This page last updated 28 March 1999

Bridge of the Enterprise, in orbit around planet Backwater IV.

Data: Captain, the colony below will be in danger of losing its main life support capacity within 72 hours if we cannot locate a replacement filtration vessel for their equipment. Unfortunately, the filtration material in the device is incompatible with our replicators, so we must locate an original one if possible.

Picard: Well, then, it seems we have no choice. Does the computer indicate a potential source of supply for this device?

Data: It seems that the only extant supply of these vessels was salvaged by a Klingon itinerant mechanic and traveler some twenty Earth years ago. He is ...

Riker: No, don’t tell me. We’re going to have to deal with Klueless the Scavenger! Captain, we can’t do this! That man makes the Ferengi look like a higher life-form!

Picard: Now, Number One, relax. Klueless has often been of great service to both the Federation and the Empire in obtaining materials and equipment no longer thought to exist anywhere in the Galaxy. This brings to mind the times that Klueless has aided colonies and planetary governments by adapting obsolete machinery and parts to maintain vital equipment, often saving lives in the process ...

Geordi: (mumbled, in background) Yeah, as always, a Klingon Army knife and duct tape ...

Picard: If we must do this, we must. Mr. Data, set a course for Packrat II, warp factor 6. Engage ...

 

The Enterprise glides into orbit around a small asteroid, far from its sun. The only thing visible in the dim light from the parent star is a wasteland of old machine parts, crates, materials and other things best not examined too closely. The view from the screen on the bridge elicits gasps of disgust from the assembled crew.

Picard: So this is the famous Packrat II. I wonder what made Klueless set up shop so far from the traveled routes of the galaxy?

Riker: The rent was cheap.

Picard: Mr. Worf, open a hailing frequency to the surface. Let us see if our Mister Klueless is at home.

Worf: Hailing frequencies open, Captain.

 

On the viewscreen, a shaky, distorted image of a humanoid appears. The humanoid seems to be adjusting controls trying to clear the image, but to no avail. He finally grabs a length of steel rod, and smacks the side of the console with it. At the same time, the image snaps into sharp focus. What we see is a Klingon far removed from any we have ever seen before. He wears the outfit of a warrior, but it is dirty with grease and dust, and sports a pouch containing what seems to be tools where a Klingon’s dagger and sidearm would be. The body contained in the outfit has obviously long since given up any pretense of remaining fit, and slouches comfortably in the console seat.

Klueless: Good morning, or whatever time it is up there, Captain Picard. I received your message detailing the time of your arrival and the reason for your visit to my little workshop. Please feel free to come down and visit, and we can address your problem.

Picard: Mr Klueless, if you would, we are in a great hurry to obtain the vessel and return to the colony that needs it. If we could negotiate for its purchase and beam it up now, we would prefer this.

Klueless: Captain, much as I would like to do this, I’m afraid I need your help. I know I have one, but WHERE is not something that immediately comes to mind. My inventory computer ... (waving to a machine in the background)

Geordi: My God! A Macintosh II! That must be 300 years old.

Klueless: ... isn’t the most communicative device in existence, especially since I hooked it to that old M-5 unit I picked up on my last trip to Terra. I need your help to locate one for you.

Picard: Very well, sir. An Away Team will be beaming down momentarily to assist you in the search. Picard out. (To Riker) Mr. Riker, I will be leading this team personally. It is rumored that Klueless has a shuttle craft from the original Enterprise down there, and I’m hoping to get a glimpse of it, if I may. The other members will be Commander Data and Commander LaForge. Both of them should be able to help us identify the vessel shipping crates. Mr. Riker, the bridge is yours (Picard strides off the bridge, followed by Geordi and Data.)

 

The Away Team beams down in front of Klueless’ workshop, which looks not unlike an old spaceship. Faded letters spelling out the name Jupiter II are visible on the hull above the open loading door. As they walk toward it, Picard notices and points out interesting bits of junk, such as remnants of old spacecraft, lander vehicles, V’GER, Robbie the Robot, and other bits of less-identifiable machinery. They step inside, only to be assaulted by the smell of coffee, solder flux, overheated metal and carbonizing electronic components.

Geordi: This is like stepping back 200 years. Most of the stuff in here hasn’t been made since the early 2200s.

 

Klueless appears, looking strangely at home in this environment.

Klueless: Good day, gentlemen.

Picard: Good day. This is my Engineering Officer, Commander LaForge, and my helm officer, Commander Data. Have you had any success locating the vessel?

Klueless: Yes, I have. I finally persuaded my computer (grinning and hefting the metal bar seen earlier, as Data winces) to give me the inventory location. Unfortunately, the last one I have has been used. I don’t think a little ale fermentation would have hurt it, do you? (Picard and LaForge share incredulous looks of disgust).

LaForge: As long as the filter is intact, we can clean it.

 

They follow Klueless back out of the workshop to another building which was once a spaceship. An American Airlines logo and the words "Valley Forge" adorn this one, which seems to have been a large freighter.

Klueless: Ah, here we are. (Takes a wrench, begins to disconnect the filter vessel from the plumbing around it). Why don’t you help yourselves to an ale while I get this disconnected? The chilled ones are in the cooling unit behind you.

Picard: (with a barely repressed shudder) No, I think we’ll pass. Can we assist you in any way?

Klueless: No, just stand back.(Gives the wrench a twist) Incidentally, do you have anyone who can install this? If you’re planning on following the standard installation procedures for this type of device, it won’t work.

LaForge: Captain, he’s right. The maintenance engineers destroyed the spare they had trying to install it according to the directions. Seems they were translated to the local language using a dictionary, and no one really understood the original language ...

Klueless: (muttering) Damned Rigellian manuals ... I think they write them that way so they can sell you a new one when you break the first one.

Picard: Mr. Klueless, I would be forever in your debt if you would accompany us back to the colony to assist in the installation.

Klueless: Speaking of debt, Captain, we still have not agreed to a price for my services and the vessel. What do you suggest?

Picard: Well ... I don’t really know. What did you have in mind?

Klueless: (twists wrench again, barking a knuckle,cursing fluently) I’m never going to buy Craftsman tools again. Actually, I could use a slightly newer computer system (eyeing Data possessively).

Picard: (interrupting smoothly) Well, I’m sure we can come to an agreeable solution. (To LaForge quietly) Geordi, have we still got that computer we salvaged from the ship wreckage around Jupiter in the Sol system last year?

LaForge: You mean the one that sings "Daisy" and tries to kill people? Sure, we have it, but it’s nothing I’d use.

Picard: Look around you.

LaForge: You’re right. They’d make a lovely couple ...

Klueless: (Gives a final tug, and the vessel pops free of its mounts) Here we go. Let’s get moving. (Tosses tools into a case) Shall we?

Picard: Four to beam up with cargo, Number One.

 

Picard, LaForge, Data and Klueless beam down to the engineering area of the colony immediately upon Enterprise’s return into orbit. As introductions are being exchanged, there is a muffled boom, and a faint vibration shakes the floor. Along with this,alarms begin to sound, indicating total failure of the main life support systems. Klueless, on viewing this, changes strangely. Rather than the shabby Klingon, a different man inhabits the tool-bedecked uniform. His back straightens, and a glimmer comes into his eye. Rather like an old war-horse when the bugles sound, he knows what to do.

Klueless: (turning to the nearest technician) Turn off those damned ALARMS!

Techie: We can’t (eyeing Klueless) ... sir. The overrides aren’t working ... and neither are the backup support systems. We’ve no life support at all.

Klueless: (strides to a panel, opens it) Just what I thought. (begins to rummage, pulling out circuit chips and flinging them to the floor in disgust).

Techie: You can’t do that! Those are the main computer controls for the support plant ...

Picard: (to tech) Let him be. He knows what he’s doing.

 

The technician jumps forward only to be restrained by Picard and Data. Klueless, undaunted now by the maelstrom of alarms, reaches into his tool pouch and selects a mysterious device made up of hinged metal pieces folded together into a compact mass. He begins to nonchalantly flip out the pieces, examining each before returning it to its spot and removing the next one. What is revealed is a bewildering assortment of tools and gadgets. Sonic screwdriver, pliers, forceps, small laser, large laser, cutting blade(serrated), cutting blade (smooth), pocket tricorder, disruptor, antimatter container, etc. Finally,a wicked-looking blade a foot long is revealed, and with a grunt of satisfaction, Klueless plunges the blade into the center of the console. Sparks fly, and the alarms cease. Seconds later, there is a whir, as the pumps and fans of the backup life-support systems power on. Klueless pulls the knife out of the panel, holding a circuit module on the end of the knife like a maiden aunt holding a dead lizard.

Klueless: Klingon Army knife. Never leave home without it.(He waves the module toward Picard, who can see that it has RADIO SHACK stenciled on its side). Never trust a circuit designer. They have no idea what the real world’s about. The patch I’ve made here isn’t going to last long, Captain. We’d best get that vessel in, and be quick about it.

Tech: The filtration area is down this way. Please follow me.

Klueless: Well, then, MOVE!!

 

The startled tech jumps, as does everyone else except Picard, who just grins quietly. The Away Team plus Klingon go to the filtration area. The old vessel has burst, damaging its mounting and some of the connecting pipes. Klueless, with Data and Geordi, cut away the damaged vessel. Unfortunately, the mounting is too badly damaged to permit installation of the replacement.

Klueless: Let me look at this for a moment ...

LaForge: You’d better make it a short moment. Those auxiliary systems don’t sound too happy handling the full load.

Klueless: (spying a pile of scrap and leftover material at the far end of the room) What is that pile of material?

Tech: That’s nothing but old cargo slings, and a few containers of sprayable epoxy that got used for the floors when they built the place. There’s nothing there we can use.

Klueless: Maybe YOU can’t, but I think we’ve got something here ...

 

The Klingon steps toward the pile of junk, while the Enterprise crew looks on. He stops, turning suddenly toward Data.

Klueless: Commander Data, can your phaser be set to produce heat of, oh shall we say, 200 standard degrees?

Data: Yes, it can. I fail to see, however, what this will do for the present situation-

Klueless: You’ll see. I think that this will work out perfectly.

 

With the Enterprise crew’s help, Klueless rigs a webbing sling to the damaged mounts for the vessel, also running webbing supports to other parts of the machinery, as well as the floor and walls. Into this he places the filter, aligning it with its inlet and outlet tubes.

LaForge: It’s a nice try, but it’ll never hold up to the vibration and pressure when the pumps start back up. The pipes will whip, and then the whole mess will come loose again.

Klueless: Oh, I don’t think that will happen. I’m not done quite yet. Now everyone stand back. This is going to make a bit of a mess,I’m afraid.

 

Using his trusty Klingon Army knife’s laser, Klueless beheads the epoxy containers, pouring the remains of each into a container and stirring it. He then upends the container, pouring the rapidly hardening mass over the webbing and vessel, saturating the webbing with the fluid.

Klueless: Mr. Data, would you please heat the vessel and its attachments to cure the epoxy, please?

 

Data pulls his phaser, and after making a few careful adjustments, warms the epoxy-covered vessel and the webbing. The epoxy immediately hardens, creating a rigid structure and immobilizing the filter. They then move in and quickly attach the inlets and outlets, as the noises from the swiftly failing backup systems increase in volume. Finally, a command sequence is given, and the main system returns to operation, as grateful technicians shut down the beleaguered backups.

LaForge: I’ll be damned. I’d have never thought of that ...

Klueless: Well, Commander LaForge, you have the Enterprise, one of the greatest arsenals of technology and power in existence at your service. Having all of that doesn’t encourage development of alternate means to the same end. However those of us without access to such technology (waving deprecatingly toward his tool pouch) tend to learn, rather swiftly, to improvise from available materials under the pressures of time.

 

Klueless turns and looks about the room, surveying the now-functioning life-support systems.

Klueless: A character in Terran fiction I feel a great fondness for once remarked about using ‘orange juice and a rope’ when he needed to improvise. Though I have little fondness for imbibing fruit acids, I admire the sentiment.

Picard: That sounds familiar, but I can’t place it. Who was the character, someone from Shakespeare, or perhaps Tolstoy?

Klueless: I’m surprised at your lack of recognition, Captain. It was the character ‘MacGyver’, from the video saga of the same name!

Picard: Ah, Yes! Now I remember. His was a name mentioned often in Starfleet engineering classes, along with a countryman of his by the name of Murphy.

 

Klueless and Picard share a look of amusement, as around them the operation of the plant returns to normal.

In the lobby of the support plant, the Away Team takes its leave of the colonists.

Klueless: (to Picard) Captain, I’m going to be staying here for a while. If you would be so kind, I’d appreciate it if you’d arrange to have my ship ferried to me here. I’ll be needing more of my equipment than I have with me at present.

Picard: I see no problem with having this done for you. Please consider it part of the payment for the job you’ve done for us here. I am a bit surprised,though. I’d have thought you’d want to return home as quickly as possible.

Klueless: No, Captain. That improvisation we installed isn’t going to last forever, and there aren’t any more of those filter vessels available. I’m going to see what I can do to get this setup a little cleaner before I go home.

 

The Captain’s comm badge beeps, prompting Picard’s murmured response:

Picard: Picard here, Number One. What’s the problem?

Riker: A Ferengi ship has just entered orbit, Captain. From our sensor readings, they’ve just activated transporters -

 

A large-eared shape suddenly materializes in their midst. It resolves itself into the form of a Ferengi merchant, carrying a large, vaguely weapon-shaped device. All of the Starfleet personnel hit the floor, drawing phasers.

Klueless: No, Don’t shoot!

 

Klueless hurries over to meet the Ferengi, who has begun talking agitatedly.

Ferengi: Your computer told me I’d find you here, Klingon. We need to discuss this device that you sold me -

Klueless: That computer and I are going to have a little talk about privacy when I get back. As for you, Ferengi, I warned you when I sold you that industrial phaser that it needed careful handling. (reaches for large spanner from tool kit) This is what you have to DO. (Klueless cocks his arm and swings, clubbing the phaser dead-center in the control panel with the wrench. The unit immediately hums to life as it drops to the floor with the Ferengi, who was unprepared for the blow).

Klueless: Sorry about that, but at least it’s working. Now will you PLEASE get on with whatever you were getting on with and leave me in peace.

Ferengi: This behavior is uncalled for. We will meet again, Klingon. (The Ferengi signals his ship and is beamed aboard, still muttering).

Picard: The Damon seemed rather irritated with you. Aren’t you a little concerned about his threatening you?

Klueless: (grinning broadly) No, Captain, I am not. I am aware that the creature is without honor, and I think he’s going to get an unpleasant surprise when he tries to use that phaser for the illegal purposes that he purchased it for. The minute he tries to use it outside of the legal power levels I set it at, it’s going to subspace broadcast his ship’s ident code, with details of what they’re trying to do, over subspace emergency frequencies to the nearest starbase, either Klingon or Federation. I don’t think he’ll be bothering me again.

Picard: Very well, sir. (Smiling, taps badge) Mr. O’Brien, three to beam up.

 

Back