Star Traks: Banshee "A Day in the Life of..." Peter Stefanski By Brad Dusen 0630 Hours BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! The computer sounded Peter's alarm clock. "Err!" Peter reached out, grabbed the clock and threw it against the wall where it proceeded to slide down, landing on a pile of a half dozen other clocks. "Peter Stefanski, it is time for you to wake." The computer said indifferently. Peter turned in bed. "Go away!" He called out. "Unable to comply, now move your ass out of bed." The computer began flicking the lights on and off. "Okay! Okay!" Peter grumbled as he emerged from his bed. He got up and stretched, letting out a mightly yawn. After emerging from the sonic shower, he quickly dressed in his usual suit, similar to those worn by various members of the Orion Syndicate, not that he was a member... anymore. "Eggs, scrambled with extra American cheese." Peter said as he ordered his breakfast from the replicator. The computer beeped. "Dr. Issac has instructed you to cut back on high fat foods." "I am aware of that and I intend to." Peter groaned. "In a decade or two." The replicator hummed as Peter's meal was produced. Peter quickly inhaled the eggs. 0700 Hours "The Twilight Zone is now open for business." Peter said as he walked through a crowd of people milling around the doors to the Twilight Zone. The crowd let out an uninterested grunt as the lights came on. Peter took his place behind the bar as various crewmembers walked up to him, asking for drinks. Something told him this could be a long day. 1000 Hours "Well did you ever think about having it removed?" Peter asked one of his patrons in an attempt to console him. "But then I can't say I have the galaxy's largest genital wart." The ensign explained. "Yeah, but if it means that you can't be with a woman, then I think the choice is obvious." "Keep it! Thanks, Pete!" The ensign walked away. Peter plunked down on his stool, restraining the urge to puke as the events described to him circulated in his mind. "Hey Pete..." Commander Rachow walked up to the bar, most likely taking a break from his duties. Feeling an oncoming headache, Peter said, "What is it, Commander?" "I was wondering, have you ever considered adding a strip club to the Twilight Zone?" Ben smiled. "No, Commander. For one thing, there are very few women who would strip in this day in age and I doubt that Captain Vorezze would approve." Peter paused. "Actually, I think he WOULD approve, but that's beside the point." Ben shrugged and walked off. Siruk, a Vulcan waiter, walked up to Peter. "There is a couple in table 13 complaining about the food and drink quality." Peter grumbled to himself. Who would insult the quality of the food and drink in the Twilight Zone. All of it was real. Peter prepared the drinks himself from real synthaholic components and chefs prepared all the meals in the galley. This was fine dining in comparison to the replicated slop that the computer churned out. Peter suddenly wondered why he ate that slop for breakfast. Arriving at table 13, Peter found a pair of disgruntled looking Klingons. "Don't tell me, officer exchange program?" Peter asked nervously. The Klingon nodded and stood up. "This slop is not fit to be fed to a common targ!" He shouted. "Uh oh." Siruk said. "Now I'd hardly say that." Peter looked down at the fine filet mignon he had the kitchen prepare. "I simply did not know that this meal was inteded for people of your taste." He said nervously. "I could always have the kitched whip up a batch of nice, fresh gagh for you, or rokeg blood pie, or some nice Klingon skull stew." "This is an insult to me and my family!" The Klingon bellowed. He drew a knife and charged at Peter. Peter dropped down, rotating his leg and sending the Klingon crashing into a cart holding a pumpkin pie. "Ha ha!" 1215 Hours "Ah, the lunchtime rush." Peter smiled as the Twilight Zone became swarming with customers. "Feed me!" Vince shouted hungrily as he walked up to the bar. "What would you like?" Peter asked. "We are serving two specials, an all-beef hamburger with a slice of Ferengi spore pie or a massive Bolian hot dog with a side of Andorian antenna fries." "I'll have the hot dog." Vince said. "The what?" Peter asked, distracted by another customer. "The hot dog!" "Huh?" Peter poured someone's drink. "I want to eat the massive wiener!" Vince shouted. Half the lounge turned in his direction. "I meant the hot dog!" Vince protested. "Uh huh..." The others turned. Peter removed a plate from the mini-transporter that linked the Twilight Zone to the galley. "What would you like to drink?" "Aldebaran whisky." Vince said. Peter removed a glass and began to pour. "You're sure you want this? This is REAL alcohol." "Yes, gimme gimme gimme!" Vince swiped the beverage from Peter's grasp. Carn walked into the Twilight Zone. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" Peter asked. "I was thinking of sampling some drinks." Carn said. "Well I have plenty." Peter grabbed a glass. "What would you like first?" "How about Tequila?" Carn said. "Sure." Peter poured the glass. 1230 Hours Carn weaved on his barstool in a drunken haze. "Wow, this stuff is powerful." Peter looked down at his glass. "It can get an android drunk!" Commander Burns walked by, then stopped and looked at Carn. "How many glasses has he had?" She asked. "Just one." Peter shrugged. "I am Kotal, the prettiest Klingon in the galaxy!" Vince stumbled by, drunk from the whisky. One of the two Klingons jumped up. "How dare you insult make fun of my sister, Kotal, like that!" He roared. "That is an insult to the House of T'Rask!" "This could get ugly." Peter moaned. "Prepare for combat you paTak!" "Whaa..?" Vince asked, dazed. "DuQua!" The Klingon raised his bat'leth. "Today is a good day to die." A hand grabbed the Klingon from behind. "It's also a good day to be arrested." The Klingon turned to see Commander Dan Smith standing behind him. "Now run along or I'll put you in the brig." The Klingon growled, then stormed back to his quarters. "Thanks." Peter said as he wiped up a spill make when the Klingon unleashed his bat'leth. "Sir." Siruk said. "We have a slight problem. It's Lieutenant Carn." Peter turned to see Carn, drunk and most likely with a faulty gender identity program, treating the crew to a drag striptease performance on a nearby table. "YIKES!" After a few moments of watching in disgust, Peter suddenly shouted, "Everybody turn away!" Carn removed the last remnants of his clothing as the crowd turned their heads away. Captain Vorezze walked into the Twilight Zone and saw Carn standing nude on the table. He quickly turned and left. 1400 Hours "So what do you think?" A lonely looking ensign asked. "Should I tell her that I love her?" Peter paused, wiping off the countertop. "Well you see, there are laws against marrying a horse, you know." "Really?" "Yes." Peter said. "And plus, I don't think the captain would appreciate you mounting one of the arboretum's horses in THAT way." "I guess you're right." The ensign walked away. "Are there any monkey's in the arboretum?" "No, try the holodeck." Peter called. Counselor Stokes walked into the Twilight Zone, dressed as a giant cactus. "I'll have an iced tea." "Hello there, Spike." Peter said as he looked at the disgruntled Counselor. "It's a costume for a play we're rehearsing." Emily insisted. "I'll bet." Peter retorted. "Just hand it over or I'll poke your eyes out!" Emily snapped. "Fine." Peter slid a glass of iced tea in Emily's direction. Dr. Lang walked into the lounge, looking very pale faced. "It was the oddest thing." She said to Peter. "I walked onto holodeck 4 to run my Alpine Skiing simulation and I saw, what looked like a man doing it with a monkey." "Oh, err, um, I wouldn't know anything about that." Peter said. "Andorian Bubbly?" "Thank you." Liz picked up the glass of carbonated fruit juice. "You know, I'm starting to wonder if I'm ever going to sell any of this?" Peter picked up a case of green bottles from below the bar. "What is it?" Liz asked. "Slug-o-Cola, the slimiest cola in the galaxy." Peter said. "I heard it was pretty good, but I've never tried it." "I'll try it." Liz said, feeling brave. She picked up the bottle and took a swig. "Let me know if you like it." "IICCKK!" She gagged, spitting the slimy beverage all over Peter. "I'm guessing not." "Dear god, what's in that crap?" Liz gasped. Peter picked up the bottle and read the ingredients, "50% live algae." He said. Liz suddenly felt dizzy. "Perhaps I should lay down." She stumbled off to her quarters. "Peter!" Emily called. She wandered over to the bar with a chair stuck to the prickles on her butt. "Siruk, help the Counselor." Peter groaned. "Emily, are you in here?" Ben walked in, dressed as the back end of a donkey. "How appropriate." Peter smiled. 1820 Hours "I'm working on it!" Peter shouted as the Twilight Zone became more and more packed for the dinner crowd. "Excuse me, but I don't like this crust on my macaroni and cheese." Lieutenant Rayhan walked up to Peter. "Deal with it, I'm busy." Peter said as he quickly tossed together a martini. "Well I'll just have to complain to the manager." Rayhan said. "Who is it?" "Me." "Oh." The Trill walked away. Siruk walked up to the bar. "Sir, the Klingons are demanding a barrel of bloodwine for their celebration." Peter paused. "Celebration for what? They didn't kill any- thing today." "Apparently they finally managed to rid themselves of fleas." Siruk explained. "That would be reason enough for them to celebrate." "Kahless is spinning in his grave." Peter mumbled. "Hackett!" He called to his aid. The Human civilian wandered up to him. "Go get one of the barrels of bloodwine from cargo bay 2." "Yes, sir." Hackett walked away. "Lobster with butter!" Peter called out as he took a tray off the transporter platform. "Mine!" Commander Rachow grabbed the plate. "I thought that Dr. Issac told you to cut back on fatty foods too." Peter eyed Ben. "Do you know what happened to the last person who listened to Dr. Issac when he said that?" Ben asked, licking some butter off his finger as he held the plate. "No, what?" "He starved to death." "Oh." Peter said. He walked over to the replicator and ordered something, then handed it to Ben. "What's this?" "Extra butter." Hackett walked back into the Twilight Zone. "The bloodwine is gone." He said. "What happened to it?" "Someone drank it." Hackett said. "Fine, go to the other stock in cargo bay 1." Hackett turned and left. Peter shook his head and turned to another customer. It was Velorn. "Ah, captain, what brings a distinguished Vulcan such as yourself to my fine establishment?" "I am not seeing why you are attempting to flatter me, seeing as though it will have no effect." "Fine, what do you want?" "Vulcan mint tea." Peter walked over, poured the hot water and pulled out a tea bag. "Here you go." He handed it to Velorn. "Thank you." The Vulcan walked away. Hackett walked back into the lounge. "Sir, that stock is gone as well. It, too, was consumed." Peter was getting irritated. "Who the hell is drinking the bloodwine?" As he said this, a Commander Riley stumbled in, singing Klingon opera at the top of his lungs. "I guess that answers that question." "DouToq!" One of the Klingons shouted. "How dare you mock us to our faces. For that, you shall die like the dishonerable human you are!" "Velorn, may I?" Peter asked as he grabbed Velorn's phaser. "Please." The Vulcan said as he dipped the tea bag into the water. "Fight!" The Klingon shouted "Not in my bar!" Peter shot the Klingon. "What setting was that on?" Velorn asked. "Stun." Peter said. "Aww..." He sipped his tea, then started gagging. "Velorn?" Peter asked nervously. "Are you all right?" Peter looked at the tea bag. It wasn't Vulcan mint tea, it was Klingon tea, the same type of poisonous drink used in the Klingon tea ceremony. "Twilight Zone to sickbay, medical emergency, bring the antidote for Klingon tea!" Peter shouted as he rushed over to Velorn. 2250 Hours "He'll be fine!" Brian said as he pushed Peter out of sickbay. "The antidote is in effect, my nurses are monitoring him through the night and he instructed me not to let you within five meters of him." "But I just want to apologize." Peter said. "Bake him a chocolate cream pie without poison in it and we'll call it even, now go!" Peter walked down the hallway. He had pissed off a walking cactus, taken on some surly Klingons, watched Carn strip as a drag queen and poison the experience officer all in one day. "I'll try to do more tomorrow." Peter said to himself as he walked onto the turbolift and headed back to his quarters to go to sleep.