Five-Minute "The Breach"
by Zeke

Phlox: Hello, Ensign. What seems to be the tribble?
Sato: You mean trouble?
Phlox: Yes, sorry. A common side effect of holding these things is the desire to make bad puns.
Sato: Sure is cute, though. Can I have one?
Phlox: Have this one if you wish. I was just going to feed it to my Corellian gila monster, as I did your pet slug -- I mean, four wet bugs. Yes.

Phlox: Captain, I think you should read this letter I just received.
Archer: "Dear Dr. Phlox: Why won't you just leave me alone, you soulless monster? Stop writing me!"
Phlox: Sorry, wrong letter; that's from my good friend Dr. Lucas. Here's the correct one.
Archer: "Doctor: We need to extract three geologists from Xemia before the local hardheads get them. Would you and the beautiful Hoshi Sato mind doing that for us? Signed, the Denobulan Science Directorate."
Phlox: That's quite a renowned institution, you know. They once proved that monogamy is impossible.
Archer: Okay, we'll help them... but I think it's time I had another talk with Hoshi.

T'Pol: The network of caves is extensive. One might call it a wide-area network.
Archer: Then the away team will have some splunking to do. Do we have any splunkers on board?
Mayweather: Maybe me, sir... it depends on whether or not you mean "spelunking."
Archer: Yes, that's what I said. Splunking.
Mayweather: But --
T'Pol: Be patient, Mr. Mayweather. Soon Ensign Sato will finish programming the Universal Translator to speak his language.

Reed: That's the last carton of grenades. We're ready to go, sir.
Archer: Good luck, and bring me back something.
Mayweather: Roger. Let's go, team!
Tucker: Aw, who put him in charge?
Archer: Sorry, Trip, it's my fault. I let him get all assertive last week and it's gone to his head.

Distress Call: They won't let us land! Save us, O goddess Hoshi Sato!
Sato: I say we help them, sir.
Archer: I say you quit doing that to the ship's audio. And what is that thing you're holding?
Sato: Just a tribble. Don't worry, it's not tribblesome at -- whoa, Phlox was right.

Phlox: Give this one 30 ccs of intermuraline. Hurry!
Crewman: How? You just grabbed a bunch of us and declared us nurses. I'm a janitor, for crying out loud.
Phlox: Look, we didn't have the budget for Cutler this week, so we all have to make some sacrifices.

Mayweather: The Denobulans went down this bottomless pit -- I'm sure of it for some reason. Let's rappell.
Tucker: Aren't you worried that'll lead to the same thing it did in "Blood Fever"?
Mayweather: Worried? Of course not. What could you splunkheads do to injure me, the invincible Travis Mayweather?

Archer: How did the new nurses do, Doc?
Phlox: Not badly at all. The three patients are all alive, technically.
Archer: I won't ask. Say, isn't this one an Antaran?
Phlox: Good eye, sir. This Antaran needs treatment but is refusing it because of the long history of hatred between Antarans and Denobulans. Why, no member of one species has seen a member of the other in years.
Archer: You're going to turn out to be the same race, aren't you?
Phlox: I'd be very surprised if we didn't.

Reed: How much farther to the bottom?
Mayweather: I dunno. Anyone got a barometer?
Tucker: A ba-what now?
Mayweather: Come on, you must've heard that old "finding the height of a building with a barometer" thing sometime.

Archer: I'm telling you, Phlox is a standup guy. He's only killed one species the whole time he's been aboard. Just one!
Hudak: I don't care. I'd rather die than accept a blood transfusion from that Klingon dog.
Archer: He's Cardassian, not Klingon. And as for the dog thing --
Phlox: (over the comm) Ruff!
Archer: -- you may have a point.

Mayweather: Everyone hang on tight here or we'll all fall to our doom.
Reed: (Hee hee hee... this is gonna be my best prank ever.) Ahem. All in favour of rich, sweet pecan pie, raise your hands.
Tucker: Aye! Wh-- AAAAAAAAAA!
Reed: Gotcha! Hahaha! Wasn't that greaaaaaaaat....
Mayweather: Note to self: if we survive, gore them both.

Phlox: He doesn't want me to do it, Captain. I swore an oath --
Archer: Oath, shmoath! By the power vested in me by my disproportionate and barely-concealed rage, I order you to save that man's life!
Phlox: I suppose you'll be using Mr. Tucker's "Challenge your preconceptions or they'll challenge you" quote on me?
Archer: I was thinking more of "Challenge your preconceptions or I'll bash your creepy CGI smile in."
Phlox: Wait a minute. I see what's going on here. You find this situation uncomfortably reminiscent of your own attitude towards the V--
Archer: Great! Just great! The one time I'm subtle about something and you blow it!

Tucker: AAAAAAAhey, we stopped falling.
Reed: Thank God! Travis is anchoring us somehow.
Tucker: That's gotta hurt. You okay, Travis?
Mayweather: .....!
Reed: Wow. His scream is so high-pitched and girly the human ear can't detect it.
Tucker: That's handy. Wonder if there's anybody it does bother....

Porthos: RUFF! RUFF! RUFF RUFF RUFF!
Archer: What's gotten into you, boy? I've never seen you stuff your head under my pillow like this.

Reed: Rats! Missed the cliff again.
Tucker: It's never going to work if we don't synchronize. Let's swing toge-- whoa. No. No way am I giving the slashers a straight line like that.
Reed: I doubt the slashers are interested in a straight anything.
Tucker: Yeah. Still, best not to --
Mayweather: If you two don't hurry up, I swear to God I'm gonna climb down there and break all your bones!
Tucker: Geez, Travis. Chill.

Phlox: Your condition's deteriorating. If I don't treat you in 47 hours, you'll die.
Hudak: How original -- just what I'd expect from a monster like you. You make me sick.
Phlox: That's the exact opposite of what I'm offering you.
Hudak: More filthy Cardassian lies. It's just like your people to judge me for no other reason than that I embody the stereotype you've learned to hate.
Phlox: But I'm not judging --
Hudak: Lies! Lies!

Phlox: May I sit here?
T'Pol: If you must.
Phlox: I need some advice. What would you do if an Andorian were refusing treatment even though you could save his life?
T'Pol: Let him die.
Phlox: Bad example, perhaps. What if it were a human?
T'Pol: Let him die. I might actively kill him, in fact.
Phlox: Very well -- a Vulcan?
T'Pol: That is another matter. I believe I would let him die.
Phlox: You're cold, Subcommander.
T'Pol: That has always been my highest ambition.

Reed: Thank heaven! We've finally found them!
Scientist: Who are you? Go away.
Reed: Don't worry, we're only here to do one thing. Trip, where are the grenades?
Tucker: Travis had them. He threw most of them at us while we were dangling.
Reed: Oh, bloody spectacular! Now we'll have to save these buffoons instead.
Scientist: But we don't want you to --
Reed: Move along! Move!

Phlox: It's time I told you something. Your intolerance has awakened memories of my estranged son.
Hudak: Are these memories possessing people or summoning undead monsters to kill us all?
Phlox: No....
Hudak: Then why exactly do I care?

Reed: Hup two three four hup two three four -- hey, quit collecting rock samples! You're breaking formation.
Scientist: But just look at this specimen!
Reed: It's a big rock.
Scientist: Exactly! I can't wait to show my friends. They don't have a rock this big.
Tucker: You know, funny you should mention that: there just happens to be a giant boulder avalanching down at us.
Scientist: So you want me to what, run?
Reed: We'll run. You stand under it to find out if it's a hologram.

Sato: I think I'll call you Bjo. Bjo Tribble.
T'Pol: Ensign, does that light on your console not indicate a hail?
Sato: Oh! How long has that been on?
T'Pol: Twenty-nine minutes.
Archer: Hoshi, put the fuzzball away and open hailing frequencies. These people are a little hostile, remember.
Xemian: (over the comm) DIE! DIE! I WILL WASH THIS PLANET IN YOUR BLOOD!
Archer: Wait a minute. They weren't that hostile.
T'Pol: They have been listening to our hold music for half an hour, sir.

Hudak: I've done some long, hard thinking about this, and I've decided to take your offer.
Phlox: You won't regret choosing AOL.
Hudak: I mean the operation.
Phlox: Oh! I'm delighted that you've decided to put your hatred aside.
Hudak: No no, I still hate you. I'm just chicken.

Reed: Is everybody on board?
Tucker: One, two, three jerk scientists plus you and me... yeah, that's everybody.
Scientist: Then where is that high-pitched whine coming from?
(pause)
Reed and Tucker: Oh yeahhh....

Archer: Our crewmen are on their way back to the ship. As soon as they arrive, we're out of your hair.
Xemian: (over the comm) THE STARS THEMSELVES WILL WEEP AT YOUR FATE!
Archer: Look, do you really want to start a war over this? Starfleet would be a dangerous enemy.
T'Pol: With its one ship.
Archer: Shut. Up.

Reed: We're in the launch bay, Captain.
Archer: (over the comm) Whew! Helm, get us away from Xenophobia or whatever, maximum warp. Are you guys all okay?
Tucker: You bet. Except Travis, of course.
Archer: I'd say that falls under acceptable losses.
Mayweather: (Deathmurderkillstabmaul....)

Captain's Starlog: At last the mission's over. I'm gonna celebrate with pecan pie and a tribble scoop of -- dangit, now they've got me doing it.

Archer: I'm glad you decided to swallow your pride.
Hudak: I wish you people would stop saying that. It was purely a matter of cowardice.
Archer: Which you clearly take pride in.
Hudak: Point taken. Farewell, Captain, and give my regards to your dog.
Archer: When did you meet Porthos?
Hudak: I didn't mean Porthos.

Phlox: And that's how I ended the blood feud between the Antarans and the Cardassians. I think you'd do well to follow my example, son. Write back when you can. Sincerely, Phlox.
Sato: Okay, the recording's finished. I'll send this to your son right away.
Phlox: My son? It's for Dr. Lucas.
Sato: Whatever. You don't mind if I edit a bit, right? Grammar, spelling, Hoshi-worship....
Phlox: Of course not. By the way, how's the tribble working out?
Sato: I can't get into my quarters.
Phlox: Say no more, my dear. What you call extermination, I call a day's work.
(Enterprise heads off at Ludicrous Speed)

THE END


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This fiver was originally published on April 24, 2003.

DISCLAIMER: A lot of stuff in here is copyrighted by Paramount Pictures. My intent isn't to infringe on that; I and those like me are just having a little fun in the universe Gene Roddenberry created. I don't think he'd mind.

All material © 2003, Zeke.