Fanfiction…the final frontier. These are the voyages of the good ship (Name of Ship), its continuing mission: to explore strange new fandoms; to seek out the good, the bad, the possibly redeemable, and the downright wrong; to boldly correct the grammar, punctuation, and characterization of fics that have never been corrected before!
Captain Daystar Searcher crouched fearfully behind an outrageously scarlet canister of terribly dangerous material, which was leaning haphazardly to the right. She bellowed ferociously, "Dammit, Quark, I specifically and emphatically told you not to poke around the cargo bay! I was saving all these adverbs for something exceedingly special, but now we'll have to quickly destroy them all before they maliciously overtake the vessel!"
Quark was cowardly cowering behind yet more outrageously scarlet canisters of terribly dangerous material and did not readily reply, being far too busy cowardly cowering.
Searcher angrily slapped her comm badge. "Searcher to Carter," she fiercely snapped. "I desperately need a highly controlled techno-babble explosion in Cargo Bay Three immediately!"
"But, sir, we were saving that for--"
"There is absolutely no time to slowly and rationally discuss this, Carter," Searcher furiously cried. "I positively cannot take anymore of this hideously unrealistic dialogue and simply cannot risk the horribly risky risk of recklessly allowing this threateningly quick-spreading outbreak to pervadingly pervade my--"
Thankfully Carter did not fully wait until the end of the slowly-unraveling speech to release the techno-babble explosion. There was a stunningly bright burst of lights, and computer beeping, and then the adverbs began to decrease. Searcher sighed, and slouched against a scarlet canister, watching Quark uncoil. For the umpteenth time she regretted taking the Ferengi aboard, but what could else could she have done? Left him to languish in that hideously out-of-character Odo/Kira/Dax bondage fic? She shuddered. No, she had done the right thing. He was a well-drawn character with some good lines, and Searcher would eventually find him a decent fan fiction to relocate to. But in the meantime--
"For the record, sir, I don't think 'pervadingly' is a word," Samantha Carter said over the comm.
"Whatever," the Captain said. "Things seem to be improving here. Are you reading a drop to normal adverb levels?"
"Aye, aye, sir," Carter replied. She gave a delicate cough. "Actually, Captain, since we've just lost our reserve adverbs, I was thinking…there's a Jack O'Neill fanfic just a few files away, lots of angsty inner monologue stuff with witty quips, and I think it could really reach its potential with a little adverb pruning, and"--
"And while we're in the neighborhood we might as well drop you in the plotline as his love interest," Searcher finished. "I'd hate to lose my reigning techno-babble expert, but you make a good point, Carter. Send the files over to my office and I'll see how many adverbs we stand a chance of harvesting. See if you can find coordinates for me to pick up another techno-babble expert and their techno-babble supply while you're at it." She paused a moment. "Oh, and send Parody Worf down here to get Quark."
Parody Worf was her current security chief and was not, in fact, from a parody, but from one of the most ill-advised forays into Jadzia/Worf fan fiction that the captain had ever encountered. Not to mention the worst-spelled. She'd been forced to use the (Name of Ship)'s Eraser on the whole thing, even firing bursts of White-Out torpedos. The really resilient parts had required the Delete Button. And yet she had saved Worf. Even a well-written Worf was never--in Daystar's opinion--very far from absurdity, and this one, well…his author had unwittingly created one of the funniest characters in the universe, and Searcher just knew there was a parody out there for him somewhere.
She turned to the cause of all this trouble, who was only now standing up and brushing himself off. He turned what was apparently his idea of a winning smile towards her. Holy Mother of Joss Whedon, he needed to floss. "Now, Captain, do you really think security is nec--"
"Save it," Searcher growled. "I'm having Parody Worf confine you to quarters." She cut off his protest. "Oh, and if you ever--and I do mean ever--do anything remotely like that again, I will chop you up into punctuation marks and drop you in a steamy Beckett/Mercer fic. Do I make myself clear?"
From the ghastly green tinge of his face, she suspected she had.