Doctor Scully and the Invasion of the Quantum Turtles
by Adrian. D. Ives (AdrianIves@email.msn.com)

Category: Humour, XOver, some UST & MSR
Rating: PG (occasional bad language)
Disclaimer: See end of file


Acknowledgements: Special thanks to Tyler Dion for beta
reading and checking/correcting my "American" English.


Summary ...

OK, I know I *said* that "The Trial of a Time Travelling FBI 
Agent" would be the last ever Doctor Scully adventure.

... but I lied :-)

So she's back, in an all-new six part adventure to open Season 
Two ... and straight away it's the start of a race against 
time, to save all of humanity from total and utter extinction, 
at the hands of a horde of warmongering, hideous, 
sadistic, villainous, unhygienic, slimy, and thoroughly 
nasty, extra-dimensional carnivorous turtles from beyond 
space!

With Scully not talking to Mulder, Mulder not talking to 
Scully, Skinner developing a disturbing predilection 
towards turtle meat, Cigarette Smoking Man trying to kick 
the habit, Krycek arrested for impersonating a Russian 
citizen, Marita Covarrubias arrested for impersonating 
somebody infinitely more interesting than herself, Agent 
Pendrell reincarnated as a sex-starved aquatic mammal, 
The Consortium under investigation by the Actors Guild of 
America, world leaders in panic ... and the whole future of 
mankind hanging in the balance; can The Doctor save the 
planet from imminent and certain armageddon ... and still 
get back home in time for tea and crumpets?



--- TEASER ---



: United States Strategic Air Command
: 3rd Extra-Terrestrial Threat Rapid Response Wing
: Oak Forge Air Force Base
: North Dakota


"Shit!"

Major General John 'Kicker' Trenchard had chewed so 
hard on the unlit Havana cigar that he'd bitten clean 
through it; and now it hung limply between his teeth, like 
the dormant olfactory appendage of a young elephant. 
Through a totally inappropriate and ill-fitting pair of dark 
glasses, he continued to study the big Sit Rep panel that 
spanned the far wall of the control room.

Overlaid on a huge computer generated map of the United 
States, a swarm of very large disc-shaped objects were 
moving in from the West Coast, crossing the shoreline just 
over Los Angeles at speeds approaching mach two, and 
heading inland towards the major military and industrial 
complexes ... in exactly the way that a friendly visiting 
delegation from another star system would not.

"We're now getting one hundred forty seven distinct 
traces." Sarah Kent, the senior duty technician, was 
looking tired and concerned, and her eyes were ringed 
from the lack of sleep. She tapped icons on the touch 
sensitive screen, and waited for the graphics to stabilise 
and form an updated map of the enemy deployment. "The 
SDI Track Sats show a further twelve hostiles descending 
into the upper atmosphere."

Trenchard opened his mouth to bark another order, what 
was left of the cigar suddenly dropping to the floor in front 
of him; but, before he could say anything, another report 
came bellowing over the loudspeakers.

"This is The Non-Terrestrial Threat Detector," the digitally 
synthesised voice once more announced its identity to 
everyone in the room, its strangely soothing bass tones 
gently resonating throughout the vast chamber.

Seven hundred kilometres above them, in high 
geostationary orbit, the sentient satellite had remained 
reassuringly silent, maintaining its watchful eye on the 
heavens surrounding the Earth. Since its launch some 
three years earlier, when the Counter Extra-Terrestrial 
Threat Organisation had first been created by the major 
world powers, it had had nothing to say, nothing to report. 
Now, after that brief period of uneasy silence, during which 
the peoples of Earth had watched the skies, and waited for 
that very first contact; it had found the need to give voice 
to its electronic thoughts for the fourth time in as many 
hours.

In an unhurried, unconcerned, tone, it began its ominous 
report. "Warning: ... Twelve unidentified orbital craft 
descending towards the eastern seaboard of the United 
States ... Entry trajectory: sixty seven point four degrees ... 
Velocity: Mach eight point three one ... Estimated time to 
intercept: seventy-nine seconds."

"It's a goddamned invasion," Trenchard drawled. "That's 
what it is!"



< Hard cut to effects shot: triple exploding starburst; 
optical+audio >

< Roll title sequence and main theme >