Star Trek: Wild, Wild Planet (1965)

Captain's Log, Stardate 6110.3, Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise. Currently late in Year Three of our Five Year Mission to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, and to boldly go where no man has gone before, we have been docked at Starbase Gamma for a week now, while the Enterprise undergoes regular maintenance and refit.

Starbase Gamma is old, poorly-managed, and in a distant part of the galaxy, but it has what we need to get our ship back in prime running order.

While we have been here, new uniform regulations have been transmitted throughout Starfleet, much to our annoyance. The new blue and white Duty Uniforms are, quite frankly, ugly as sin, but even the Captain must follow the rules and I am the first to make the switch. We've kept the old uniforms in storage while the new ones are being churned out by the replicators, as we have filed enough complaints and grievances to Fleet Supply Command that we're hoping to have this rule rescinded.

While hanging out on Starbase Gamma, I chance to meet the brilliant bio-scientist Adam Levine, a distant relative of a famous singer from 21st century Earth history. I can tell right from the get-go that I'm going to hate this guy (and probably end up killing him).

He's doing spooky genetic research with human organs and stuff, which creeps me out. He can somehow keep organs alive outside of the body, which, oh god I'm going to barf. Why can't these guys just use their brains and sliderules to cure cancer or make a better toupee gel? Why do they always end up tampering with things best left untampered with?

I shouldn't be surprised, though, the galaxy is just chock full of these insane fools, messing with nature and always getting me involved somehow. I really need some time away from the Command Chair, just a couple days where no one is threatening to wipe out humanity or anything, I just want a break.

The rest of my crew stays aboard the ship for now, while my newest girlfriend Connie and I beam down to the planet to visit the main city and hopefully do some humping. Along the way we take note of the primitive technology on display. Seriously, I'm not sure I'd risk a flight in any of these spaceships, they look like deathtraps.

They're still using chemical rocket propulsion? Is this civilization even warp-capable? Can we get some technology transfer applications going?

Why do all the rockets have fins and wings? Is everything atmospheric-capable? Why doesn't the Enterprise have tailfins? Can we retrofit some? That would be super snazzy. Can I get some pin-striping on the nacelles?

The city is pretty modern, I'll give them that. I don't see any bars, though, is this a dry town? The local Starfleet garrison, detached from the Starbase, seems to have a heavy presence in the city, even if they have little actual power in the government.

Connie, who is (I think) some Engineering Department Lieutenant's wife or something (I don't care, I'm the Captain, I bone who I want to bone) wants to go visit the local art museums and artisal coffee shops. I'd rather kill myself.

At a party we meet up with Adam Levine again, which just sucks because all that dude wants to do is talk and talk and talk and I just want to eat my overcooked Banthan steak in peace and then maybe get shitfaced on Romulan ale and pass out on top of a waitress. Seriously, being a Starfleet Captain is a stressful job, more than you can imagine.

Connie is tipsy and mad at me so she's looking to make me jealous. Adam Levine has seen his opening and is straight-up hitting on my girlfriend right in front of me like I'm not even there. But, honestly, I don't care, I'm boinking Yeoman Rand on the side anyway.

But I've got bigger plans today, the local Federation HQ unit has invited me to a meeting about a rash of abductions in the city. I put on my stupid new uniform and schlep down the the HQ, everyone else there better be wearing the new unis or I'm going to be hella mad (they are).

Why again am I here? Have they heard of my legendary exploits across Known Space? Or is it just because I'm the ranking officer of the biggest ship docked at the Starbase? No, no, definitely because I'm awesome. I'm awesome. Awesome.

Afterwards I go and visit their HQ and see their ancient level of technology, like something out of timewarp from a hundred years ago. They really should apply for some upgrades, I'm sure the Federation would loan them some credits on generous terms. What is that glowing dome thing? Is that a computer screen? Man.

The HQ Secretary is pretty cute, I'll will probably have sex with her later today.

But first I have to call the Enterprise and have Spock make sure that Yeoman Rand stays aboard for at least another day, I don't want her walking in on us and causing a scene. Oh crap, I forgot about Connie, got to make sure she's out shopping or something tonight also. See what I tell you? Being Captain is tough.

Later I'm invited to see some video surveillance of numerous pairs of strange women and men that have recently been spotted in city. It's clear that these couples are working in teams to kidnap civilians all over the city, though no one is sure yet how they manage to squirrel away their victims.

Reports keep coming in from all over the planet now, people are disappearing in droves. And yet no one really seems that concerned? There must be something I'm missing here.

I'm then taken to see a local scientist who has been turned into midget! He claims that a mysterious guy tried to kidnap him, but was interrupted and now he's half his original size (wha?). Huh, are there any midgets in Starfleet? I don't think I've ever heard on one going through the Academy, but last year the Enterprise visited the planet Platonius and a dwarf there rode me like a pony. I am not making that up, it's all in the official report.

Lieutenant Commander Scott beams down to the HQ per my request now. I'm feeling the need to have someone who isn't a local help me figure all this out.

Scotty gets up to speed on the abduction mystery, though he really doesn't have as much to offer as I was hoping. Perhaps I should have had Spock beam down instead? Spock is in temporary command of the Enterprise back at the Starbase, but I'm sure he'd love to stand around behind me and gloat about how logical and smart he is. I hate that he's so handsome.

No time for second-guessing, the local authorities have a line on a pair of strangers in a fleeing car and they ask me to help. The cars on this planet are just as retro-ancient as their spacecraft, and they also have useless tailfins. I really want tailfins on the Enterprise now. I bet the Klingons would be impressed if we rolled up to the Neutral Zone with tailfins.

So Scotty and I take a little shuttle from the HQ motorpool and give chase. I suppose I could have just called Spock and have him sent down one of our own shuttles, but they promised to let me drive. Spock never lets me drive our shuttles anymore, not since that little fender-bender (not my fault!) with that Andoraan consular ship last year.

This planet's shuttle craft design is cramped and less than ergonomic. Of course, I'm used to the wide-open floorplans of the Enterprise, more spots to take a nap during the afternoon.

We chase the car for a while, until it gets dark, and then it crashes into a ravine. Oddly, both occupants are missing. I say oddly because apparently no one on this redneck planet has a working lifeform scanner. I swear this is what living in the 20th century must have been like.

In the car wreck we find a suitcase that holds tiny people! Ah, now it makes sense, the girl/guy combos are somehow (science?) miniaturizing their kidnapping victims for easy transport out of the city. They obviously have a portable device to do this in the field, probably imported Cardassian technology.

We also find a couple of weird poison dart knives that the strangers all carry. Because I'm the Captain, I squeeze a dollop of poison on my hand, just to check it out. Don't worry, I wipe it off on my shirt so it's ok. I suppose I'm going to have to go through quarantine (again) before I can re-board the Enterprise.

While the girl is never found, it's not long before the guy turns up dead. We go to the city morgue to view the body and we're quite surprised to see that he has four fully-functional arms. While my companions suggest he's a genetically-enhanced clone, it's also possible that he's a Terellian from the Alpha Quadrant, their species is known to have four arms.

I've never met a Terellian before, but I suddenly wonder if females of the species also have four arms, and more importantly, what the other two hands would be doing while I bang the Terellian Space Princess (sexy things, I suppose). Does no one else here wonder things like this all the time? Is there something wrong with me? No.

At this point we need to act, so Scotty and I go to confront the women, who we've discovered are holed up at a local hotel. The girls are humanoid in appearance and fairly attractive, though they are perhaps androids. They are all dressed like normal people on this planet, blending in well enough that they have avoided detection until now.

Not all of the girls are here, by the way, a couple seem to have been out in the field when Scotty and I showed up.

We came for information but it's pretty apparent that these ladies have a lot of fight in them. I've been known to hit a woman when the moment called for it, but prefer to just wrestle them down. Isn't this a job for the police? Why do I have to do everything myself all the time?

After the fight is over, the police finally show up and take the girls away. Scotty and I gather intel from materials left in the room, which all point to Adam Levine being crooked. Scotty returns to the Enterprise after this, he's needed in the engine rooms. Honestly, I'm happy to see Scotty leave, his slurry Scottish accent was really pulling attention away from me.

It's pretty clear that I need to question Adam Levine about his involvement in all this. The cops report he's at a nearby theater catching a show, hopefully I can nab him before he splits. Wow, are they having a butterfly interpretive dance show here? I can't wait to get off this planet.

Because I never do anything the easy way, I just walk right in and Adam Levine sees me and runs backstage. While looking for him I accidentally (really!) barge in on some half-naked chicks. I should really get some business cards to leave in these situations, I'm pressed for time.

The City Mayor unwisely keeps me from punching Adam Levine to death, he even lets the guy go free because “laws” or whatever. It's obvious to me now that the local government on this planet, even extending to the Starbase personnel, are in cahoots with Adam Levine in some way. There seems to be no other reason why they haven't reigned him in yet, even though all evidence points to him kidnapping hundreds of civilians. It looks like I'm going to have to do this alone (again).

Not long after that, I receive word that Connie has turned up missing! She was last seen in the company of some of those creepy ladies, but since she left her communicator back in her hotel room, we can't trace her. I know I should feel worse than I do, with her being my girlfriend and a Starfleet officer and all, but I've got a lot of other things on my plate right now.

I learn later that she was indeed kidnapped and taken off-world to this planet's moon. If I had known this was where everyone was being taken I would have just ordered the Enterprise to blockade the moon, but it's too late now.

I still don't know what Adam Levine's game is, but I assume I'll find out soon enough. Sigh.

After some consultation with Spock, I order Ensign Sulu to beam down to the planet and assist me. I've always trusted Sulu's judgment and abilities, and it's nice to have another competent Starfleet officer here with me, as I'm surrounded by inbred idiots and Scotty was, frankly, of little help. Spock, perhaps sensing that I'm about to do something violent and unpredictable (me?) beams down a three-man detachment of Security Personnel with Sulu.

Sulu and I and one of the Red Shirts go to Adam Levine's planetside facility, located in what looks like a former industrial building. Really? A disused cable factory? No Greek-inspired temple? No giant, holographic mansion with robot servants? No Chasm of Doom filled with dry ice fog and flashing lights? No originality.

Sulu always was the shoot-first type, glad he didn't bring his katana with him, this poor rent-a-cop would be dead by now.

Upstairs is a laboratory where the four-armed guys are being made. Ok, so I was wrong, they're not Terellians, they are indeed clones made by Adam Levine. Hey, I've been wrong before, just not that often.

I'm still not sure why the clone dudes have four arms, or how they miniaturize people, or what the ladies were doing with them, or why they were picking some targets and not others, I just don't know what the heck is going on.

But I don't care anymore because all this is giving me a headache and I'm going to bust it up. After killing a bunch of guys (clones and not clones), I kinda feel bad, some of these saps were surely just local citizens working for Adam Levine's company, just paying the bills. I sure hope I still have Starfleet immunity.

After the shooting is over, we confirm that Adam Levine is abducting people, shrinking them down, and taking them all to his secret facility on the moon for some unknown reason. All the local government officials are complaisant in this, probably a lot of money changing hands, and I'm so going to burn them all in my next scheduled report to Starfleet Command.

Time is of the essence, so I commandeer a shuttle and rush to the moon with Ensign Sulu and three other Red Shirts. We switch from our ugly new Duty Uniforms to the new Away Party Uniforms, which are just as ugly but at least don't have the big, bright, shoot-at-me white patches on them. Then I realize that the new Combat Helmets are shiny white, which makes zero tactical sense.

Our approach is monitored, however, and we are swiftly incapacitated by gas and captured. I'm slightly embarrassed to say that I walked us right into a trap, though I will surely blame this on Sulu in the official report.

Adam Levine is quite the megalomaniac and he derives great pleasure in showing me around his facility, gloating about his awesomeness and trying to get me to see the genius in his plans for Galactic Domination. Is he maybe trying to get me to come over to his side? Because I have the Enterprise? Perhaps, he wouldn't be the first crazy power-mad nutjob that has tried to use my ship for nefarious deeds in the last few years. It's been a long Five Year Mission. Maybe five years is too long for one crew?

Adam Levine explains in detail his plans for creating a Master Race of Supermen with genetic manipulation. I just don't know why he's telling me all this, he has heard of me before, right? I'm going to break all his shit and probably kill him eventually, surely he knows this.

He also shows me the Main Computer that controls all the functions of the entire facility, he even casually mentions that if it ever overloaded and blew up it would destroy everything. That seems like a basic design flaw, one just ripe for disaster should a dashing young Starfleet officer with amazing hair decide to stick a fork in an outlet, so to speak.

Most cringingly, he then shows me a room full of failed genetic experiments, a menagerie of horrors and misshapen heads all clawing to escape their cage. Any good feelings I might have had for Adam Levine's work just evaporated when I realize that these poor suckers were once innocent civilians kidnapped from the planet's cities.

While I stew on that, he just keeps talking.

God he talks a lot, like that bastard Khan. When am I going to meet a power-hungry Mad Scientist who is quiet and contemplative? Maybe someone who just wants to post his Manifesto online and then just lurk in the comments section for a while?

At the end of our “tour” of his facility, he shows me his Operating Theater, where he does all his cutting and mutating on human subjects. Oddly, it's by an open pool of ground water, which just seems unhygienic. In fact, everything about his medical labs seems primitive and germ-infested, with nary a rubber glove or Medical Tricorder to be seen. I feel like I'm going to need some booster shots when I get back to my ship.

Adam Levine informs me that he has special plans for Connie, merging her genes and his together to create the Perfect Specimen. Oh, man, I guess I have to do something now, she is a Starfleet officer and all.

I hate to say this, but I hope he's not going to mess up Connie's face, she's awful pretty. Maybe I could request a boob job for her? She's a tad flat-chested for my tastes. Would that be unprofessional of me, to ask that of the Evil Mad Scientist bent on creating Supermen to conqueror the galaxy? I mean, while he's got her under the knife, would it really hurt that much to toss in some silicone for me? No? Is there a form I have to fill out first?

Ensign Sulu and the Red Shirts are with me now and on the fly I hatch a brilliant tactical plan to bust out and save Connie. Step One: Punch everyone. Step Two: Repeat Step One.

Since Adam Levine didn't see fit to issue guns or swords to any of his security people, this quickly devolves into a playground beat-down of karate flips and haymaker swings. Our Federation hand-to-hand combat training syllabus was written just for these opportunities and these clowns never had a chance. I make sure to get in some Flying Leg Kicks, got to keep up with the younger kids.

Connie is rescued, she's dazed and semi-lucid, but safe and sound. I debate for a second if I should be the one to carry my girlfriend to safety, or hand her over to a random Red Shirt and go do other things. Ah, you know, I'm just not the lady-carrying type, not my strong suit.

Free to do as I please now, I have no choice but to hunt down Adam Levine and finish him off. We yell at each other a bit, then stuff explodes and the facility is flooded by a nearby lake (maybe it was built under the lake?). Despite being trapped by rising flood waters, Adam Levine continues to monologue even in death. I just don't see how he thought he was going to come up against me and win, when has that ever happened?

Everything explodes like it's made of spacegasoline.

The Bridge Crew all survive, of course, though my informal headcount turns up a few missing Red Shirts. Whatever, I've got a stack of applications for disposable, entry-level Red Shirt jobs waiting on my desk, everyone wants to work on the Enterprise. Spock sends down an Away Team of Marines to mop up this miserable mess and I believe that I can call this Mission Accomplished. Too bad none of us have an overcoat to loan Connie, she looks cold.

Once we've saved this backwater planet from peril, there's still a few days left of much-needed Shore Leave before the Enterprise is ready to continue on our Five Year Mission. Let's break out the swimsuits! Hey, why don't we have a swimming pool on the Enterprise? Can I request one? I'm sure there's room in the shuttlebay for a pool, or at least a Jacuzzi. A Jacuzzi with tailfins.

Umm...this might not be a good day after all. Connie says she's late. And her husband has found out about us. Since I'm not about to be anyone's babydaddy, I better get to transferring them both to the Delta Quadrant Fleet right away. Scotty, can you wait about twenty minutes and then beam down Yeoman Rand to my location? Yes, that is an order.

Oh, and all our bellyaching in Starfleet chatrooms and testy emails to HR worked, we've gone back to the old uniforms (for now). Who says complaining never works?

However, I have our onboard tailor make a special version of those blue and white uniforms for Yeoman Rand. Strictly for professional reasons. Because my penis.

The End.

Written in November 2016 by Nathan Decker.

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