Some of you may remember that once upon a time, Carl Mcg was my partner. As well as my husband. So it's with heartfelt sincerity that this reporter congratulates him on this most prestigious award. So I stormed into the editor's office, pounded on his desk, and demanded his resignation. However, since I was only an eight year old paperboy at the time, he told me to get lost.
Seriously,
Seriously. I respect you all as fellow reporters, which makes this award all the more meaningful. Many thanks. Especially to Bonnie Asch for not throwing a jealous snit!
How about a rotten tomato? Can I throw that? Now, how about we all get below to that hotel reception?
Was that a Flying saucer?
Carl. Carl! Wow.
Carl McGavin, I come for you. Go team, go, go, go! Sir, can you
give us any idea what it was that crashed into your hotel? Yep, it's a UFO. That's unidentified flying object for you lay people. Now the way I figure it, it's a scout ship from an alien warrior race called Killertrons. And their convoy is Where did it land? Killertrons. What? Oh. Oh, that. Well, it crashed in our pool.
Right through there. Sorry, folks. I'm General Fitzwilliam. And the pool is now a restricted area.
Take me to your leader. Ah, Bonnie! What are you doing here? Same as you, sneaking into a restricted area for the real story. Yeah? Well, guess what? This real story's got an alien popping out of that saucer and calling me by name. Oh, right. He gives you the exclusive. Aw, don't believe me, babycakes. Well, let's do this one together, huh?
Just like old times.
Okay, but I catch you trying to out scoop me and your next trophy will be awarded posthumously. It
sure got foggy awful fast. Carl, doesn't this seem pretty? Carl? CARL?!
No trying to ditch me, Buster. Look! Wet footprints from the pool. It went down this way.
Fitzwillie. Spelled like it sounds. And no, that is not a flying saucer. You gonna chuck this one up to swamp gas and weather balloons too? Like at Roswell? Or Area 51? What about that alien autopsy? Hey, the sci fi convention called. Your geek seat's ready. What is it exactly? People, please. We are investigating the fallen debris, and once we have something to say There!
A Martian! It ran into the banquet room! In the banquet room! Let's get after it! I see it! Halt, Killertron! What's going on? Miss? Nice. Got any of those crab cakes left? It stopped. Good. Then maybe you wouldn't mind getting off.
It's going up to the roof. Let's take the stairs.
Stay back. This could get dangerous. McGavin.
Where is it?
Stay back. This could get dangerous. Wait! We want to talk to you. Free Karaglath prisoners! Bonnie! It's just Bonnie Ash.
Did you see that alien mothership? It's recovered. The saucer. It's an invasion, I tell you. An invasion! That was no mothership. That was a blimp. With just three words, free Caracla prisoners, that alien from space Space instantly became explainable as a Middle Eastern terrorist from the country of Caracla.
And that flying saucer became her downed stealth aircraft that was retrieved by a Caracla rescue ship. For the team of Carl McGavin and Bonnie Ashe, back to you in the studio. No, no, it's a conspiracy! A cover up! That was a Kilotron mothership and it was This Alliance inquiry into Agent Logan's alleged criminal actions at the Seattle Arms Hotel Begins now.
We'll begin with Jefferson Trueblood's testimony. Start from the beginning. At approximately 1, 900 hours, we were tracking the Tribune saucer as it entered our atmosphere. Classified as such by Agent Ty Yet's identification. Tribune, this is your final warning. Leave our airspace or you will be fired upon.
Have it your way.
The strike disabled the saucer. But its trajectory remained constant, the Pacific Northwest. We alerted regional Team 8 in that sector. Oh, my turn. Um, okay, knowing it was a Tribune ship, we had already predetermined several logical destinations, one being the Seattle Arms Journalism Convention. So Team 8 moved in.
Agents Logan and Pereira were already undercover on site. And acting completely
Some of you may remember that once upon a time, Carl Mcg was my partner. As well as my husband. So it's with heartfelt sincerity that this reporter congratulates him on this most prestigious award. So I stormed into the editor's office, pounded on his desk, and demanded his resignation. However, since I was only an eight year old paperboy at the time, he told me to get lost.
Seriously,
Seriously. I respect you all as fellow reporters, which makes this award all the more meaningful. Many thanks. Especially to Bonnie Asch for not throwing a jealous snit!
How about a rotten tomato? Can I throw that? Now, how about we all get below to that hotel reception?
Was that a Flying saucer?
Carl. Carl! Wow.
Carl McGavin, I come for you. Go team, go, go, go! Sir, can you
give us any idea what it was that crashed into your hotel? Yep, it's a UFO. That's unidentified flying object for you lay people. Now the way I figure it, it's a scout ship from an alien warrior race called Killertrons. And their convoy is Where did it land? Killertrons. What? Oh. Oh, that. Well, it crashed in our pool.
Right through there. Sorry, folks. I'm General Fitzwilliam. And the pool is now a restricted area.
Take me to your leader. Ah, Bonnie! What are you doing here? Same as you, sneaking into a restricted area for the real story. Yeah? Well, guess what? This real story's got an alien popping out of that saucer and calling me by name. Oh, right. He gives you the exclusive. Aw, don't believe me, babycakes. Well, let's do this one together, huh?
Just like old times.
Okay, but I catch you trying to out scoop me and your next trophy will be awarded posthumously. It
sure got foggy awful fast. Carl, doesn't this seem pretty? Carl? CARL?!
No trying to ditch me, Buster. Look! Wet footprints from the pool. It went down this way.
Fitzwillie. Spelled like it sounds. And no, that is not a flying saucer. You gonna chuck this one up to swamp gas and weather balloons too? Like at Roswell? Or Area 51? What about that alien autopsy? Hey, the sci fi convention called. Your geek seat's ready. What is it exactly? People, please. We are investigating the fallen debris, and once we have something to say There!
A Martian! It ran into the banquet room! In the banquet room! Let's get after it! I see it! Halt, Killertron! What's going on? Miss? Nice. Got any of those crab cakes left? It stopped. Good. Then maybe you wouldn't mind getting off.
It's going up to the roof. Let's take the stairs.
Stay back. This could get dangerous. McGavin.
Where is it?
Stay back. This could get dangerous. Wait! We want to talk to you. Free Karaglath prisoners! Bonnie! It's just Bonnie Ash.
Did you see that alien mothership? It's recovered. The saucer. It's an invasion, I tell you. An invasion! That was no mothership. That was a blimp. With just three words, free Caracla prisoners, that alien from space Space instantly became explainable as a Middle Eastern terrorist from the country of Caracla.
And that flying saucer became her downed stealth aircraft that was retrieved by a Caracla rescue ship. For the team of Carl McGavin and Bonnie Ashe, back to you in the studio. No, no, it's a conspiracy! A cover up! That was a Kilotron mothership and it was This Alliance inquiry into Agent Logan's alleged criminal actions at the Seattle Arms Hotel Begins now.
We'll begin with Jefferson Trueblood's testimony. Start from the beginning. At approximately 1, 900 hours, we were tracking the Tribune saucer as it entered our atmosphere. Classified as such by Agent Ty Yet's identification. Tribune, this is your final warning. Leave our airspace or you will be fired upon.
Have it your way.
The strike disabled the saucer. But its trajectory remained constant, the Pacific Northwest. We alerted regional Team 8 in that sector. Oh, my turn. Um, okay, knowing it was a Tribune ship, we had already predetermined several logical destinations, one being the Seattle Arms Journalism Convention. So Team 8 moved in.
Agents Logan and Pereira were already undercover on site. And acting completely professional, no doubt. And then, it hit.
Team 8 arrived soon after to find the Tribune had already encountered one civilian eyewitness. Agent Logan pursued him into a hotel service corridor as Agent Ling proceeded to place the Caracla flag decal in the saucer.
I activated the fog processors placed around the hotel to limit visibility. Then intercepted the arriving press as General Fitzwillie. Fitzwillie? Oh, give me a break. My job is to exaggerate the nature of the crash with an extreme variation of the truth. This was to give the reporters good reason to avoid it as a story possibility once the Caracla cover was released.
Acting in accordance with Operation Damage Control, I have pursued the alien into the hotel utility room, where we mapped heavy resistance.
Your party's raising the roof, and the reporters are eager to dance. Initiate the diversion, and clear the floor. Affirmative. I was in position and in disguise, using my Banshee Aura to duplicate the glowing appearance of the real Tribune. There! A Martian! It ran into the banquet room! Porters went for it.
Hook, line, and stinker. That's, uh, sinker, Schlein? Not stinker? Well, it stunk. Because those reporters were chasing after me through the entire West Wing. But at least it freed up Nick, uh, Agent Logan, to continue after the Tribune.
We figured wrong. I am the Tribune. I carry knowledge. I'm here to enlighten your world and expose the Alliance.
Please, I am of a peaceful race. Yeah, aren't we all? What do you want? To convey knowledge to Carl McGavin. Why? He is a trusted voice to your planet, which now stands at a crossroads. We must guide you down the correct path. I think you'd be amazed at what we humans can accomplish on our own. Really? An end to war, famine, poverty?
Formulas to provide limitless energy? We can provide your world with that knowledge. What could you know about our world? We have visited here in the past. I was once known as Prometheus, the Fire Giver, among others. And we watch you from the skies through our cloaked satellites. You know our secrets, then?
I do. And I know yours, Nicholas Logan. What do you mean? My father? Agent Logan, you are to cease interrogation of this prisoner. Things are not as they seem with the Alliance. Understand, they must be exposed! Please, I have to know what happened to my father. Who took him? Enough, Logan. The Tribune had answers I wanted, and information the world needed.
The Alliance controls what the world needs, Agent Logan. And what gives us the right? Let's say the Tribune presents us with unlimited energy. Then the oil companies collapse, the whole industry gone, millions unemployed, world financial collapse, anarchy, chaos. We'd recover. Humanity is resilient.
Information like that must be controlled, Logan. Slowly released. We're walking a tightrope. And humanity doesn't need the Tribune to knock us off. I had the right to find out what he knew about my father. That crusade of yours has interfered with your duty for the last time. Got it? Trueblood, continue. We took the alien into custody.
But were forced to initiate the contingency plan when two civilians intervened. The Tribune disabled the helijet and attacked the civilian Carl McGavin. It was not an attack. He was saving him from the crashing chopper. I subdued the Tribune while Agent Weyrick established the smoke screen. But he escaped.
Dorian drew on him. Only to have Agent Logan interfere.
Murdered Agent Fitzwillie. Fitzpatrick, to be on alert. I arrived to implement the contingency plan, as the command ship lifted the saucer from the pool. Free Caracla prisoners!
I'm afraid Bonnie Ash dropped as well. After losing her grip.
Carl McGarren, I have a message for you. As the voice of your planet, you are entrusted with this data desk. Share its vast knowledge with mankind in this, your new millennium of enlightenment. You must expose the Roswell Conspiracy. Go!
Get it? Yeah.
Got it. While the real McGavin was rushing to Bonnie's side, this Doctor of Deception intercepted the data disk in the clutch play of the season! Oh yeah! Rah, rah. The Tribune did not survive his escape attempt. Typical. Agent Logan. The charge of malfeasance has been substantiated by testimony. You are guilty of blatantly interfering with the apprehension of a hostile alien.
Have you anything to say in your defense? For a reason that escapes me, there are some aliens that want to help this ungrateful planet. We treated the Tribune like a hostile enemy. I am not comfortable with that. You are hereby sentenced to 30 days in solitary confinement.
Maybe that'll help you become comfortable with it. Nick, I'm sorry. Never be sorry for telling the truth. No matter who wants to control it.
Haven't you learned anything? Are you so afraid of what I represent, General Renika? If I weren't, I'd be a bigger fool than you. I know the truth, Renika. All of it! Yes. And that's why you'll never again. See the light of day.
professional, no doubt. And then, it hit.
Team 8 arrived soon after to find the Tribune had already encountered one civilian eyewitness. Agent Logan pursued him into a hotel service corridor as Agent Ling proceeded to place the Caracla flag decal in the saucer.
I activated the fog processors placed around the hotel to limit visibility. Then intercepted the arriving press as General Fitzwillie. Fitzwillie? Oh, give me a break. My job is to exaggerate the nature of the crash with an extreme variation of the truth. This was to give the reporters good reason to avoid it as a story possibility once the Caracla cover was released.
Acting in accordance with Operation Damage Control, I have pursued the alien into the hotel utility room, where we mapped heavy resistance.
Your party's raising the roof, and the reporters are eager to dance. Initiate the diversion, and clear the floor. Affirmative. I was in position and in disguise, using my Banshee Aura to duplicate the glowing appearance of the real Tribune. There! A Martian! It ran into the banquet room! Porters went for it.
Hook, line, and stinker. That's, uh, sinker, Schlein? Not stinker? Well, it stunk. Because those reporters were chasing after me through the entire West Wing. But at least it freed up Nick, uh, Agent Logan, to continue after the Tribune.
We figured wrong. I am the Tribune. I carry knowledge. I'm here to enlighten your world and expose the Alliance.
Please, I am of a peaceful race. Yeah, aren't we all? What do you want? To convey knowledge to Carl McGavin. Why? He is a trusted voice to your planet, which now stands at a crossroads. We must guide you down the correct path. I think you'd be amazed at what we humans can accomplish on our own. Really? An end to war, famine, poverty?
Formulas to provide limitless energy? We can provide your world with that knowledge. What could you know about our world? We have visited here in the past. I was once known as Prometheus, the Fire Giver, among others. And we watch you from the skies through our cloaked satellites. You know our secrets, then?
I do. And I know yours, Nicholas Logan. What do you mean? My father? Agent Logan, you are to cease interrogation of this prisoner. Things are not as they seem with the Alliance. Understand, they must be exposed! Please, I have to know what happened to my father. Who took him? Enough, Logan. The Tribune had answers I wanted, and information the world needed.
The Alliance controls what the world needs, Agent Logan. And what gives us the right? Let's say the Tribune presents us with unlimited energy. Then the oil companies collapse, the whole industry gone, millions unemployed, world financial collapse, anarchy, chaos. We'd recover. Humanity is resilient.
Information like that must be controlled, Logan. Slowly released. We're walking a tightrope. And humanity doesn't need the Tribune to knock us off. I had the right to find out what he knew about my father. That crusade of yours has interfered with your duty for the last time. Got it? Trueblood, continue. We took the alien into custody.
But were forced to initiate the contingency plan when two civilians intervened. The Tribune disabled the helijet and attacked the civilian Carl McGavin. It was not an attack. He was saving him from the crashing chopper. I subdued the Tribune while Agent Weyrick established the smoke screen. But he escaped.
Dorian drew on him. Only to have Agent Logan interfere.
Murdered Agent Fitzwillie. Fitzpatrick, to be on alert. I arrived to implement the contingency plan, as the command ship lifted the saucer from the pool. Free Caracla prisoners!
I'm afraid Bonnie Ash dropped as well. After losing her grip.
Carl McGarren, I have a message for you. As the voice of your planet, you are entrusted with this data desk. Share its vast knowledge with mankind in this, your new millennium of enlightenment. You must expose the Roswell Conspiracy. Go!
Get it? Yeah.
Got it. While the real McGavin was rushing to Bonnie's side, this Doctor of Deception intercepted the data disk in the clutch play of the season! Oh yeah! Rah, rah. The Tribune did not survive his escape attempt. Typical. Agent Logan. The charge of malfeasance has been substantiated by testimony. You are guilty of blatantly interfering with the apprehension of a hostile alien.
Have you anything to say in your defense? For a reason that escapes me, there are some aliens that want to help this ungrateful planet. We treated the Tribune like a hostile enemy. I am not comfortable with that. You are hereby sentenced to 30 days in solitary confinement.
Maybe that'll help you become comfortable with it. Nick, I'm sorry. Never be sorry for telling the truth. No matter who wants to control it.
Haven't you learned anything? Are you so afraid of what I represent, General Renika? If I weren't, I'd be a bigger fool than you. I know the truth, Renika. All of it! Yes. And that's why you'll never again. See the light of day.