commercial: Ottawa Senators
Stanislav Neckar on the Florida Panthers:
"Miao."]
View of Deep Space Nine. The damaged K't'inga-class battle
cruiser is docked at one of the upper pylons.
Cut to the Infirmary. All the beds are occupied by scorched
and bloodied Klingons. The medical team have their hands full.
We see Doctor Bashir bend to press a hypospray against the throat
of an injured Klingon. A gloved fist grabs him by the wrist.
"pagh Hergh." ["No drugs."]
"You have a broken femur. I have to set it."
"'oy'wIj vIneH." ["I want my pain."]
So far Bashir has won this argument with the comatose
patients alone, so he makes a face and says:
"Suit yourself. Nurse, hold him here. Ready? One, two
three . . ."
"ARRRRRRRRrghghghghghghllgh!!!!"
Bashir scans the break, is satisfied, and straps a bone-
knitter around the limb. He is about to move on when again the
fist grabs him.
"Satlho'." ["I thank you."]
"No, really. It was my pleasure."
The dark and smoky bridge of the damaged K't'inga cruiser.
The captain is slouched in his command chair, staring
despondently at the tactical display on the forward viewscreen.
Normally the computer on a Klingon warship will repeat the
vessel's latest action as a sort of screen-saver if there is
nothing else going on. The captain gazes disconsolately at the
screen as the smaller K'Vort-class vessel takes out his shields
and engines in one fell swoop, leaving him to drift sideways
until the recording is repeated. The captain beats his chest.
The tactical display breaks up and is replaced by a
transmission. Gowron appears, first in profile, then turning to
the camera with widening eyes, an intimidation move he got from a
nature film about barn owls.
*toH, tlhangq, bIlujta'. DujlIj qumoHHa'ta'. Dujunta'
be'ni'. qaja' 'e' chIch vIneH. taHHa' jabbI'ID.* [*So, Klank,
you have failed. You have brought dishonour to your ship. The
sister has evaded you. I just wanted to tell you. Transmission
ended.*]
The screen returns to its continual replay of Klank's
disgrace. He groans deeply and fumbles for his disruptor.
Cut to a side-chamber in the Great Hall of the Ruling
Council on Qo'noS. Gowron steps away from the viewscreen and
thinks about his next move.
"tlhonDaq jIja'qu'law'. De'wI'. nuqDaq voDleH." ["I
suppose I should fill in the clone. Computer, where is the
Emperor?"] {Linguistic note: "tlhon" is a Klingon imitation of
the English word "clone", but it also means "nostril". "Clone",
incidentally, derives from the Greek "klon" meaning "twig".}
*SaHbe' voDleH qeylIS.* [*Emperor Kayless is not present.*]
"nuq. nuqDaq ghaH." ["What? Where is he?"]
*mejpu'.* ["He left."]
"nuqDaq ghoS'a'." ["Where did he go?"]
*pa'.* ["Away."]
"yIHuv." ["Be more specific!"]
*ghamma jogh.* ["The Gamma Quadrant."]
Closeup of Gowron, his eyes widening in dawning awareness.
[Commercial: Ottawa Senators
Alexi Yashin on the Philadelphia Flyers:
"Flyer. What is? Snow sled, no? They are snow sled."]
View of Deep Space Nine. Sisko's office. Commander Sisko
is at his desk being lectured by Admiral Nechayev via desktop
computer.
Admiral Nechayev: *Next, as regards the injured Klingon
crewmen. I'm sending Argo to transport them back to Klingon
space. I want the K't'inga cruiser returned to its home base
with a skeleton crew only. Is she space-worthy?*
"Our scans indicate that she is in need of two to three
days' repair."
*Haven't you boarded her?*
"No."
*Get to it, Commander! Now, concerning the Duras factor.
Starfleet Command believes that this is a last-ditch attempt by
the House of Duras to supplant Gowron on the Ruling Council. The
Romulan alliance has been of no benefit to them at all. Clearly
the Duras faction has been a tool of Romulan policy, not the
other way around, as the Klingons would have preferred.*
"My God, Admiral. You're not suggesting that the Duras
family are attempting to align themselves with the Dominion?"
*If you'll allow me to finish a sentence, Commander. We
believe that the Duras family are attempting to align themselves
with the Dominion. It is unfortunate that our patrols were not
able to turn them back toward the Empire, or that Gowron's men
were not able to accomplish their mission. We are now faced with
a decision. Some action on our part is called for, but what?*
"I'll take the Defiant in myself and find them."
*Oh, excuse me, Commander, that was a rhetorical question.
I have a meeting in ten minutes to decide this matter. I wasn't
looking for advice.*
"I see."
*Well, if that is all . . .*
"Admiral, the percherons."
*Oh, yes, Commander. What's that all about?*
"One of my technicians has built a gateway leading directly
from his quarters to Nathan Phillips Square in Toronto."
*Toronto? Toronto, Earth?*
"Yes."
*And people can go through it?*
"Yes."
*I can be in Toronto in fifteen minutes. I'll just pack a
few things. This is excellent news. I shall lead the expedition
into the Gamma Quadrant! Nechayev out!*
The doors to the bridge of the K't'inga cruiser open with a
hydraulic scrape and O'Brien peers in holding a tricorder.
"Hello? Anybody home? Nyookneck?"
He comes over to the captain's chair, looks at the slumped
body of Klank, the disruptor, then, hesitantly, up at the
ceiling.
"Oh, Murphy. O'Brien to Bashir."
*Bashir here. What's is it, Chief?*
"I'm on the Klingon vessel, Doctor. It's the Captain. He's
shot himself."
*Is he dead?*
O'Brien tries to decide.
"Hard to tell."
*Feel his neck.*
"Oh. Do I have to?"
*Come on, Chief. I could be a matter of life or death.*
O'Brien searches around for a pulse, his face squeezed up
about as tight as it can go without completely shutting off
vision and air.
"I think I feel a pulse."
*Must be his redundant system. Stand back. I'm beaming him
out.*
Klank disappears in a transporter effect. O'Brien looks
around, holding his hand in the air and trying to find something
to wipe the mauve blood onto.
[Bob:
"Whoa, boy oh boy. Back to more Door Repair Guy in a
minute. As you know, there's an information revolution going on
out there, and it doesn't do to fall out of touch, because, well,
whoa, that'd be bad, so let's just fire up the old modem here and
see what's doing on the information highway today."
Shot of computer screen with list of discussion groups.
"This looks interesting:
alt.sexy.maintenance.men.in.overalls. What can that be about?
Let's see. I'll just click on this."
Shot of page of text. Bob reads:
"'If I met Door Repair Guy at a convention, what would I do?
The trick is to get him into a service corridor. All convention
centres have them, and they're usually empty except for a few
golf carts or forklifts. Anyway, you say, 'Oh, I've got
something in my eye, can you help me get it out? I think there's
some good light over here' and once he's in the corridor you go
into your big purse (remember, we talked about big purses) and
give him a good shot of pressurized whipped cream in the face.
Then --' er, and it goes on from there."
"I should remind you that there's a Star Trek convention at
the Westin Hotel May 21st, and Bill Shatner'll be there, and so
will I, if I can just lay my hands on some orange overalls."]
[Commercial: Ottawa Senators
Jim Paek on the Pittsburgh Penguins:
"Sigh."]
The operating theatre in the Infirmary. Bashir and his
medical staff in red surgical garments, now liberally smeared
with mauve Klingon blood, are hard at work saving Captain Klank.
Bashir: "Heart-rate?"
Assistant: "Ninety over one hundred and twelve. Is that
good?"
Bashir: "Who knows. As long as his heart keeps going I'll
be happy. I'm ready to implant the positronic lobe."
The second assistant holds it up and says, "I'm not certain
that the programming is compatible with a Klingon personality."
Bashir: "It's all we've got. From here on it's do or die."
The camera draws back.
Shot of Odo and a security detail racing along the
Promenade. As they approach Quark's the sounds of battle
increase.
One Klingon throws another over the bartop and among the
Ferengi staff who have been cowering there since the melee began.
The Ferengi screech and dart away on all fours for the door. Odo
passes them on the way in.
"All right, everybody. The fun's over."
No sooner are the words out of his mouth than he's forced to
emergency-morph, the knife passing through the donut hole where
his head was into a nearby pillar.
Quark dashes from behind a tangle of overturned tables and
grabs Odo.
Quark: "I've seen Klingons on a tear before, but this goes
beyond fun and games. These guys really mean to kill each
other."
"Is everybody out?"
"I'm out. That's all I care about."
"They're probably frustrated at losing that battle."
"You're telling me."
They duck as a dabo wheel smashes into the wall above them.
Doctor Bashir leans down toward the camera and says, "I
think he's coming to."
Shot of Captain Klank opening first one eye and then the
other. A large metal plate covers half his forehead.
"nuqDaq jIH." ["Where am I?"]
"You're on Deep Space Nine. You suffered a severe head
injury. We have implanted a positronic lobe to replace the
damaged brain tissue. It's going to feel a little strange for a
while."
"chay' jIrIQpu'." ["How was I injured?"]
Bashir hesitates a moment, then says, "You shot yourself."
Klank thinks about this a moment, then seems to remember.
His hand comes up and feels the metal plate.
Bitterly: "Hab." ["Smooth."]
Bashir and his assistants exchange looks, taking this as a
bad sign.
[Commercial: Ottawa Senators
Don Beaupre on the Washington Capitals:
"Sigh."]
Shot of Deep Space Nine with the K't'inga cruiser still
docked at the upper pylon. Cut to Door Repair Guy's quarters.
Sisko and Dax are waiting beside the gateway.
Dax: "The Klingons destroyed Quark's. Now they're sitting
on the floor and telling stories about the death of kings. It's
sad."
Sisko: "Argo's still hours away. I'll be glad to get rid of
them. I wonder how O'Brien's doing with that cruiser? Sisko to
O'Brien."
*O'Brien here.*
"How's it going up there, Chief?"
*We've got most of the systems on line now, and about half
of the automation. The Klingons could fly out right now if they
didn't mind doing without shields or photon torpedoes.*
"Forget about the torpedoes, Chief. I don't want them
getting any ideas once they're under way."
*Even with this automation the skeleton crew won't have any
time to take their eyes off the drive gauges.*
"That's what I want to hear. Keep up the good work. Sisko
out."
Dax: "Here she comes."
The two watch as Admiral Nechayev carries her luggage across
the square and up to the gateway. She steps through.
"Commander. Lieutenant." She hands her luggage to Dax.
"Is Defiant gassed up and ready to go?"
"As always, Admiral. There's the matter of the Romulan
cloaking device. I assume that they do not yet know about the
purpose of this mission or of the shift in allegiance of the
House of Duras."
"We can't have that woman T'Rul around. Take it out."
"She'll have to agree to that."
"Then she has to want to take it out. Admiral Nechayev to
Subcommander T'Rul."
*T'Rul here. What is it?*
"We're about to take the Defiant into the Gamma Quadrant,
but we don't want any Romulans along."
*Then you'll damn well have to do without my cloaking
device!*
"If that's the way it must be. Nechayev out. They don't
make you admiral for nothing. This gateway is a splendid
convenience. I trust you've kept a guard on it."
"There are two guards just outside that door."
"Good. There's a job for the inventor at Starfleet HQ, you
can trust me. Who is it?"
"His name is Technician Door Repair Guy. He comes from
Nepean 5."
Nechayev displays a split second of surprise before her
professional demeanour kicks in. She takes Sisko by the arm and
draws him aside.
"I have to talk to you about this. Have him placed under
protective custody immediately."
"Admiral, the Duras ship beamed him away just before it
entered the wormhole."
This time it's panic that shows through momentarily. She
takes a deep breath and straightens her back even straighter.
"Then let's get that ship through that wormhole."
[Commercial: Ottawa Senators
Jamie Baker on the San Jose Sharks:
"Woo-hoo!"]
Doctor Bashir and an assistant walk through the Infirmary,
taking in all the empty beds.
"One thing about Klingons. You never have to discharge
them. They just get up and go. Where's Klank?"
"He left a few minutes ago. He said he wasn't going to hang
in a public hospital."
"Hang? That's very idiomatic. Where did they design that
lobe? California?" It sinks in. "Computer, where is Captain
Klank?"
*Captain Klank is in room 02-218.*
"That's just down the Promenade! Come on!"
They dash down the Promenade to a disused storefront.
Bashir tries the door. Locked.
"Emergency medical override Bashir Game Set Match!"
The door swooshes open. Through the door we glimpse Klank's
bootspiked feet kicking in the air.
Bashir: "Damn! Doesn't he value fine surgery? Give me your
phaser!"
"I don't have one!"
He slaps his head and looks around. His eyes fall on the
gravity controls.
"Oh, Julian, you are brilliant."
He taps the controls and begins to float upward, along with
his assistant and an astonished, if disoriented, Klank.
[Commercial: Ottawa Senators
Mark Lamb on the Philadelphia Flyers:
"Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo! etc etc.
(Lies on his side on the floor and walks in a circle.)]
The turbolift deposits Sisko and Nechayev at Ops.
Sisko: "The Admiral and I are taking the Defiant into the
Gamma Quadrant to try to counteract the efforts of the Duras
family, and to bring back our missing crewman. Kira, the
station's yours. Dax, you're with me."
Nechayev: "We'll need the shape-shifter."
Sisko gives her an patient look and taps his commbadge:
"Odo, would be so good as to join us on the Defiant? We're going
to visit the Dominion."
*Commander, the station is crawling with Klingons.*
"So, unfortunately, is the Gamma Quadrant."
*As you wish.*
Kira: "Odo's right, Commander. Couldn't this wait until the
Argo has departed? What if the Klingons decide to seize
control?"
Admiral: "Dissuade them. Commander, time presses."
Sisko, in a loud voice, as they enter the turbolift:
"Everyone here has my full confidence." He glances down at the
top of Nechayev's head and makes a moment's eye contact with Kira
as the turbolift starts away, as if to say, "With the possible
exception of . . ."
The corridor leading to the Defiant. Sisko, Nechayev and
Dax approach just as T'Rul emerges from the ship with a cloaking
device thrown over her shoulder. As they pass, T'Rul and
Nechayev exchange cutting looks. Sisko and Dax glance at each
other, and Dax silently mouths the word, "Miao."
Exterior shot of the outer ring as Defiant pulls away,
turns, and heads for the wormhole. The Celestial Temple opens
its gates, admits them, and closes again.
The Infirmary. Klank is laid out on a table under light
sedation with a breathing tube stuck down his throat. Julian is
entering his report on a small computer pad. He becomes aware of
the sound of tramping boots, lots of them. He turns in time to
see a dozen Klingons crowd into the room. They hoist Klank up by
the arms, yank out his tube, and leave.
Klank: "nuqDaq maghoS." ["Where are we going?"]
A Klingon: "yay." ["Victory!"]
The all begin to shout it as they crowd into the turbolift.
"Yay!" "Yay!" ["Victory! Victory!"] [Look, I didn't
write the Klingon Dictionary.]
Bashir taps his commbadge: "Bashir to O'Brien. You may want
to start packing up your tools."
Exterior view of Deep Space Nine. The K't'inga-class
cruiser pulls away and heads for the wormhole. A moment later
it's in the Gamma Quadrant.
*O'Brien to Kira. The Klingons are gone.*
"Just in time. Here comes the Argo."
But it's not the Argo. It's a Vor'cha-class attack cruiser
decloaking.
Kira: "Red Alert!"
View of the huge Klingon warship's weapons arrays sweeping
past the point of view of the Ops viewscreen. This image is
replaced by the staring eyes of Gowron.
Gowron: "nuqDaq ghoS'a' chaH." ["Which way did they go?"]
Kira: [points in the direction of the wormhole].
Gowron eyes follow the finger. He barks: "gharghjuH. Hong.
yIchu'." ["Wormhole! Impulse power! Engage!"]
The Vor'cha ship disappears into the wormhole.
Kira puts her hand on her forehead and drops into her chair.
She taps her commbadge.
"Kira to Bashir. If there are a couple of chairs left
standing in Quark's at the end of this shift I'll buy you a
beer."
*[groans] Oh, Major. You're an empath. Quark's it is.*
Shot of Quark, amid the debris of his bar, settling
carefully into a chair to see if it'll still hold. It holds, he
grins and throws his arms up in triumph, to the applause of the
other Ferengi, and the rear legs give out, sending him tumbling
backward and his anxious employees rushing forward to pick him
up.
------------
Written by Douglas A. McLeod, [email protected]
------------
Notes on Klank:
On average I was able to produce a new DRG episode every two weeks. Klank took 24 hours.
"Miao." There was a series of Ottawa Senators ads that featured players making snide remarks about opposing teams. I think the Stan Neckar ad is for real. The Senators of the mid-Nineties had some seriously obscure players.
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