There's a Shortage of WHAT?? "
By: Krystal, Pixie Hologram , [RNPC]
Maxine Lucinda Tapert, Computer Specialist, [PC]

Stardate: 58205.27 1500

Maxine sat cross-legged at the main console in the Computer Core. Her neural interface was active and she tweaked a line of code as she worked on the program she was writing. She'd been running diagnostic procedures for the last forty-eight hours in preparation for the upcoming battle. Something was bothering the computer expert. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on. So she was writing a new diagnostic program.

"There's a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. T'would be a pity to damage yours."

What the hell? Maxine blinked and her focus shifted from the program code she was working on to the pixie hovering in the air before her. "What?"

"I said: 'There's a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. T'would be a pity to damage yours'," Krystal answered.

Maxine blinked again in total confusion. "You're goin' t'damage my breasts?"

Now it was the tiny hologram's turn to blink huge blue eyes as she looked at her creator as if she'd just lost part of her neuron synapsis functions. "Nooooo..." she giggled. "It's a quote. From a movie from 20th century Terra," Krystal explained.

"You've been in th' data archives again, 'aven't you?" Maxine accused.

"Do you think I have perfect breasts, Maxine?" Krystal cupped her small breasts and her wings fluttered as she turned from one side to the other so Max could get a good enough view to make an accurate assessment.

Maxine gave her AI program's Avatar a very strange look. "Did I program you with body consciousness?"

"You programed me with breasts. They're very nice. Pert. They call them pert. They feel nice too. Do you think they're perfect?"

Maxine's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Did y'find porn in the archives?"

"Porn? What's porn? "

"Never mind that. Erase it from your data banks. Did y'run a diagnostics on the power allocation sub-routines?" Maxine asked.

"Three times. No errors found," the little pixie reported and then disappeared with a spray of golden dust, an audible *pop* and an "Uht-OH!"

"Uht-oh? What th' 'ell is 'Uht-oh'? Krystal, get back here!"

"BONZAI!!!! BOMBS AWAY!" came the squealing yell as the hologram popped back into sight, divebombing straight towards Maxine at the very same instant the lights turned crimson and the Red Alert claxons sounded.

Maxine's arms flailed in total startlement, and as she instinctively reared back to avoid a collision with the pixie, promptly fell out of her chair, landing on the deck with a thud and an "OOF!!" She blinked, flinching as the hologram came within inches of her nose before veering off.

"ZOOOM, ZOOOM, ZOOOOOOOMMM! FIGHTER'S LAUNCHED!!! WE'RE IN THE ZONE!!! TARGET LOCK ACQUIRED!!!" The pixie circled in dips and swoops around her head.

"Computer! Execute emergency protocol: Roundup Alpha-Icon. Command authorization Tapert Charlie Nine Four Zero Zero One Nine One Playground."

"Executing."

"ROUNDUP! ROUNDUP!! YEEEEHAWWW!!! RIDE'UM COWBOY!! GET ALONG LITTLE DOGGIE!!" The pixie contiued to buzz around the room. "WELL HELLO THERE, LITTLE LADY.. WAAHUH!"

"Pixie! Execute Emergency---"

"FIGHTERS APPROACHING VECTOR--- Hey!" Krystal blinked and stopped mid zoom as she hovered in the air to look at Max. "I don't have access to the computer system any more!" she accused.

"I know. Execute Emergency protocol: Grounded. Command authorization Maxine Six Five Five Nine...."

"Grounded?" Krystal blinked and her wings drooped as she landed on the console.

"Grounded." Maxine sat back in the chair and tapped the PADD near the hologram. "To your PADD. Run a level one self diagnostics," she instructed.

"Grounded..." the little pixie plopped down and sat cross-legged, propping her elbows on her knees and her chin on closed fists. Such a forlorn sight. "Executing," she grumbled.

"Thank you," Maxine breathed a sigh of relief and settled back into what she'd been doing as she kept track of the computer resourses allocations.

This was it.... The Zero Hour. They were at Red Alert and preparing to attempt the impossible.