Deep Space Quest 6.5 - Fan Fic 
 
Act I: 

Serving aboard the S.C.S. Commodore may just as well have been the greatest experience in Roger's life. 

Well, perhaps the rest of the crew didn't exactly see it the way he did. The crewmembers had worked on battlecruisers of similar size and shape before. This was just another vessel to them, with another Captain and another series of menial duties, of GOING BOLDLY where no men had gone before. (It should be noted that StarCon made a recorrection in its mission statement, after a lawsuit from the Grammatical Space Cowboys; Dept. Deep-Space Operational Facilities. Despite protest from nearly its entire staff of Captains, they were forced to carry out the change under the persuasion of twenty million Molazoids [worth 1,000 buckazoids per piece] - taken or given.) 

Roger was simply awestruck by the ship's incredible design. Not since the Goliath had he seen something so fabulous. And everybody wore spandex. Upon commenting about this to a fellow janitor, he was simply told that "it's just normal ... to anybody who is used to the original series of star-trekkies. StarCon's looking towards the next generation." Based on that statement, Roger decided that he liked the next generation. 

The captain of the S.C.S. Commodore was one of the most respected in the fleet - Captain Jimmy Deux. He was succeeded by his three Commanders - Worpfek, Terry, and Tien. The three worked in entirely separate parts of the ship. They had done so since a grave miscalculation which resulted in the previous ship tearing itself to pieces as a result of engine overload. At the time, they were working side-by-side at the bridge in the science department, when the Captain called all three simultaneously for an analysis on a nearby unidentified quasar. Following the accident, Worpfek was transferred to engineering, Terry to navigation, and Tien to science. Lieutenant Droole, the navigations officer at the time, was transferred to the S.C.S. Stupendous, and demoted for recklessly endangering the crew. Droole testified to the council that he was simply following orders. "Your rank is not Commander," Deux rebutted, quite blandly. 

Roger had never learned of this until after he was transferred from the Deepship. At this point, Droole had already been transferred to a separate quadrant. However, Roger was indeed on board the Commodore, and all of its essential crew was there, right down to Janitor First Class. He took his promotion with great pride and dignity. That was, at least, until Starcon's galaxy-wide Christmas party. After a series of hard beverages, he participated - it is unknown whether it was voluntary or mandatory - in the Deepship 86's rendition of the "Red-shirts of Spamalot". The play received mixed reviews, but was overall a success. Professional reviewers noted that the entire auditorium was laughing after Wilco slipped and kicked a bucket full of soap and water offstage, sending it flying and hitting a fellow crewmate square in the head, giving him a concussion that required two days of sickbay treatment. Needless to say, "Roger kicks the bucket" was not in the script. It may have been said that Roger's flying antics saved the show from disaster - death by badly-done British accents. 


"Janitor Wilco to the bridge, please," the intercom echoed throughout the ship. 

The bridge! Wilco was about to receive an important assignment! 
With trepidation, Wilco dropped his mop and left it lying on the floor of the ship's empty bar. He boarded a nearby turbolift and ascended to the bridge. His adrenaline was rushing. Perhaps he would be sent down to a planet to scan for unknown lifeforms. 

Or perhaps not. Upon entering the bridge, Roger found that no one was there, except for the captain and the navigational officer. The rest of the crew was in their quarters. Captain Deux turned round to see Wilco. "There's a spill in the engineering section. One of the engineers knocked over Commander Worpfek's coffee." 

"Then it can't be that bad," Wilco remarked. 

"Well, it is. Worpfek was drinking Labion Vine Coffee," Captain Deux continued, "and it's extremely corrosive. Prolonged exposure to it could kill a man, quite slowly and painfully. Clean it up without damaging anything important." 

"I'll get right on it, Captain." 

Wilco left the bridge and headed for the engineering bay. 


Engineering was remarkably more dimly lit than the rest of the ship. It was therefore unsurprising that things could get knocked over quite easily. Upon entering the darkened bay, Roger noticed the spill, directly near the bay's main computer console. Producing a handy spray of Mr. Clean from his right pocket, and a disinfecting agent from his left, he applied the two on the puddle of brown muck on the floor. Then, with a mop, he got to work on wiping up the mess. Within minutes, the stains were well-cleaned, almost unnoticeable to a trained eye, and certainly noncorrosive. 

Roger was just preparing to leave until he heard some of the engineers talking to each other regarding the engineering computers. 

"...we need to engage a warp drive maintenance check, but it's just about time for our break..." 

"...but the ship might fail during that time, before somebody gets around to checking it..." 

"...we've been late for WDMCs before, nothing ever went wrong. Why should it now?..." 

"I'm just saying..." 

"...I know, don't worry about it..." 

Then there was silence, and the sound of a turbolift door opening, then silence again. 

This worried Roger. He did not want things to go wrong. Instead, he looked at the main computer console, sat at the nearby chair, and activated the console, which lit up like a - for lack of better words - lightbulb. 

"Starship Class Lightning Engineering and Maintenance Computer Console initialized," a computerized voice stated. "Select a command." 

Roger looked at the console and found a button labelled "WARP MAINT. CHECK". He pressed it. There were several bleeps and boops, and multiple lights within the engineering bay lit up. The hum of electronic equipment built up to a crescendo, and then died away. The lights faded, and the computer console's built-in replicator had produced a cup of Earl Grey tea. "Maintenance check complete, all systems functional and operating at nominal status," the computer announced. 

Roger stood up proudly, and picked up the Earl Grey tea, which he considered - at the spot of the moment - to be a souvenir of his engineering success. Satisfied, he headed for the turbolift, but as he began to leave, he kicked over a bucket of water which he had used to clean up the spill. He tripped, the bucket fell over, and water streamed into the warp drive computer core. His tea went flying backwards, and the cup landed with a smash on the console. 

"Warp Factor Eighteen engaged. Red alert engaged. All hands prepare for warp shock," a robotic voice announced over the intercom. The voice cut out to the panicking voice of the captain, "All hands to damage control stations. Prepare for abandon sequence on my signal. Emergency management teams to engineering bay IMMEDIATELY." 

Wilco looked around. All of the lights in the bay had turned on, and the warp drives were beginning to charge up. He did not want to be spotted - he immediately turned and ran; not for the turbolift, but for a nearby broomcloset. He pulled the door to and watched as the blue-coated emergency teams ran into the room. 

The ship began to vibrate intensely, the warp speed was increasing the exterior temperature of the ship considerably. All of the ship's power, excluding life support, had been directed to boosting the ship to heinous speed. The computer console appeared nonresponsive to the actions of the crewmen. The water seeping into the core had apparently forced into an emergency failsafe maneuver at the current designated speed, which unfortunately happened to be warp eighteen. 

"All hands abandon ship, I repeat, abandon ship," the intercom buzzed and crackled with the captain's voice, then went dead. The emergency teams immediately exited the room, except for an unlucky group of three that fell into the core as a result of the acceleration. The lights had faded out. Objects that were not bolted down were tossed across the engineering room, and those that were began to slowly peel away. The room temperature had increased to a searing sixty degrees Celsius. 

Roger went into shock, and fell unconscious, just as the door of the broomcloset had come off. 


Roger came to, expecting to wake up in the broomcloset. 
Instead, he was in Commander Tien's quarters. Except, Tien wasn't here. He had supposedly abandoned the ship. Logically, Roger could not have ended up here without third party intervention. In reality, the warp had teleported Roger quite spontaneously into another room of the ship. The chances of such an event occuring - astronomical. The odds are considered far greater by warp science that a random teleportation would transport someone into a wall, fixture, or simply outside the ship. This state of being is physically impossible, and the person would no doubt be disintegrated. 

Call it dumb luck. 

Roger noticed that the computers and lights were still operational. He walked over to a computer and queried for a status report. The monitor indicated that life support was functional, all essential systems were working, and the warp drive had been rendered inert by mechanical damage. The fastest speed the ship could attain at this point was standard lite. 

Wilco left the crewman's quarters. The first thing he noticed as he stepped into the hall was that the "escape pod" lights were lit. He knew that the lights would not be engaged unless the escape pods were readily available for use. The crewmen must have failed to abandon the ship! That means that most of them would either be on board, living or dead. Continuing further down the hallway, he noted that the turbolift was still operable. He manned the lift to the bridge. Surprisingly, all computers were still active, but - as expected - the bridge was completely empty. It would only be a matter of time before it filled up, however, if some of the crewmen did survive. 

Then, as Roger stepped out into the bridge and took his seat at the navigational helm, the turbolift opened again. He spun round to see... another janitor. 

"Dumb luck, Mr. Wilco. It's a janitor thing," he smiled as he stepped out into the bridge. "Runs in our blood and our bones," he continued, flexing his arms. 

"Did you see anyone on your way up here?" Wilco asked. 

"Why, no, I do not believe I have. But then again, I came directly from the engineering bay," he replied. He looked around. "Odd, how did I end up..." 

"Perhaps we were teleported?" Roger mused, eliciting a hearty laugh from his janitor counterpart, who sat down at the captain's chair. 

"It looks like I'm captain now, Mr. Wilco." 

The captain's ready room door opened. Captain Jimmy Deux was standing in the doorway. "I think not, Mr. Caius. Remove yourself from my chair." Sulking, the janitor stood to attention. "Roger Wilco, please accompany me to my ready room." 

"How did you get here, Captain?" Wilco asked, wishing a second later that he hadn't. 

"I teleported into the Sickbay's patient restroom." 


"Mr. Wilco, I am gathering information regarding the shipwide disaster. Two-hundred thirty men are missing, and a hundred more are dead. I have lost two of my commanders. Practically, I would give the position of commander to my lieutenant commanders, but they too are dead or missing. In fact, the entire chain of command in this ship has been lapsed." 

Roger said nothing. 

"It has come to my attention that you were the former captain of the S.C.S. Eureka, and for a brief period of time, the S.C.S. Goliath." 

Again, Roger did not speak, but the fact that Deux had mentioned those milestones in his StarCon life set off a klaxon in his brain. 

"I am a firm believer in the philosophy - 'once a captain, always a captain.' I will gladly assign you to the task of being my first officer... if you so desire." 

A pause. 

"Of course, this does mean that you will take on loads of responsibilities. However, they should not be foreign to you, especially with the experience that you have had." 

Roger was thinking about it. 

"If you have no objection, Mr. Wilco, I will gladly use my authority to promote you to the rank of Commander, First Officer of the S.C.S. Commodore. What do you say?" 

"I accept!" Roger chirped, almost spontaneously. 

"Good. Report to your station, Commander Wilco, and set in a course for StarCon Conference Point 3-0-0." 

"But, sir, I checked the computers, we're only capable of standard lite speed..." 

"Are you already weary of your new assignment, Mr. Wilco?" 

"No, of course not." 


Captain Deux seated himself at the helm of the bridge, activated the intercom, and inquired for all crewmembers to report status. Sixty-seven crew members responded over the intercom. The crew was stretched rather thin; there was barely enough to maintain engineering and maintenance simultaneously. The crew only had one janitor on duty - that janitor was not Roger Wilco. A series of complaints started to come in about the sloth of the current janitor, Billy Caius, and how they desired Roger back. But this was not possible now; he had a job to do. They had to get to the StarCon Conference Point for assistance. 

"Navigation, maximum speed and thrust. Course is G6-39929-B130," Captain Deux issued. Roger complied, entered the coordinates in via computer, and keyed in the highest speed possible under the ship's current warp condition. He pulled the navigational gearstick towards him to accelerate the ship. The ship immediately shot off. 

In the wrong direction. 

"Switch off reverse gear, you fool," the captain barked, "and go FORWARD!" 

Roger, realizing he had made a rather crucial mistake, pushed the gearstick forward as the captain had asked. 

"Have you ever piloted a Lightning Class starship before, Mr. Wilco?" 

"No, sir, just StarCon Standard Shuttle and Aluminum Mallard. Oh, and that one shuttle back on Labion..." 

"Well, as every moron should know, forward on the gearstick means accelerate forward, and vice versa. Bring the ship to a stop and try again." 

Roger stopped the ship by pulling the stick back. Then he waited, and pushed it forward. The ship yawed over sixty degrees. Beverages flew out of their cup holders and into the viewscreen. 

"Roger, you're pushing on the wrong joystick. That throttle controls the yaw, you dimwit. Pull that one back and bring the ship back." 

Roger did so. The ship was now going in reverse. 

"Do you know what left and right hands are, Commander Wilco? Left joystick controls speed, right joystick controls yaw. Remember that, now. If you need further practice, we have an ancient gaming console downstairs..." 

"I'm fine, Captain, I have it now." 

"Then get to the Conference Point!" 

"Right away." 

After what seemed like forever, Roger yawed the ship back, and then pushed the left throttle forward, towards its destination. 

"Lock in cruise control, and meet in my ready room. We'll discuss our next mission," the captain said, standing up and leaving the bridge. 


"The S.C.S. Commodore is a galactic warship designed specifically for combat and tactical maneuvering. However, it is designed to hold a crew of four-hundred. Obviously, we are three-hundred short and wouldn't have enough to manage weapons, engineering, navigational, medical, and maintenance simultaneously. We'll pick up extra crew at StarCon Conference Point 3-0-0. At the same time, we'll fix our warp drive so we can get to other parts of the universe. 

"Our flagship is the S.C.S. Goliath III, and we'll be tailing that until we reach our designated sector. Target: ScumSoft Empire. Their CEO has waged war on StarCon, and we'll stop their empire dead in their tracks with an appropriate fleet of fifteen battlecruisers. This ship is fully armed with proton torpedoes, neutron beams, explosive incendinary torpedoes, auxiliary phasers, and - our favorite - the death ray. Any target within point-blank range of the Commodore will be vaporized no matter what. And you ought to see it sometime, it's a beauty to watch them explode like fireworks. 

"Your job is navigating the ship. The dual-joystick system will be hard to get used to. But you better get used to it, because once we get into combat, we're going to need it if we're going to have a chance with the death ray. The Scumsoft ships can withstand sixty proton torpedo shells each before the shields even begin to give. If things get ugly, you'll have to fire those weapons. See how hard it is being a commander?" 

Roger nodded. 

"Your job is done for the moment, so head to your quarters. Get out of those ugly janitor duds, too, and take this purple Commander's outfit." 

It hit Roger once more - he was no longer a janitor, but a commander. Quite a drastic change, perhaps something that he will never be able to get over.