SPACE: THE FINAL FRONTIER. THESE ARE THE VOYAGES OF THE WWF TITANPRIZE. IT'S MISSION: TO EXPLORE AND ENTERTAIN NEW SOCIETIES AND NEW CIVILIZATIONS.  TO BOLDLY GO WHERE NO WRESTLER HAS GONE BEFORE!

TITANPRIZE CREW:

Captain Vince McMahon
First Officer, Commander Jericho (Unit Y2J)
Chief Engineer, Commander Stephanie McMahon
Chief of Chiefs, Commander Linda McMahon
Chief of Security, Commander Kane
Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Taker
Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Commander Austin
Transporter Chief, Lieutenant Commander Debra
Communications Officer, Lieutenant Commander Rock
Counselor Al Snow (assisted by H.E.A.D.)

... And many more!

WWF TITANPRIZE - CAPTAIN'S READY ROOM

    "Captain's log, stardate 01120.01. I have spoken to Dr. Taker about his behaviour regarding Lt. Commander Rock, and Custodian Maven. I have also spoken to him about his blantant unprofessionlism regarding Ensign Jeff Hardy. He listened to my words with an amused smirk on his face, explaining that he was merely showing Rock, Maven, and Hardy how to RESPECT him.  I fear Dr. Taker is veering out of control. Even Nurse Bearer cannot seem to handle the man. I can't help but feel this has happened before. That Dr. Taker has a history of unprovoked violence..." McMahon shook his head, "I wonder who could possibly reign him in..."

    McMahon looked at the clock on his desk. 14:00h. It was time for the weekly meeting. He quickly ended his log, and headed out.

    The polished marble weathered phaser burns, jagged cracks, deep, slashing cuts, and chipping by lead pipe and steel chair. It was amazing that most senior staff meetings didn’t report more casualities.

    Nobody here much liked each other. Old grudges died hard and took a few people down with them. Hostile, suspicious stares snuck back and forth. No one let their hand stray far from a weapon.

    "Remorseless pig." The Chief of Engineers muttered under her breath, taking her seat.

    "Scuzzy slut." First Officer Chris Jericho said cheerfully.

    Stephanie’s eyes bored into him like two hot blue lazers. They only seemed to fuel the smirk on his face.

    The Captain stifled a sigh. He was so disappointed in his daughter. Stephie sat across from a hero, a model officer, and she treated him as crudely as a clumsy cadet. She’d never been a shrewd judge of character; smart girls didn’t marry leeching apes like Hunter Hearst Helmsley.

    Dr. Taker sat at the other end of the table, his lips twisted in detached amusement at god only knew what. Everyone carefully looked at points unknown around him, and Vince didn’t blame them. You only looked into those bottomless pit-eyes once and then never again. A mere glance drew out the ghosts hidden in your brain.

    McMahon still felt rubbed raw by the scolding he’d given to the chief medical officer. The dark doctor hadn’t uttered a damn word, but the captain knew he was being laughed at, knew the dead man would cut open any ensign he pleased, keeping them awake while he sliced away just for kicks and giggles. Taker would beat respect and vengeance into civilians and lieutenant commanders alike at his leisure. Vince could swallow it smooth or choke on it.

    The Dead Man didn’t care.

    The doors swooshed open and the Communications Chief strolled in, five minutes late.

    "Tick tock, Crock, tick tock. " Y2J said mockingly. "My time is too valuable to waste waiting on a prima donna like you."

    "The-" Rock paused. "I apologize, Commander. It won’t happen again."

    Even Kane was stunned into speaking. "Don’t you mean, The Rock apologizes?" he asked gravely.

    "Where in the bl-blessed lord were you raised, you big red retard?" The Maivian said peevishly. "Good grammer is no joke."

    "Bravo." Regal offered a polite golf clap.

    "Er, before we all give our section reports and short lists of potential lieutenants, let’s have some refreshments." It was McMahon’s experience that men rarely argued when slightly buzzed. "Terri?"

    "Beer!" Austin bellowed at the chief of bartenders. "What? I said get me a damn beer woman!"

    Terri’s eyes narrowed as she moved onto Rock. "Sir?"

    "Why don’t you walk on over to that replicator there and get the- me, a nice big glass of….."

    Terri sucked in her breath. Don’t even…..

    "…of orange juice." Rock smiled pleasantly.

    Vince coughed. "Uh, I assume you’re fully recovered from your unfortunate head injury, Lt. Commander?"

    "Only man I ever met with a blank catscan." Taker said softly. Contemptuous snickers made the rounds; even Stephanie and the robot chuckled.

    "I’m ready to assume my role at the comm." Rock kept his gaze on the captain. "Which I know very well."

    McMahon blinked. He was lost in this sea of first person speech. "Do you remember how we were going to discuss improving the Titanprize’s initial hails to alien ships out here in deep space? Perhaps it would be more tactful not to refer to new species as "jabronis" and "hermies."

    "Ja-what?" Rock snorted. "Hermies? What? Which juvenile ensign has sullied the good name of Wrestlefleet with such grade school stupidity? I’ll lay-"

    The other senior officers were exchanging wide-eyed expressions and murmuring among themselves. Didn’t they agree such an Ensign should be punished?

    "I’ll lay a demotion on their permanent record so fast their heads will spin!" The People’s Lt. Commander declared.

    "I think we’ll postpone this meeting until tomorrow." Vince said hastily, gathering up the stack of padds in front of him. "Report to Dr. Piro immediately for a follow-up check-up, Rocky. Get some rest."

    "What do you make of that?" Stephanie whispered, dazed as she and Jericho squeezed through the door together.

    "What do I make of that?" Chris said, arching an eyebrow. "I make that we should find the lead pipe the good doctor Taker bashed Rock over his thick skull with, dip it in holy water, and put it on an altar to worship at. That thing has wrought an undisputed miracle!"

    "Dr. Taker?" Stephanie echoed. "Are you nuts? He heals people. He doesn’t bitch slap them with blunt objects."

    Jericho laughed, a laugh that cut through her. "He’s a sick puppy, little one. Doesn’t your father ever share anything with you?’

    Stephanie’s ears burned as the android walked away, still relishing his quaint little joke. Oh I get it, Chris, I get it loud and clear.

    Her dear old daddy has just replaced one slimy weasel with another and left his baby girl out in the cold!

    Dr. Taker offered Stephanie a cold smile as he walked past her. She shivered under his gaze. Yes, the dark doctor DID creep her out... but was the man really as sick as Jericho claimed he was? Stephanie refused to believe it.

WWF TITANPRIZE - CHIEF MEDICAL OFFICER'S QUARTERS (2 hous later)

   "Chief Medical Officer's personal log, stardate 112220.01  Prior to our weekly meeting, McMahon took it upon himself to reprimand me for operating on young Ensign Jeff Hardy without anethesia. Of course, not much Vince could do about it. The Titanprize is my yard, and McMahon knows that. I just LET him command it," Dr. Taker smiled coldly, "That punk Maven, and Lt. Commander Rock paid for sticking their noses in my business. I wonder if THEY were watching - the ones who pretend to spy on me every so often. Stupid sons of bitches. They probably already regret giving me my little 'gifts' when I returned to my... what the hell did they call it? My 'mortal soil'?"

    Taker fingered the tattoo across his throat. Four letters that had meant something to him... once, "Sometimes I wonder if those gifts were more of a curse," he spoke, "Ain't never done me a damn bit of good. Not where SHE was concerned anyway..." he stopped, and quickly deleted the last paragraph. It would do no good for anyone to see that should they accidentally hack into his private logs. He didn't know who'd be stupid enough to tempt his wrath, but one could never be sure.

    "End log..."

    Dr. Taker sat on his couch, and allowed his thoughts to travel.

    And travel they did. To the day he first met HER...

PLANET DAYTROAIT, MISHOGUN CLINIC - 14 YEARS AGO

Stardate: 112219.87

    "Emergency patient, Doc," A young intern known as Ro spoke as he lead Dr. U. Taker behind the curtains in the emergency room. A girl lay on a gurny unconscious. She looked to be in her twenties. Only a few years younger then Dr. Taker.

    "What happened?" Taker asked in his usual dark tones.

    "Mugging," Ro spoke, "Broken arm. Nasty little bump on the head..."

    "Simple injuries. Couldn't you have taken care of it, boy?" Taker asked, then noticed that even in her unconsious state, the woman's face still contorted in pain, "Never hear of pain killers, Ro?" Taker asked

    "Sorry, sir... I... I didn't think of it..." Ro replied.

    Dr. Taker studied Ro. There was something about this young intern that just didn't sit right with Taker. First rule in WrestleFleet medical -- make your patients as comfortable as possible! Ro seemed to enjoy watching his patients suffer.

    Although Taker would admit he took pleasure in such a thing himself once in a while. He wondered if the boy was more like him then he wanted to admit. "Move your stank ass and get me a damn hypospray, son!"

    "Yes sir!" Ro replied, and headed off to get the pain killer. The intern seemed to take his time looking through the various hyposprays, but eventually found the one he was looking for and handed it to the doctor. Taker entered the drug into the woman's system. She looked less pained now. Taker set her arm and took care of the ugly bruises that had blossomed over her otherwise pleasant face. He then headed back to his desk to go through the various files that he had yet to open.

    Now where had that emergency patient's file gone to?

WWF TITANPRIZE – THE SMACKDOWN (PRESENT STARDATE)

    "Where in the name of awesomeness were you this afternoon, dear brother?" Oh yes, the big ass sunglasses were gone; Christian wanted Edge to see the fury blazing in his greenish eyes. "Two o’clock? Holodeck 9? I left the message pinned to your mirror where you SO could not miss it!"

    "I’m good enough to speak to now, eh?" Edge said mildly. "Now that Heyman is reeking of criminality? Now that Shane O’Mac has been demoted lower than Stephanie McMahon’s panties on a Friday night? I’m flattered."

    "Blood is thicker than water." Christian said haughtily, slamming his syntheol on the table so foam dribbled onto Edge’s scattering of ponderous looking Wrestlefleet tomes.

    "And your skull." Edge muttered, snatching his books out of the flood. "I didn’t see any note because I combed my hair in the shower and didn’t check the mirror before I left, okay? What’s your damage?"

    Didn’t check the mirror? Had the Edgester been dipping into RVD’s locker? "My damage?" The younger Kanatian bit his trembling lower lip. "My DAMAGE? I wanted my big brother to play hockey with me! Why don’t you like me anymore?"

    "Like you?" Edge hissed. "My god, who do you think pulled your bacon out of the fire? Have you gone totally toolshed? Can you possibly even comprehend the alibis I had to invent to keep your butt out of jail?"

    "You owed me that much." Christian said insolently. Ever since Captain McMahon had announced there would be a single lieutenants star up for grabs, Edge had stuck his pointy nose in his books and never looked up. He didn’t even stand up for poor, persecuted Christian when people spread ugly rumors that he was a traitor!

    "I think I’ve paid in full." Edge said coldly. He made a point of checking his watch. "Oops, you’re fifteen minutes of fame as Edge’s brother has just run out. Bug off. I need this promotion to get our family’s honour back."

    "Our honourable family consisted of serving wenches and fools in some royal reekazoid’s court, bro!" Christian smoldered with quiet rage. "Or do you only recall that phony sissified little tiara you pranced around with? King Edge!"

    The elder brother ignored his sibling’s sneer. "Why are you wasting time here, Christian? Shane’s successor is on the Bridge. Better get some extra lip gloss for that frosty titanium ass of Jericho’s."

    Impulsively, Christian reached out and sprayed his brother’s padds and pages all over the carpeting. "Ha!"

    Edge calmly pretended his kid brother hadn’t just done that. They were already getting enough furtive stares without him taking this childish bait.

    "Pay attention to me!" Christian stomped one foot on the floor, pouting. "All you care about is your stupid career! What about me! I’m more important! Me, me, ME!"

    Edge’s face paled. What was this totally uncool heinosity? Other ensigns, even those drunken Nytron scumsuckers, were pointing and giggling. Christian was jumping up and done in a full blown tempremental body heave. "Stop it! You’re a Wrestlefleet officer! You’re embarrassing us!"

    "I-don’t-care!" Dear sweet awesomeness, did his thumb just slip into his mouth? "They always look at you! Edge is the center of the universe! Edge is so popular, handsome, and chairalicious! Edge, Edge, Edge! I hate you! I wish you were never born!"

    "Don’t make me take you over my knee!" Oh lord, what was he saying?

    "I wanna be the favourite!" Christian wailed. "I want the shiny star! If you don’t let me be lieutenant, I’ll, I’ll-I WILL QUIT!"

    Edge looked down at his brother with a mixture of pity and horror as he hastily scooped up his study materials. He couldn’t be associated with this! Spearing his way through the laughing, dancing, mocking crowd, the Kanatian felt hot tears stinging his eyes. They were all jeering at his baby brother and he hated it, but-

    "Watch where the bloody hell you’re going, lad!"

    Too late, Edge stumbled clumsily into Personnel Commish Regal full force, a sickening crunch filling the space between them as a padd collided with the Brit’s ample sniffer.

    "Reprimand me later, dude." Edge said impatiently. "I have got to get out of here!"

    "Pardon me?" William smartly unfolded the silk kerchief he kept nattily tucked in a suit pocket and caught the blood pouring from his nose. "Why does it not surprise me that the bastard children of England have no couth? This is why we sent you Kanatians to your own little galaxy. You have all the manners of a brain-damaged farm goat!"

    "Uhhh…" Edge furrowed his brow. "I guess I could….help you here if you’d…you know…speak English…or something?"

    "How dare you mock the Queen’s tongue!" Regal roared.

    "Hey," Edge held his hands up in a gesture of appeasement. "What you and the Queen do in your spare time is your own business!"

    "She is a lady beyond reproach!" The commissioner retorted, cheeks on fire. "You’ll report to my office at 0500 hours tomorrow and be my new gopher. I need an Ensign who will put his nose to the grindstone, or in your case, it looks like your teeth could use a right proper whittling down!"

    Well, well, well, Mister Regal had just crossed the line no man crossed with Ensign Edge. "If I wanted to lose some teeth, I might consider adopting English standards of dental hygiene."

    "Bloody fool." William’s voice became chillingly quiet as he removed the sticky napkin from his broken nose. An odd glaze coated his eyes. "I must warn you, Master Edge, that you’re about to wake a very angry beast. My British ancestors were warriors and savages when the curtain of civility was raised. It is unwise to poke an enraged animal, for he shall most certainly bite."

    "Did you get a hold of some bad clotted cream, sconehead?"

    "You’re merely a boy, sunshine. No real man would throw the gauntlet down before an opponent they could not defeat."

    "I’m sure you intimidate the sheep you shag, but not moi," Edge pushed past the bleeding commissioner and fled from the sound of his brother’s sobs.

    Regal could not flee from the crude cackling of the APA, who were clinking their beer bottles together in celebration of Edge’s obscene joke.

    Vengeance, William decided, was best served in the form of a cold hard knuckle sandwich!

    The coppery taste in his mouth reminded Regal he would need to seek the services of Dr. Taker, a kindred spirit who understood the pleasures of disciplining ensigns at the scalpel's edge, if Vince's mutterings could be believed…..

    Taker eyed the scalpel in his hand. He looked across the room at Dr. Piro, who was tending to an ex-Nytron. How he longed to drive that scalpel into the skeletal doctor's chest...

    "Hello?" a voice called out as it entered Sickbay.  It was Personnel Commissioner Regal, "Dr. Taker? If you don't mind... I have an emergency that needs tending too..."

    Dr. Taker sighed. Everyone always seemed to have an emergency... everyone...

PLANET DAYTROAIT, MISHOGUN CLINIC - STARDATE: 112219.87

    "Hello?" a quiet voice croaked. Dr. Taker didn't bother looking up at the sound. The voice grew slightly louder, "Hello? Doc?"

    Dr. Taker sighed and turned around to see his emergency patient standing a few feet away, her arm in a sling, "What is it?" he snapped.

    "Are you the doctor here?" she asked.

    "What do YOU think?" he replied with a frown, "You think I just sit here and go through files for no damn reason?" he indicated his desk and the stack of paperwork that sat on top of it.

    "Well, excuse me!" She replied, annoyed,  "Not exactly the best beside manner you got there, doc," she muttered. "I don't suppose MY file is there? Under C? My first name is Sara,"

    "I have other files to go through now. Get back to your cubicle and I'll get to you when I'm ready," he replied, then turned back to his desk.

    Sara didn't budge, "Listen, doc. I'm in a rush here. And since I seem to be the only patient actually AWAKE, can you fill me in on what the heck happened to me?"

    "Mugging," was all Dr. Taker said.

    "I KNOW that. Bastard took my WALLET! What happened injury-wise? Broken arm, obviously, but anything else? I have a headache. Concussion?"

    "If headache automatically equalled concussion, I'd be brain-damaged right now! Get back to your cubicle!" Dr. Taker wasn't used to people ignoring his orders. Once he gave them, he expected them to be obeyed, no questions asked. This one, however, had lots of questions. Too many questions, if you asked him.

    "What is your problem?" she asked, "You're supposed to be helping and healing, not pissing off and annoying!"

    Annoying? Did this mere mortal woman DARE call HIM annoying?!

 Dr. Taker stood up and stalked towards her, but she stood her ground.... then the pain killer wore off and she grabbed her broken arm, her knees buckling with the pain.  Taker scowled and looked around for Nurse Bearer or Ro, but neither where in sight.  Taker sighed and reluctantly helped the girl back to her bed, not happy at all to make physical contact with her. This was beneath him!

    Obviously this girl would be more trouble then she was worth.

WWF TITANPRIZE – DECK 10 – CREW’S QUARTERS (PRESENT STARDATE)

    "Bang!"

    For a surreal second, the corridor was raining padds and Wrestlefleet text books. Breathing hard, Ensign Jeff Hardy clutched at his heart to make sure it hadn’t jumped out of his throat. "Damn you, Van Dam. Cut it out!"

    "What a wuss!" Rob chuckled and cocked his thumbs at the Aerialian.

    "Are you going to thumb wrestle me to death or something?" Ensign Hardy hoped RVD would get bored quickly and go away. Swallowing hard, he wondered if the hotshot pilot had seen him limping.

    "Victory ain’t so sweet when you kick the crap out of someone who spends more time in the ring posing like a supermodel instead of pulling wrestling moves out of their bony ass."

    Jeff felt himself shrinking under Van Damn’s withering, scornful stare. "This is an extreme hand gesture." He cocked the pointy guns at his tormenter. "Thumbs ruin the artistic flow."

    Rob shook his head in disgust. "Check this out." He dramatically turned his thumbs inward, punctuating his words with a well-placed point. "I-am-R-V-D. See how it emphasizes my greatness? Then again…" His eyes swept critically over Jeff. "You call enough attention to yourself. I’d point away."

    Ensign Hardy glowered at him. "Why are you wearing a ceremonial dagger? Are you mocking me?"

    "I’m Aerialian, dumbass." Van Damn said. "Surely you noticed that when I was pounding your face into the mat a week ago. Maybe you didn’t recognize me cause I’m not from the cow pastures of Aerialia and don’t go around saying ‘kiss my grits y’all’ and don’t have that carnival freakshow hair."

    Jeff’s anger was only magnified as he knew his mood-ring mop was flushing deep furious crimson.

    "Studying to be a lieutenant?" Van Dam chuckled as he strolled down the hall. "Guess you’ll be doing double time under     Stephanie’s sheets, if she’ll do it with some broken squeak toy."

    "I didn’t do her!" Jeff yelled after him. "Aaaaargh!" Oh who cared anyways. People only said that to piss him off, and he played their stupid game every time. He gingerly bent over to retrieve his things, only to double over in agony.

    "Let me help you with that, Ensign." Rock smoothly began picking up the mess and sorting it all into neat piles while Jeff slowly uncoiled himself.

    "Don’t you mean, "Let the Rock help your roody poo candy ass?"

    Rock sighed. "I can see Commissioner Regal will need to start giving grammar and vocabulary lessons. Listen, I’m doing a survey to see which weapons we should retain and which we should dispose of. With a coup recently thwarted by the heroic Chris Jericho, I feel it’s important to arm our crew in the way that makes them most comfortable."

    "The sharpshooter sucks. It’s unwieldy, ineffective, and looks just plain idiotic. Whoever uses it looks like they never handled a submission weapon before in their life."

    "I feel the youth of Wrestlefleet have a lot to offer, and I want their input." Rock handed him his padds, nodding approvingly. "Now, go on, what else do you think?"

    "Er, you want the opinion of a midcard officer?"

    "Tell the-me what you think, son."

    "I think…." Jeff paused and took a fearful step back.

    "You Aerialians are a strange lot." Rock said, amused. "Don’t you Ensigns realizes you’re the future of Wrestlefleet and it does matter what you think?"

    "It’s just that…sir, I should tell you that the scorpion that bit you was mine. I apologize. It caused a lot of trouble."

    "Nah." The comm officer waved him off. "The-I love nature, all animals, all species."

    "Especially llamas and monkey’s, right?" Jeff wondered if they’d been invaded by pod people while he’d been napping.

    The Miavian looked slightly baffled. "Don’t know what you crazy kids did back on that farm on Aerialia, but the-I don’t have any…preferences. I haven’t hit rock bottom yet! Get back to me with an opinion, please."

    "Aye, sir."

    The Rock nodded and walked on. He was somewhat surprised to find Stone Cold Steve Austin sitting on a cold, wet cooler further down the hallway, trying to cram a few six-packs into yet another cooler.

    "The little woman throw you out again, Austin?"

    "What?" The Rattlesnake’s eyes spat pure venom as he looked up.

    "I asked-"

    Steve sprang to his feet. "Shut up! What! Let me tell you a little story! Would you like to hear a story? What? Guess what I did today?"

    "I have no-"

    "I drank a beer. Then guess what I did."

    "Um-"

    "I drank another beer!" Austin said. "And another and another and another and what! And another! Guess what I’m gonna do now, you dumb son of a bitch?"

    Goodness. How feisty. "Drink-"

    "I am gonna drink more beer on the Bridge if I can get this damn thing packed! What? I need to stuff it full of Steveweisers. What? I’ve got to make the cans of alcohol conform to the square space of this here cooler. What!"

    "It’s clearly very simple, Austin." Rock said calmly. Damn, didn’t the man have an original catchphrase kicking around that liquor addled brain? "Take them there six packs-"

    "What?"

    "Turn them sumbitches sideways-"

    "Watch it." Steve growled.

    "Might want to shine em up reeeeal nice-"

    "What?"

    "And shove them straight-"

    "I’m warning you!"

    "Into that cooler." Rock cocked his eyebrow at the bald tactical expert. "What in the bl…blue heavens did you think I was going to say?"

    "Chief Medical Officer's log, stardate 112520.01.  It seems Lt. Commander Rock as been acting overly polite lately -- most likely from the beating I gave his stank ass," he let out a harsh laugh, "What does Captain McMahon think of me now?  Has he realized I deserve respect yet?"

    He paused. It wasn't Captain McMahon's opinion he found himself concerned about. It was HERS.

   But then, why the hell did it matter what she thought of him? She was gone! He had only wished she had been gone SOONER. He would have done well if her first visit had been her last.

    Unfortunately, the doctor had not been that lucky...

PLANET DAYTROAIT, MISHOGUN CLINIC - STARDATE: 031019.87

    Dr. Taker frowned to see who had entered his clinic again. It was that same girl, Sara. Her arm was healed, but she seemed to be stepping gingerly as she walked.

    Sara smiled  triumphantly as she saw him, "Got it back!"

    Dr. Taker furrowed his brow, "What the hell is your stank ass talking about?"

    Her smile didn't waver, "Got my wallet back!"

    "I don't give a damn. What the hell happened to you THIS time?"

    "Well, I had to fight to get it back!" she replied. She motioned to the cubicle beside her, surrounded by drapes, "He's in there,"

    Taker raised an eyebrow, and looked in the next cubicle. Sure enough, a man lay there with a black eye, giving Ro a hard time and ranting about an insane 7-foot monster of a woman who attacked him from behind.  Taker looked back to Sara. The girl was no more then 5'4!

    The dark doctor was truly amused for the first time in his grim life... but realized that this would not be the last he saw of her. And he was right.  She was back a few weeks later after fighting off ANOTHER mugger and spraining her wrist in the process. Personally, Taker was getting sick of tending to her and her would-be attackers.

    Perhaps it was time the woman learned how to fight WITHOUT taking a beating in the process.

    Against his better judgment, he offered to teach her.

    "Why are you wasting your time on this?" Ro asked him a few days later when Dr. Taker had informed the intern that he would be indisposed for a few hours.

    "Do YOU want to tend to that girl day in and day out? My clinic ain't a damned hotel!" Taker replied.

    Ro raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure that's all it is?" he asked.

    Taker eyed the young intern, "And what would your stank ass be implying, son?"

    "Maybe you LIKE spending your spare time with a pretty woman?" Ro asked, "You've been alone for a long time. Now finally this spunky woman shows up who ISN'T completely repulsed by you, and you fall so easily!" He smirked, "Not that I can blame you... I wouldn't mind teaching her a few things myself..." his smirk faded, his face growing hard, "But you've gone SOFT, Taker. Soft... and WEAK!"

    That was all Dr. Taker needed to hear. He slapped Ro across the mouth and grabbed the man by the throat, "And when the hell did you become such an expert on ME, son? You don't know a damned thing!" Taker offered a cold scowl, "You have NO idea what you're dealing with, boy!"

    Ro smiled through his gasps, "But I do, don't I, doctor?"

    Taker glared into the man's eyes. What was going on here? Why was this intern as cold as death itself? If Taker didn't know any better, he would say Ro seemed downright evil. A cold, calclating mind in a human body. A mind that could destroy with a thought. Death and destruction lived in these eyes. Nothing resembling humanity, not that Dr. Taker was one to talk. He wasn't one for humanity himself. But Dr. Taker had seen this man in action. Had seen how much pleasure he took in causing undue pain to his patients.

    Of course, once in a while, Taker could be a bit vengeful himself... especially if he disliked his patient, or something else had made him angry.

    "Go on... kill me, Taker! Kill me!" Ro taunted, "Snap my neck! DO IT!" Taker squeezed tighter still...

    "Doc?" a voice called from the door. Taker turned to see Sara. She looked confused, and somewhat frightened at the scene before her, "What's going on?" she asked..

    Taker didn't answer. He turned back to Ro, "Get the hell out of my sight!" the doctor hissed, tossing Ro aside.

    Ro jumped to his feet easily and smirked as he walked past Sara, eyeing her with great interest. For some reason, Dr. Taker didn't like that. He didn't like it at all. "I'm sure I'll see you around," Ro replied.

    Sara watched the intern leave, then turned to Taker, "What was THAT all about?"

    "Nothing!" He snapped.

    Sara put a hand up defensively, "Ok. I won't ask,"

    "What do you want?" Taker demanded.

    "Umm... we had a lesson?"

    Dr. Taker took a deep breath, and reluctantly began the lesson.

WWF TITANPRIZE – DECK 6 – COUNSELOR AL SNOW’S OFFICE (PRESENT STARDATE)

    "Counselor Snow is currently teaching a lesson now. What is the nature of your emergency, Lieutenant Commander?" Michael Cole asked politely, his lazer pen poised between his fingers.

    Rock absent-mindedly rubbed the back of his head, his fingers prodding the rigid scar under his dark hair. The last thing he remembered about that mysterious evening, before everyone started acting funny, was a sharp blow to his skull, darkness, cold…and waking up in his own bed shivering and bleeding onto a pillow. Who had just brought it to the-him? Maybe Al Snow could unlock the memories.

    "What are you staring at, Cole?" he demanded irritably.

    "Nothing!" Cole hurriedly started shuffling papers and padds, blushing hard. "I swear to god I don’t find you attractive, sir!"

    Rock blinked. "I’ll certainly sleep better at night…I think." Freak.

    The People’s Comm Officer stared curiously at the door to Snow’s inner sanctum. Strange noises bounced off the walls, thuds and thumps and the sounds of bodies slapping against canvas.

    "I don’t mean to pry, but that’s not some new form of therapy, is it?"

    "No." Cole seemed afraid to move his eyes away from the surface of his desk. "As I said, Counselor Snow is in a lesson. He's teaching Maven self–defense." A blank stare from Rock. "He’s a custodian aboard the Titanprize. Got jumped in Sickbay-I-I need to know my role and shut my mouth now."

    "If you say so." The Maivian rose respectfully as Al emerged, sweaty and breathing hard. A bruised, stiff looking young man followed him, but he didn’t seem unhappy to be as battered as he was. Rock felt a twinge of unease as he gazed upon that open honest face; he’d not met this Maven character before, yet somehow Rock knew he was familiar…it was the same little knot in his gut that had been tied when he’d helped Jeff…..

    It was like staring at all these crazy puzzle pieces that should fit together, but his mind couldn’t arrange them…..

    "How can I help you, Lt. Commander?" Snow feared this day would come, so did the rest of the crew. "You’re dismissed, Maven."

    The boy practically fled from the room, and Rock shuddered. Maven….

    The comm chief took a deep breath. "I want to remember who bashed my skull in, Al. I want my memories back. People are treating me like I’m defective somehow. It ain’t normal."

    Al nodded solemnly. He was about to walk a fine ethical line here….he was about to open the great gaping maw into catchphrase hell and release the demons.

    Everyone had demons, Taker thought... though he wondered if theirs were as close to the surface as his was. His memories haunted him. Memories he'd rather not have. Memories that ended in violence and death.

    Memories that reminded him of the one thing he wished he had not lost...

PLANET DAYTROAIT, MISHOGUN CLINIC - STARDATE: 082219.88

    After months of training together, Taker and Sara had grown close. Closer then the doctor had been with any other living person - including his own parents and Nurse Bearer. He had become protective of her and began to realize that there was still a bit of humanity inside him. That he had not grown completely cold over the years.

    He didn't like it.

    "Doc?" Sara asked when she notice Taker had stopped walking. He seemed to be staring at her intently, as if there ws a great weight on his mind. Her voice became softer, "Doc? What's wrong?"

    Before she recieved an answer, however, a disrupter appeared beside her... held by the same mugger who had attacked her all those months ago and first brought her to Mishogun Clinic.

    "Fancy meeting you again," the man spoke, then looked at the doctor, "Now don't try anything funny! You see, me and the woman got some unfinished business here. Try anything, and she gets a lovely new facelift," the man held out his hand, "Gimme your wallet, babe. It's time you paid my hospital bills!"

    "She won't pay," Taker spoke.

    "How about you just shut up? Ain't a damn thing you can do about it anyway!"

    "Is that so?" Dr. Taker asked, and before the man could fire the disrupter, the doctor grabbed the man by the neck, lifting him off the ground. Taker narrowed his eyes, and glared at the would-be attack.  "I don't suppose you want to TEST that theory...  would you, little boy?" the doctor hissed coldly.  "If you get off on violence, then I'm sure I could make things VERY interesting for you!" he smirked coldly.

    The man's eyes went wide with fear. The doctor wasn't kidding, and he knew it! "Wha -- what the hell! You're.... you're INSANE!"

   Taker tightened his grip around the man's neck. "You didn't answer my question! Want me to make things interesting for you? Want that I should kick your stank-ass back to Earth?"

    "No! No man! I'm sorry! I.... I didn't mean it! I'm sorry!" he gasped, "I won't... I won't do nothing ever again! I'll... I'll turn myself in! I swear!" He looked at Sara pleadingly, silently begging her to do something.

    Sara smiled sweetly, "Cross your heart and hope to die?" she asked.

    He nodded, "I promise!"

    Taker looked at Sara. For some reason, she trusted that this thief would keep his word. He seemed too scared to do otherwise. Sara nodded, and Taker let the man go, pointing to the WrestleFleet-issue hovercraft down the street. The man immediately ran to it and allowed the officer inside to take him away.

    "You're suddenly my guardian angel or something?" Sara joked lightly.

    The doctor let out a harsh laugh, "Hardly! Do you see ANYTHING in me resembling an ANGEL?” he asked, “Most people see only darkness when they look at me... like your friend over there!” he indicated the mugger who had turned himself in.

    Sara grabbed his arm and forced him to face her, “I see a lot of things when I look at you. I see how much you help people despite your claims to detest it. I see how much you've been through, how you've seen places that no normal man will ever see... ” Taker tried to digest her words. Odd. This woman saw him in a way he couldn't even see HIMSELF!

    He wondered if she could teach him to---

    "So, you HAVE gone soft," a voice spoke behind Taker's back, interrupting his thoughts. Sara stared at the owner of the voice, her eyes wide with fear. Taker turned around ever so slowly, a cold, dark aura practically radiating from him.

    "Ro!" Taker hissed.

    Ro smirked, "I suppose you ARE only human after all, Taker!" He pulled out a phaser, "Let's see, shall we? Let's see if THEY gave you anything special. If THEY made you impervious to pain. What about a point-blank phaser blast to the chest? Think that'll work?" Taker's eyes went wide, which caused Ro to laugh, "You don't understand how I could possibly know, do you? Let's just say... I work for the competition!" Ro's voice became harsh, "So close. You were SO close to chosing OUR side,"

    Dr. Taker had a brief memory flash: "We will send you back with a gift. How you chose to use that gift will determine where you belong..."

 Ro was still talking, "Hell, people were even calling you SADISTIC! Your attitude went BEYOND having a terrible bedside manner. You think I haven't seen how many times you've purposely caused pain to a patient you didn't like? I thought we were on the right track -- But then... then SHE came along!" he indicated Sara, "And made you start FEELING things!" he said the word as if it was a plague, "And now, I have to get rid of her! With her, you will NEVER reach your full potential! Well, at least not the potential WE want you to reach!" he aimed the phaser at Sara.

    Dr. Taker shoved Sara aside, pulling out his own weapon, "You will leave now, Ro,"

    "No... see... I don't think so!" with that, he fired his weapon. Taker ducked the blast and returned fire. Soon, a full-fledged battle broke out between Ro and Taker.

    "Stop!" Sara cried out. "STOP IT!"

    She tried to run in between the two men in an attempt to stop them... but it was the last mistake she would ever make. A golden beam seared through her chest. Who's weapon had it come from? It didn't matter now. It was too late. The pain burned her up from inside. She felt it through every nerve. Every vein. It was unbearable.

    Ro smirked. Mission accomplished. Ro made a hasty getaway, before Taker could compose himself enough to end the intern's life.

    Dr. Taker kneeled beside the fallen woman, “Sara?” he began. She didn’t respond. He put a hand to her wrist and felt how weak her pulse was... saw that she was in great pain. The doctor looked to the sky, eyes almost glowing with anger, “How DARE you!” he hissed. "How DARE you, you sons of bitches! You CANNOT let her die like this!" he shouted.

    "We do as we please!" a voice spoke... a voice that was actually many voices. "Perhaps one day YOU will be able to stop death... but that day has not come yet,"

    Taker stared down at Sara, concentrating. Willing her eyes to open.

    Instead,  her face grew peaceful... as peaceful as one entering eternal sleep.

    Dr. Taker's eyes went wide. Before he could say goodbye, Sara was gone... quite literally.

    With Ro's help, THEY had taken her.

WWF TITANPRIZE – THE SMACKDOWN (PRESENT STARDATE)

    "I don’t know how much good this recommendation will do." Stephanie said with a sigh, passing the padd across the table into the waiting hands of Ensign Matt Hardy. "Daddy treats me like I’m eight years old with Jericho egging him on."

    Matt shrugged. "I don’t really expect to get promoted. It just looks good on my record if I try. I’m no personnel expert, but I’m sure throwing a drink in your superior officer’s face is no way to get ahead."

    "He should’ve gotten a disruptor to the face." Stephanie muttered.

    "How can he get promoted after he breaks my brother’s ribs?" Matt asked to no one in particular. "Vince seems to like the ‘droid more now that he’s completely out of control. And Jericho is dead inside! Jeff wasn’t threatening the Titanprize or the captain, so why attack him? Y2J is just not capable of anger."

    Stephanie wasn’t so sure of that. "I don’t understand why I always catch Jeff limping or flinching though. I thought you Aerialians healed lightning fast."

    "We do." Ensign Hardy said mournfully. He lowered his voice. "I know this sounds paranoid, but after I was dismissed from Sickbay, I think someone…did something to Jeff."

    "Like Piro?" Stephanie suppressed a shudder, remembering the bleak, terrifying nightmares that wrenched her from sleep, tangling her in a sweaty mass of sheets. The gaunt, grey-eyed ghoul hovered over her bed, smiling as a bony finger traced an X over her pounding heart.

    It will only hurt forever, princess.

    "Pain is the only thing Vamp obeys." Stephanie said shakily. "He’s inflicted it on countless planets…someone like that probably experiences withdrawals and doesn’t mind toying with the occassional Ensign to feed the craving for screams of terror."

    "Jeff wouldn’t scream." Matt said defensively. "Do you think Piro would find himself alone with a pain-resistant alien species and not go off like a kid on Christmas morning? He wouldn’t waste his sickness on a little nerve damage. How come the Dead Man hasn’t done anything about it? He doesn’t let someone cause death and destruction in his yard."

    "Don’t go there!" Stephanie’s face drained of colour. "You musn’t ever go there. He’s above that kind of accusation. If he hears you…."

    "I don’t care. I’m not afraid."

    "Don’t expect me to stick around for this." Stephanie practically ran from the Smackdown. Why did it seem that Taker’s healing came with such a strange and frightening price? No one the Dead Man had cut open came out of it the same.

    "I guess I’ll have some pancakes." Matt said flatly as some nameless Nytron blonde passed by. They all looked alike to him.

    Pancakes…The Rock’s head spun around slowly. Who liked…pancakes?

    As if under a spell, The People’s Champ drifted towards the warm, buttery smell, the sticky sweetness of the oozing syrup, the fluffy golden texture….visions of shut-up juice, sammiches, and rockburgers danced merrily in his head.

    Llamas and monkeys glided across his vision as he floated towards his true mistress. Pancakes….

    "Matt Hardy!" The ensign froze in mid-forking. "Do you….like pancakes?"

    Matt looked around warily. "They’re alright."

    "So you do, indeed, like pancakes?"

    "Yeah, I like pancakes."

    "Well, the Rock says this! The Rock says PANCAKE YOUR FAT ASS ON OUT OF HERE!"

    Ensign Hardy’s eyes went very very round. His feet moved of their own accord, pounding away from the Rock. Yet there was no true escape from the madness, the madness he’d foolishly resurrected….

    The People’s Lt. Commander slid into Matt’s chair and tucked into the people’s pancakes like a man possessed. When he finished, he rose from his seat. "FINALLY! The Rock has returned to HIS bar, the Smackdown!"

    There was a weak smattering of applause and slowly, the chant proceeded to build.

    "Rocky! Rocky! Rocky!"

    Dr. Taker could have his lead pipe and mickey mouse tattoos, for he, The Rock….he had the people!

WWF TITANPRIZE - TAKER'S QUARTERS (2 hours later)

    Dr. Taker had heard the latest report from Sickbay. Apparently Lt. Commander Rock had gotten his memory back -- his advanced Maivian healing abilities kicking in... as usual.

    Rocky's catchphrases were once again a curse on the Titanprize, but Taker didn't care about that right now.

    For the last few days, Taker had become reflective on the past. Dark thoughts clouded his mind.  His recent behaviour had made him wonder who truly was worse -  Ro, or himself?

    Ro. It was definitely Ro.

    Taker had been keeping tabs on the intern since he had left Daytroait and moved to Langeles. Even after he had begun his tenure aboard the Titanprize, Taker always knew where that pissant was.

    Now, lost in space millions of lightyears away from any WrestleFleet planet, he STILL knew where Ro was... for the traitor now resided with Dr. Taker onboard the WWF Titanprize ... though the man was different in name and apperance.

    Whether Ro realized Taker was aware of his past-identity or not, the man would be unprepared when the dark doctor decided to exact his revenge.

        Ro would pay for costing Taker the only living thing he had ever cared about.

       Yes, the ex-Nytron now known as Dr. V. Piro would pay dearly!

       Taker smiled coldly.

       And what a nice painful payment it will be...

ELSEWHERE

    "He has become unacceptably violent once again," the omnipotent voices spoke to one another as they saw the starship Titanprize before them, watching their servant take pleasure in harming his fellow officers, "Perhaps the guide we have provided for him is not suitable. Nurse Bearer has seemed to let his charge fall by the wayside once more. Taker may yet need another guide... like last time..."

    "I would be honoured to volunteer my services again, " a feminine voice spoke.  The female had been quite useful in the past dealing with other possible problems Dr. Taker represented. In fact, she had outright prevented him from going into THE OTHERS service, as he had seemed so close to doing at one time.

    Unfortunately once Ro had destroyed her human body, there was little that could be done to keep her on mortal soil. She would not be able to return until THEY sent her back.

    "It is not time yet," the voices replied, "We shall study him further, allow time to change him," there was a pause, "Your offer shall be noted, and considered should we have need of it. You have been a faithful servant to us, but if you are to assist us in this matter, you are not allowed to grow close to your charge as you did before,"

    "I understand," she replied.

    "Very well, Sara..." the voices answered, "Should we need you, you will be notified..."

    With a nod, Sara disappeared from THEIR presence. Even if THEY did not need her to intervene, she would keep watch of him. She would always keep watch of him... until the day she was called upon once again