PG-13 for Innuendo, Vaguely offensive remarks, Swearing.
J/P, K/7, C/T, Vorik/Nicoletti.
Dedicated to Eloise Lemay, for the original idea, and the late Douglas Adams, author of "The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy."
Disclaimer: Voyager stuff is © Paramount Pictures. Hitchhiker’s stuff is © Douglas Adams. Ar’nor and the Calnedron are my invention.
Feel free to archive it (I don’t expect anyone will want to...) but please shove my e-mail on it, thegerbil@supanet.com Ta.
The story originally appeared on trek-fiction@yahoogroups.com join today!
The Guide
by Gerbil
Part 1
"It’s what?" demanded Kathryn Janeway, holding the offending article in her hand. Tom Paris was grinning before her.
"Its ‘The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’, captain. I thought it might come in handy," he said. Behind him Harry Kim was fighting to keep a straight face, Chakotay was staring with remarkable interest at a blank viewscreen, and Tuvok had an eyebrow raised almost to his hairline.
"Are you serious?" she asked, relaxing a bit.
"Of course," he said with a controlled voice that would have made Tuvok smile with pride. Of course, Tuvok would never show an emotion like pride, and if he smiled, he wouldn’t have anything to be proud about, as it would mean Tom was a better Vulcan than him, so the preceding sentence is logically flawed, and Tuvok would certainly not like THAT. "Happy birthday."
"Thank you, Tom," she said. "I suppose the rest of you have something as well?"
"Happy birthday, captain" Harry said, offering Kathryn a small, cubical box.
"Mr Kim," she exclaimed, "you shouldn’t have!"
"You’ll say that after you open it as well," Tom cut in. Harry shot him a glare.
Kathryn opened the box to reveal an all too familiar cubic ship. When Kathryn lifted it up, it crumpled in on itself to revel an inscription
"It says ‘Been there, Done that, Got the T-Shirt to prove it.’" She read out. She gave Harry a funny look.
"And this is from Seven," he said, handing her a shirt with an exploding Borg cube, Voyager, and the words ‘Assimilate This!’ on its front. "She left it in my quarters this morning. She was running late," he qualified, blushing a deep red. Chakotay rolled his eyes, Tuvok raised both eyebrows and Tom and Kathryn looked at each other, reminding each other about last week, when they had both been ‘running late’ every other day.
"Tuvok?" she asked "I presume you stayed out of this?"
"On the contrary, Captain, I believe the celebration of a person’s day of birth is a logical occurrence, as it allows the participant to review the past year, and plan for the next. To this end, I wish to present you with this meditation aid, that can change colour when you twist the panels," he replied, nonplussed.
"Tuvok. It’s a Rubik’s cube." Chakotay said.
"Yes, Commander, an ancient Vulcan meditation and relaxation aid."
"Never mind, Chakotay. I’m sure your present wasn’t stolen from any other planets," Kathryn cut in, trying to prevent another argument about whether Humans or Vulcans developed object X first. Tuvok usually won, anyway.
"B’Elanna would disagree, Kathryn," he replied, grinning as he handed her two large, real, books.
"The complete works of Shakespeare in the original English" said one.
"The complete works of Shakespeare in the original Klingon" said the other.
"She choose them, by the way, but we’ll be eating in the mess hall for ever more." He said, grinning to show he was joking. He seemed to do that a lot more nowadays, but then a Klingon always gets her man.
"Neelix has arranged a party for you, captain, so don’t run off after your shift," Tom said "he’s been trying to produce some sausage-like objects all day."
"I wouldn’t miss it for a year’s worth of coffee," she declared.
"Liar" muttered Tom, but nobody heard him.
Captain’s log: Stardate 53470. Well, I’m a year older; possibly a bit wiser; and certainly happier than I was twelve months ago. I think the crew’s happier as well, particularly since we found and got rid of the Psi 2000 virus. Despite the fact that almost everybody on the ship is now part of a couple, we’ve only had one birth, John Carey, although B’Elanna is now pregnant along with Sue Nicoletti and Sam Wildman again. It must be something in the warp coil...
***
Vorik and Tuvok sat in the mess hall meditating. They both had their eyes closed, yet both turned to greet B’Elanna and Sue Nicoletti as they approached. Vorik was coming along well, Tuvok decided. As the only two Vulcans on board they shared something deeper than humans could understand. Yet Vorik was a very untypical Vulcan. His relationship with Lieutenant Nicoletti was highly illogical and potentially disastrous, but it apparently had improved Vorik’s work rate in engineering, and Tuvok had noticed that his concentration had improved greatly. Indeed, Vorik reminded Tuvok of Ambassador Sarek, who performed his greatest accomplishments after his marriage to a human and the birth of his half human son Spock. Perhaps there was something to be said for emotions after all.
Tuvok made his excuses and left, before Vorik and Nicoletti shared an embrace. Tuvok raised an eyebrow and left.
"I’ll see you two tomorrow," said B’Elanna. "And don’t forget those power reports." She grabbed a ‘chicken’ leg from the counter and got into the turbolift.
Vorik assisted Sue to sit down where he had been, before sitting down opposite her. She suddenly burst into laughter.
Vorik merely raised an eyebrow and waited for his mate to explain. When she finally stopped he handed her a glass of water.
"You’re so proud, aren’t you?" she said, sipping the water with a wide smile. "You really don’t want to show it but you do. You’re as excited about all this as I am."
"I am most certainly not excited."
"You are so. Don’t try lying to me, Vorik. I know you too well."
"Whatever you say. You will undoubtedly not give up until you have proved yourself right."
"Are you calling me a nag, Ensign?"
"Certainly not, Lieutenant. I was merely stating a point of fact."
"Logic," stated Sue, and rolled her eyes. "You Vulcans hide your true feelings to well for your own good. And I know that to be true from personal experience."
"Perhaps you are right," replied Vorik blandly.
***
In the beginning, the universe was created.
This has made a great many people unhappy, and is generally considered to have been A Bad Move.
Many different races believe that the universe was created by some sort of god, though the Jatravartid people of Viltvodle VI think that it was really sneezed out of The Nose Of The Great Green Arkleseizure, and live in perpetual fear of The Coming Of The Great White Handkerchief. The Jatravartids are small blue creatures with more than a hundred arms each, and are the only race in the universe to have developed a functional aerosol deodorant before the wheel.
However this theory is not widely accepted, and many races have sought the answer to the universe.
This, as is common knowledge, is 42.
Which brings us to the question, "What was the question?"
Read it again and it’ll make sense.
A large computer was built to try to find the question, and was so large it resembled a planet. Indeed the races that lived on it treated it as planet, having no alternative. However this planet was destroyed just seconds before the answer could be found. It was demolished by a construction fleet to make room for a transwarp conduit on the orders of The Universal Union of Emotional Councillors, who feared they would be redundant if everyone knew why they were alive.
However, several beings from this planet survived, and they grew bitter that they no longer had a home, and no ready supply of take away pizzas. They grew to hate the universe, and take away outlets in particular, as the pizzas were rubbery and tasteless. They shunned food, and replaced their body parts with mechanical parts to stop the need for eating.
Their goal was to make all fast food vendors and councillors like themselves, thereby making the universe perfect. The rest of the universe objected to this and tried to stop them, finally succeeding after much of civilisation was in ruins. They shut the disenchanted in a remote galaxy and surrounded it with a ring of energy that nobody could get through. To keep the prisoners, or "Borg" as they called themselves, busy, and not try to break the barrier, they put several thousand small races in the galaxy as well, for the Borg to conquer.
Then they left the galaxy alone, and went back to eating rubbery pizzas.
But the Borg were not happy. They went about conquering the galaxy with a great vengeance, and soon controlled the better part of it. The remaining races tried to fight back, ignoring the fact that the Borg’s main weakness was a good fluffy pizza. And this is where the 42 comes in. Exactly 42 units of each ingredient are needed to make a perfect pizza.
Unfortunately, no one knows what the ingredients are.
Part 2
"I’m picking up a transwarp signature, Captain. A sphere inbound on 242 mark 47," said Harry Kim from the Ops station on the bridge. He keyed the main viewscreen to show a sphere of metal rushing towards them. "They are transmitting resistance signals."
"Hail them. Raise shields just in case, Tuvok," replied Janeway.
"They are heavily damaged, Captain," Tuvok informed her. "The transmission will be intermittent."
"On screen."
A partially Borg face appeared on the screen. The former drone had obviously managed to remove some of his implants, but kept in any that helped him control the ship. "Captain Janeway, I am Captain Ar’nor of the resistance sphere ‘Calnedron’. We are heavily damaged, and a Borg sphere is on our tail. We could do with your help."
Janeway regarded the being on the screen. His face was pure white, but his own eye was a glorious green. That, coupled with his red laser sensor over the other eye, gave him a strange appearance. His hands were still Borg, but his left shoulder and neck was exposed. Blood was showing down his right hand side, and flames erupted from the consoles behind him.
"I’m reading the Borg sphere now, Captain," Kim said. "They have shields and weapons online."
"Red Alert, all hands to battlestations," said Commander Chakotay.
"Set torpedoes to high yield. Modulate phaser frequencies. All available power to shields," ordered Janeway. "Ar’nor, what can you get from your vessel?"
"We have four phaser turrets active. That’s it."
Janeway made a disgusted sound. "Okay. We’ll lead the attack. Concentrate your fire on any torpedo turrets on the sphere."
"Acknowledged, Captain. And thank you."
"Tuvok, go for their phaser emitters. Ensign Kim, I want full scans. Find any weak points. Tom, full evasive manoeuvres. Engineering, any power you can give me is welcome."
"I’ve got another 7% Captain, but that’s it. And it won’t last long. I’m redlining the warp core as it is."
"Captain, we are being hailed from the Borg Sphere," said Ensign Kim. "Audio only."
"We may as well hear it."
"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Your technological and cultural distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance is Futile."
Tom Paris made a sniffing sound.
"They really should get better PR people."
Captain Janeway collapsed laughing into her chair. Commander Chakotay was shocked for a second before taking control.
"Open fire!"
***
A little known fact about the universe is that none of it really exists.
The reasoning is as follows...
1. The universe is infinite. If it’s not, you’re welcome to show me the edge.
2. As population density is population/unit volume, the population density of the universe is x/infinity, where x must be a finite number, and therefore the population density of the universe is zero.
3. Therefore the chances of two people meeting in the universe are Y times 0, which is zero.
4. This means that any meeting must be imaginary, and therefore not exist.
5. So you never really meet anybody, ever. So everything they make, or say, or do, or imply, doesn’t exist either.
6. Therefore, nothing in the universe exists.
7. Therefore the outward acting pressure on the universe is zero, therefore it must collapse to nothing.
8. Therefore it does not exist.
Any correspondence on this theory may be forwarded to the author. But as neither he nor this piece actually exists, don’t expect a reply.
***
"Shields at 42%, Captain. Aft torpedo launcher is offline. Port nacelle damaged," stated Tuvok, his hands flying across his console, firing beam after beam of energy at the Sphere’s weapons arrays. The other sphere sat behind and above them, pouring energy onto the Borg ship’s outer hull. Both Voyager and the Calnedron were taking damage, but not quite as much as the Borg.
"Tuvok, I’m taking us past the sphere’s starboard side. Prepare to fire all Starboard weapons, and then all fore weapons on my mark," said Tom Paris, straining at the helm to avoid the worst of the incoming fire.
"What are you planning, Lieutenant?" asked Janeway, trying to co-ordinate repair teams from her chair. She was almost finished when suddenly the whole of deck 2 lost gravity. She had a rather funny vision of Neelix’s food floating everywhere before her pilot replied.
"A little known trick called a ‘Handbrake Turn,’ Captain. Brace yourselves."
Voyager sped past the Borg sphere, unleashing a stream of phaser fire at the already damaged ship. Just as he stopped after the pass, Paris fired the Aft-starboard and Fore-port thrusters. This spun the great ship in a tight circle, and the fore end swung round to fire at the Borg sphere, while the Calnedron, anticipating this manoeuvre, passed by on the port side, firing at, and silencing, the Sphere’s remaining guns on that side. Voyager continued to spin, but its forward momentum took it further round the sphere, to the point where the Calnedron had just passed. Now Tuvok opened up on the sphere’s undefended side, cutting through the weak remaining shields, and vaporising the outer hull. The Calnedron came in closer and added its remaining phasers to the assault. A blue gas was seen to escape from the sphere, shortly before a blast hit the engines, and the sphere exploded sending shrapnel all over the place. The last of the Calnedron’s shields were destroyed with this bombardment, and a large chunk was ripped out of its side. Force fields were seen to shimmer into place while Ar’nor hailed Voyager.
"Thank you, Captain Janeway. Your tactics certainly are surprising," he said. Behind him ex-drones worked feverishly, trying to repair their vessel. Only then did Janeway notice that his right arm was missing.
"Are you okay, Captain? We would be more than willing to replace your arm, if you would come over."
"It is of no moment, Janeway. Another Borg arm will be salvaged from the dead. It may seem barbaric, but we can’t waste the resources. We’d been trying to escape from a taskforce of three spheres for a month when we found your warp signature and decide to try and find you. We destroyed two with some cloaked antimatter mines, but one mine detonated early, and we had to retreat. Your resistance grows stronger, Captain. Over fifteen spheres and three cubes have turned against the queen."
"But you are still heavily outnumbered, and the resistance isn’t really my idea. I just got caught up in it’s creation."
"We have guile, and intuition. The queen cannot defend against things that are so unexpected. And it is your resistance, Captain. Whether you want it to be or not."
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe I should come over to your vessel. Your Doctor could have a look at giving me a new arm. I’ll meet you in an hour. Ar’nor out" he ended abruptly. The bridge crew exchanged curious glances.
"What was all that about?" asked Chakotay. Nobody answered.
Part 3
"Alright, Ar’nor. What’s going on?"
Captain Janeway was standing at the entrance to Sickbay, watching Seven and the Doctor fix a new arm onto Captain Ar’nor. He wriggled his fingers experimentally before giving a small satisfied grunt.
"I’m getting a new arm from your most knowledgeable crewmen. What do you think?"
"Very nice. What did you mean about this being my resistance whether I wanted it to be or not?"
"It’s kind of personal."
"Alright, may I escort you to my ready room?"
"It would be a pleasure," he said, rising from the bed and gesturing for her to go first.
***
"What’s happened is quite complicated, and you probably won’t believe most of it."
"Try me."
"It is the Federation’s aim to get rid of the Borg, true?"
"I’d say that it was every race’s aim to get rid of the Borg."
"True." He grinned. Three Voyager crewmen had drawn phasers at him as he walked from sickbay to the ready room. It had taken Janeway quite a bit of persuading to make them put their weapons down. "Anyway, before you destroyed Unimatrix Zero, I found out what it actually was. A representation of the original Borg’s homeworld. It was destroyed for some reason, and they became what they are now."
"A whole planet! How?"
"I don’t know how, or why. But it was. And what was left of the Borg went from a relatively peaceful race to what they are now. They tried to conquer the whole galaxy, and nearly succeeded. Some unknown culture stopped them, and imprisoned them behind the Galactic Barrier in this galaxy, so that they could not escape and go on the rampage again."
"Hang on, what do you mean, ‘This galaxy’?"
"They originated from another, larger, galaxy. Possibly M31, but I’m not sure. This other race planted some smaller races in here as well, to keep the Borg occupied."
"That must have been millions of years ago."
"Yes. That’s possibly why most humanoid races are alike."
"But what about the Galen message? That indicated we were seeded by a race over 4.6 billion years ago."
"A fake. Probably to make us unite against the Borg of our own free will. If we knew we were here to keep the Borg busy, we’d probably try to get out. Will try," he corrected with a wry grin. "Anyway, the information I found included a weapon for use against the Borg. It consists of a list of foodstuffs."
"A what?"
"A list of foodstuffs. Oh, and the number 42."
"We’re meant to defeat the Borg with a recipe?" Janeway was incredulous.
"I said you wouldn’t believe me."
***
We interrupt this story to bring you a special news bulletin.
Relations with Russia have deteriorated to the point where a series of nuclear missiles have been launched by both sides.
The four minute warning has been given, and all citizens are advised to head for any nuclear shelters in their vicinity.
That is apart from readers in Wales, who may now enjoy some excerpts from ‘Anywhere’s Convenient’ by I. P. Freely.
***
"Let me get this straight Captain. We are to destroy the Borg. With a pizza? I know Neelix can cook some interesting ‘food’ but not even his worst could kill a whole race." Commander Chakotay was staring at Janeway and Ar’nor, and disbelief was dripping from his voice.
"I protest, Commander," said Neelix, puffing out his chest.
Chakotay ignored him. "Doctor, I believe the Captain is mentally unfit for duty. I request that you perform a full mental scan on her immediately."
"Go ahead, Doctor, but I’m not mad. We’ve been lucky against the Borg so far, but we all know our luck won’t hold. Neither will the Federation’s, or the rest of the Galaxy’s. Sometime they’ll grow too strong to defeat, and we’ll be done for. I intend a pre-emptive strike. We’ve got a possible lead here, and I intend to use it."
"This is one big risk Captain. We are probably chasing moonbeams here." Harry Kim said.
"I know, Ensign. I know. But we’re already more than halfway there. There are 42 items on the list, and we can provide 25 from our stores or replicators. Ar’nor has a further 14. That leaves only three, all of which Ar’nor has detected in this sector. The ones that remain are," Janeway paused to look at the list. " ‘Cups of Arkenian Fire Water,’ ‘Hands of Kalrisian Iron Shoots,’ and, ‘Gowkanfuls of Hyspilol Dark Cheese.’"
"What do they mean ‘Cups of Fire Water’" Tom Paris asked.
"It seems to indicate a quantity. We don’t know how many" Ar’nor answered. "We gathered up as much as we could of each food. I was hoping you could help with that."
"42" said Seven of Nine.
The room was bathed in silence.
"I beg your pardon?" said Janeway.
"There are 42 items on the list. This suggests that it is the most likely answer to the question, as the number seems to be significant."
Part 4
"So, Captain, just what do we do now?" asked Tom Paris.
"Ar’nor has given the position of the three planets, all we need to do is go there and get the food."
"Why hasn’t he done it?"
"Mr Paris, please be civil. Ar’nor reports that all three planets have a highly intelligent culture living on them. All three have encountered the Borg. If a sphere showed up, they would shoot first and ask questions later."
"Because of our startling appearance, don’t you know?" said Ar’nor in an accented voice. Most of the staff grinned.
"Quite. Which is why we’ll be doing it. We should put them at their ease."
"We’ve got quite a reputation as well, Captain, and many races will have heard of us." Tuvok said.
"Perhaps. But we should get on better than Ar’nor. Plus the wreckage from the other sphere took out most of his engines."
"That is an understatement, Captain," Ar’nor said, grimacing. The expression looked rather out of place on his half-Borg face. "It will be months before we can move again. I would like to accompany you myself. My ship can take care of itself."
"You’re welcome, Captain. You could use Seven’s old alcove in Cargo Bay 2."
"That would be most sufficient, Captain. I will beam over the foodstuffs to the Cargo Bay presently."
"I think that takes care of everything. Any questions?" asked Janeway, and everybody shook their heads. "Fine then. Dismissed."
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***
"Captain Ar’nor reports that he and all the cargo is ready, Captain," said Ensign Kim from the Ops console on the bridge.
"Acknowledged. Mr Paris, lay in a course for the Arkenian system, maximum warp. Mr Kim, full scans of the surrounding area. Engineering, full power to sensors and engines. Bring Ar’nor’s alcove online as well."
"Acknowledged, Captain," came B’Elanna’s response.
"Helm, engage."
"Aye, ma’am. ETA is four days."
"Fine. Chakotay, you have the bridge. I’ll be helping Neelix get Ar’nor settled in.
***
"Nice place."
Captain Ar’nor was sizing up Seven’s old alcove in Cargo Bay 2. She no longer needed it, as she now slept rather than regenerated, and had moved into Ensign Kim’s quarters. Ar’nor, however, still had most of his Borg implants, and so still needed to regenerate and receive energy from the Borg alcove.
"It did Seven well enough for three years. I hope you won’t be needing it for as long. Oops, no offence," Neelix replied, acting as ambassador in settling Ar’nor in.
"None taken."
"Do you eat yet? I can provide a large variety of nutritional supplements..."
"No, thank you Neelix. I’ve been involved with food enough over the past month, but I still get all my energy from the alcove."
"Glad to see you’re settling in fine, Captain," Janeway said, coming in through the door at that point.
"You have a fine and tidy ship, Captain. It is certainly a change after spending a month on a damaged sphere."
"Just out of curiosity, how did you manage to acquire all this food?"
"We traded. Most local cultures have heard of the resistance, so they were quite co-operative. We could probably have finished the job, but we didn’t want to go anywhere near an inhabited system once those three spheres got on our tail. It could have lead to complications."
"I see. If you need anything at all, give Neelix a shout," she said, handing him a communicator. "We should arrive in the Arkenian system in four days."
"Thank you, Captain. I feel the need to regenerate now, if you’ll excuse me."
"Certainly, Captain. The ship’s about to cycle over to night anyway."
"I’ll see you tomorrow then, Captain," and with that he stepped back and plugged into the alcove. Neelix and Janeway walked back out into the corridor.
"Good night, Neelix," Janeway said as Neelix headed towards the hydroponics bay.
"Sleep tight, Captain," he replied, and Janeway smiled at him before the turbolift doors closed between them.
"Deck 3," she ordered the turbolift, and it sped up through the ship. Suddenly, she was hit by doubt. This must be the stupidest thing she had ever done. Trying to defeat the Borg with a pizza! She really should get the Doctor to give her a check up.
The turbolift stopped and the doors opened. She quickly stepped out and headed towards her quarters. Lieutenant Paris was already standing outside.
"Don’t tell me it’s locked you out, again!" she exclaimed. He grinned back.
"I don’t think the computer approves," he whispered in her ear after enfolding her in a hug.
"She can just ignore us, then, because I won’t give in."
"I wouldn’t put money on it, Kathryn," Tom said with a wide grin just as the door opened and his captain pulled him inside.
Part 5
Engineering was quiet during the night shift three days later. All the repairs that needed to be done had been done, everything that could wait was waiting, and almost everybody that usually was on duty at this time was measuring out food for Captain Ar’nor. Only Vorik remained as Lt. Carey took over from B’Elanna at the start of the watch. The young Vulcan was nearing the end of fixing the auxiliary power nodes around Engineering that had been blown when ten times the rated maximum current had flowed through them during the battle. Carey looked along the Jeffries tube that he was working on.
"How are the nodes, Vorik? Do you have an ETR?" he asked.
"I should be finished within the next half hour, Lieutenant." Vorik replied
"Good. After you’ve done that, Seven and Captain Ar’nor are trying to replicate more of his food, but some of doesn’t scan with a tricorder. They want you to hook up the scanning systems of a transporter pad to the replicator systems, so that the patterns are stored in the replicator database."
"Interesting idea. Very logical"
"Yes. Then send somebody back up here, and go get some sleep."
"I am not fatigued."
"Look. Even a Vulcan must be tired after an 18-hour shift. Get some sleep."
"I am not tired."
"Let me rephrase that. Get some sleep, Ensign."
"Yes sir."
"Good. Say hi to Sue for me."
***
Cargo Bay 2 was a complete mess. Boxes of food lay everywhere, several of the ship’s spare transporter pads lay in pieces, and nine engineers, along with Seven and Ar’nor, were working on them. As Vorik came in he noticed that there were three replicators lying in pieces as well.
"Ensign Vorik," called Seven. "I require your assistance."
Vorik hurried over towards her, taking care not to step on any equipment. She had stripped a replicator and transporter and was trying to interlink them.
"I am unable to join these two systems, Ensign. However I physically join them, they will not work when I attempt to scan anything."
"The software in the two systems are incompatible, Ma’am. If the replicators were linked to a transporter circuit, it is conceivable that copies of a transport subject could be created."
"You are referring to cloning."
"Yes. A similar occurrence happened on the USS Potemkin, resulting in the cloning of Commander, then Lieutenant, William Riker."
"How may I resolve this problem?" asked Seven.
"New programs would have to be written for the replicators. Written command permission, along with that of the Chief Engineer, is required."
"I will write the program tomorrow, after I have regenerate... I mean slept. I believe Lieutenant Nicoletti is an expert on software such as this?"
"Yes. I’m sure she will be happy to help."
"Tell her that I will meet her in Engineering at 0800. I must get permission first, and both Captain Janeway and Lieutenant Torres are off duty."
"Is that all, Ma’am?"
"Yes. Thank you, Ensign."
"You are welcome."
Vorik turned and saw Ensign Lang about to exit the room. Vorik called to him.
"What can I do, sir?" asked the younger Ensign.
"Lieutenant Carey is alone in engineering, and asked me to send someone up."
"Fair enough. See you tomorrow, Vorik."
"That is very likely."
Lang laughed and turned towards the nearest turbolift. Vorik raised an eyebrow before following. Perhaps Sue would know why Lang had laughed.
***
"You think I’m mad, don’t you?" Captain Janeway asked Tom Paris.
They were in her quarters the next morning, getting dressed for the bridge. Kathryn had been messing about with her hair for five minutes.
"Isn’t that part of the job description?" asked Tom with an innocent expression. He was watching her from across the room, content to let her image burn itself onto his retinas. She turned round to pull a face when a clump of hair fell out of her bun, giving her a faintly bedraggled look. She scowled and put it back.
"You should have it cut." Tom noted. "No, you’re not mad. Probably slightly senile in your old age, but not mad." He turned serious. "A fair amount of the crew probably think so though. I mean, it is a long shot. A pizza destroying the Borg, for crying out loud. Anybody would think this was all fiction."
"You never know. This could all be another of Q’s games, for all we know."
"You’re following a hunch, aren’t you?"
"Yes. I know this will work out for the best, somehow," she said, getting up out of her chair.
"That depends on how you define ‘best’, doesn’t it?" Tom ended, rising to escort her to the bridge.
***
After delivering his captain to the bridge, Paris headed for a four hour stint in Sickbay. The doctor had used quite a lot of his supplies during and after the battle, and new drugs and equipment had to be replicated and inventoried.
Paris hated sickbay duty. Not only could he not fly the ship, but he couldn’t be with Kathryn, and had to put up with the Doctor’s singing and general attitude.
"Good morning, Lieutenant," said the Doctor as Paris walked in.
"No, actually. It’s not."
The Doctor sighed. "I know you don’t like sickbay duty, Lieutenant, but it’s as important to the running of the ship as the helm."
"I know that. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it."
"Correction," stated the computer. "Sentence should not have started with the word ‘But’."
Tom stood still in absolute silence.
"What was that all about?" he asked.
"A new program, to improve the grammar of the crew. I am fed up with slang words, imprecise meanings and general bad grammar."
"Kathryn put you up to this, didn’t she?"
"Correction," stated the computer. "Captain Janeway should be referred to by rank."
"No, actually she did not. It was all my own idea."
"Does this just work in sickbay? She’ll kill you if she keeps getting corrected on the bridge."
***
Kathryn was sitting in her ready room looking over Seven’s request to write new software for the replicators. She got up to get some coffee.
"Coffee, hot," she told the replicator.
"Correction," stated the computer. "Request should be suffixed by the clarifier ‘please’."
"What?" demanded Janeway, not getting her, much needed, coffee.
"Correction," stated the computer. "Sentence does not have a verb. Correction. Sentence does not have a subject."
"Tom did this didn’t he?"
"Correction," stated the computer. "Lieutenant Paris should be referred to by rank."
"I’ll refer to him by some other things when I get my hands on him." She hit her commbadge. "Janeway to Paris."
"It was the Doctor," he said before she could accuse him of anything. "He says he won’t switch it off until the crew can speak proper English."
Janeway said a short ugly word.
"Correction," stated the computer. "Word is unsuitable for use on duty. Correction. Sentence does not have a verb. Correction. Sentence does not have a subject."
Kathryn put her head in her hands and wept.
Part 6
"Delete it, or I’ll delete you!" yelled B’Elanna Torres at the Doctor just as Kathryn and Chakotay entered.
"All right, all right. Don’t get so excited," said the Doctor, retreating behind a bed.
"Have you any idea how many abbreviations engineers use every day? 42 in 5 minutes. It counted them, and corrected every single one," B’Elanna snarled, raising her fist. The Doctor shrank back again.
"Delete it, Doctor, now," Janeway stated.
"But Capt..."
"Now, Doctor. You can consider that a direct order."
"Yes sir."
"Good. And don’t do anything like this ever again, or I’ll alter your program to make you 3 feet tall. Understood?"
***
Harry Kim had been asleep during the Doctor/grammar episode, and so the first thing he heard about it was when Tom told him at lunch. He made the mistake of finding it funny.
"Stop laughing, for crying out loud!" Tom told him. "B’Elanna was within seconds of deleting him!"
That just started him off again.
"You haven’t forgotten about Saturday night, have you?" he asked Tom when he finally got his breath back.
"I don’t know Harry. Somehow it doesn’t seem right this year."
"But you invented the thing, and it’s the vital third year."
"The what?"
"The vital third year, where any event either makes it or falls by the wayside."
"Are you trying to be funny?"
"Me? Would I do a thing like that?"
"Seven’s changed you, my friend."
"I know," said Harry, smirking. Tom swore.
"So, are you in or not? I’ve had 22 entries already, including new ones from Chell and Joe Carey."
"Joe? Sam’ll kill him if she finds out. You know how much she respects the captain."
"He’s the one who got married. We even tried to talk him out of it."
"I’m surprised you remember, considering how drunk you were that night."
"I wasn’t as bad as you were at Vorik’s stag night."
"Never try to match drinks with a Vulcan."
"Never truer. So, are you in or not?"
"Why don’t I judge? I should be able to justify that to her."
"Fair enough. I’ll pass the word the third annual Captain’s Orders Innuendo Competition is go for Saturday night."
"Just don’t get caught, okay? I quite like my head where it is."
***
Arkenian Customs are the simplest in known universe. You merely have to state if you are carrying anything that could be used to cause harm to any living being. If you are, you are locked in place in orbit by tractor beams, and forbidden to land.
Strangely enough, no ship has ever been allowed down.
The Customs officer who dealt with Voyager’s request raised all four of his eyebrows at Voyager’s arsenal, and muttered something about killing all the scientists.
Voyager was placed as far away from the planet as possible.
On board, Neelix swapped 24 bottles of Brandy for 42 cups of Arkenian Fire Water, which turned out to be much the same as very dilute Whisky, with a young Arkenian with very small, green eyes.
Rumours that the man’s weekly night out went with more of a swing than usual are in no way connected, as the fourteen women involved will be able to tell you.
Harry continued to organise the Third Annual Captain’s Orders Innuendo Competition, and Tom continued to pray he didn’t get caught.
Commander Chakotay struck it lucky and found a old looking Arkenian male with large, bloodshot eyes who had some Kalrisian Iron Shoots and was looking for some a cure for a really bad headache. He kept cursing something called "Prandhay" during the negotiations.
The Doctor kept his head down and out of the way. He did not mention the crew’s standard of grammar again, but thought rather wistfully that Kes would have understood him.
***
When the crew were finally finished, Tom took them out of orbit and set a course for the Hyspilol system.
"ETA five days, two hours." He announced.
"But that’s late on Saturday," Harry blurted out. Tom closed his eyes and swore very quietly and frequently.
"Problem, Ensign?" asked Kathryn.
"No captain," replied Harry just a bit too quickly. "We had hoped for the evening off, but..." he left it hanging, slowly turning pink.
Janeway raised an eyebrow. "It’s night time now anyway. Why don’t you go and appease Seven now?"
Harry turned bright red and bolted.
"Young men," she said, laying her hand on Tom’s shoulder, "are all the same."
Tom continued swearing.
***
Now I bet I know what you’re thinking. We can all see that Kathryn’s changed a bit. She’s got a sense of humour for one thing, and a certain pilot wound round her little finger for another. Or was she always like that.
Anyway this is a PG13, so we won’t be giving any dire secrets.
But I bet you really want to know what goes on behind the door to Kathryn’s cabin. Or, to put it bluntly, do they, well, you know, do, that is to say, uh, "Discuss Uganda".
And the answer is "What the hell are you on about?"
Followed closely by "None of your bloody business."
Anyway, if you’re really curious, the answer is in part 7. Those who are more mature and not bothered can go straight to part 8.
Be warned, it was a pretty boring 5 days, and there wasn’t really all that much to do.
Part 7
Tom put his hands Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored. Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored. Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored. Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored Censored. "Oh Censored Censored Censored" he said.
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"Very nice," said Kathryn, and promptly fell asleep.
I did say it was a PG13, didn’t I? Serves you right, and now go and wash all those dirty thoughts out of your head.
Part 8
Voyager arrived at the Hyspilol homeworld a very boring five days later. She slid through the docking lanes and took up her assigned orbit with not so much as a judder. For some reason all the other ships avoided her.
"Word gets around," muttered Tom Paris.
Now, in Tom’s defence, it should be noted that he was technically correct. It was only the source that was wrong.
But I’m jumping ahead of myself.
The docking clerk took a double take when Janeway’s face appeared in his monitor.
"Ah, Captain Janeway. I have been most privileged to hear much about thee and thy magnificent vessel of late ," he said.
"It’s a pleasure to be here. We only require a small trading deal, it shouldn’t take long at all, not that I wouldn’t want to stay longer, of course," she replied.
He smiled rather nervously. "Thou art as diplomatic as thou art beautiful, my Lady. Misfortunately, all vessels of an alien registry needs must undergo a trifling examination ere they be permitted to dock at our fair world. I would, therefore, request that thee would allow a small party of five officers of our planet to board thy fair and, doubtless legal, vessel ere I may file thy trading proposal."
"Thine adherence to the law does thee much honour, my friend. I would gladly welcome thy inspectors that we may commence our business on thy fair planet presently."
"Thy speech is most magnificent, Captain. I hope that thee and thy crew do truly enjoy themselves fully on our humble planet, and that thy business does not take thee overlong. One of my erstwhile colleagues shall inform thee of thine inspection time presently. Docking control out."
Chakotay raised an eyebrow.
"I learnt it for a production of Hamlet when I was younger. I know it sounds clumsy, but the grammar’s remarkably easy," Kathryn told him rather pertly.
"I don’t doubt it, but it sounded more like the 14th century than the 24th."
"Classic literature is timeless," she replied. "It’s 1800 hours, would you like to join Tom and I for a meal?"
"Don’t mind if I do."
"Actually, Captain, I promised Harry that I would help him with his pool competition tonight," Tom said.
"A pool competition, and I wasn’t invited? I’m shocked, Lieutenant."
"We want to win one once in a while. Besides, he wanted a chat about some things," he replied, holding up seven fingers so that both Harry and the Captain could see them.
"Ah," said Kathryn, taking the hint. "I see. Maybe you’ll can join us later."
"Hopefully. Come along Harry," he added, heading for the turbolift.
***
"You idiot!" Harry almost screamed at him. "What will the Captain think now?"
"I don’t know, but you deserved it for last Monday. Besides, don’t you want to marry Seven?"
Harry choked. "Marriage! It’s not that serious!"
"Seven seems to think so. She’s got a ‘marrying’ glint in her eye."
Harry started shaking.
"Start running, my friend. It’s a small ship though, so I don’t really rate your chances."
***
Okay, lets skip forward a couple of hours. The "pool competition" is in full swing, Kathryn is teaching Chakotay mediaeval grammar in the mess hall, Seven is helping Vorik and B’Elanna in engineering since Joe Carey has taken the shift off, and a party of 5 Hyspilol customs officers are waiting at the airlock. It should be noted that the officer due to inspect the environmental subsystems is carrying a normally illegal canister of nerve gas.
***
"That was close," said Harry as they resumed their seats after the pool tables had disappeared. In accordance with their alibi, the two senior officers had modified Sandrine’s so that a "pool competition" appeared whenever someone else walked past the corridor. However, this had the unfortunate side effect of deactivating the Doctor while the change was taking place. The Doctor informed engineering, and B’Elanna sent Seven and Vorik to sort it out. They had just entered the holodeck when the aforementioned nerve gas was released into the main life support systems. The Holodeck was unaffected, due to the separate containment procedures.
***
Alright, I know that it’s not my usual style, but I’m bored. There’s a really good bit coming up and I can’t wait to get there.
Which reminds me... Stress is a major problem in our society today, and so, to prevent any shocks and possible future psychological damage, I will divulge certain facts about the future of this story now.
- The entire crew, apart from the people in the holodeck, get kidnapped.
- The Borg appear.
- Someone bruises their knuckles on a console.
- Someone finds an alternative use for a self-sealing stem bolt.
To preserve some sense of mystery, I will not divulge the names of the characters in 3 and 4, nor the location of the console in 3, nor the location of the stem bolt in 4.
***
"We’re 25 short! I had told thee that thy plan was amiss!"
"Alright, Alright. They wouldst surely not leave orbit without their Captain. Our mission is as good as done."
"But 25 of them are astray! We will be punished most sorely!"
"Quiet, Knave! Thine unseemly questioning of mine orders doth screech in mine ears, and presently I shall grow irritable."
"They do awake, Sire."
"Truly. Let us depart ere we must shed blood."
The door to the airlock hissed shut.
***
Seven noticed something was wrong as soon as Vorik collapsed when the holodeck. Since this was not normal behaviour for Vulcans, she knelt to inspect his inert form, only to hear several thumps behind her. Scanning the air, she found traces of a nerve toxin, as well as alcohol vapours. Knowing that none of the pool players had seemed to be drinking, she discarded communal drunkenness as a possible cause, and filed this data point away for future use. On the issue of the nerve gas, she ordered the computer to purge the life support systems.
Vorik stirred. Seven heard loud moaning behind her indicated that the humans, and Chell, were waking up as well. Vorik opened his eyes.
"What happened?" he asked.
"You were apparently poisoned by some sort of nerve gas. I have cured the problem."
"Is everyone else alright?"
"I am unsure. Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway," she said, hitting her commbadge. There was no response.
"Computer, where is the Captain?" she asked.
"Captain Janeway is not on Voyager," it stated.
"Commander Chakotay," she stated, hitting her commbadge again. Again, there was no response.
"Where is Commander Chakotay?" Vorik asked the computer, swaying slightly as he rose to his feet.
"Commander Chakotay is not on Voyager."
"Who is on Voyager then?" Seven asked, just a bit exasperated.
"There are 30 beings on Voyager."
"Where?"
"There are 23 humans, 1 Bolian and 1 Vulcan in Holodeck 1. 5 Hyspilol guards have exited airlock 4 since the scan."
"Did all the other crew members exit through airlock 4?"
"Affirmative."
"What was the medical status of the crew when they exited?"
"They were all unconscious."
Seven gulped, realisation hitting her in the stomach.
"Who is the ranking officer on board?"
"Lieutenant Thomas Eugene Paris."
Part 9
Tom looked again at the representation of the detention centre where most of his crew were being held and swore. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately, but this time he was deadly serious about it. He glanced around his small audience, straightened his back, and begun.
"We’re in trouble," he said.
"Seven has managed to pull this diagram together from the surface communications. She will now explain how much trouble we’re in. Seven."
"Thank you, Sir. The hostages are being held in this secure block. The cells are arrayed in a grid of ten by ten. Using the corridors as a guide, and a standard co-ordinate system, there is a shuttle port at zero-zero. The main control for this level replaces the four cells surrounding five-five. It includes a barracks, cookhouse, armoury and our main target.
"The level is patrolled by approximately 200 guards," Seven said, taking a deep breath.
"It is also protected by an energy dampening field that means we cannot use phasers on this mission."
"What!" several people exclaimed at once.
"How do we do it then?" asked Vorik, which was more to the point.
"Most of the security personnel are trained in the use of Bat’telhs, throwing knifes and the like. I can use a rapier, and we can replicate crossbows for the rest. They fire just like phasers, anyway," replied Tom.
"Aren’t we rushing into this?" asked Joe Carey. "I want my wife back as much as anybody else does, but I’m no good to her dead."
"We don’t have any choice. I didn’t want to show you this, but..." he left it hanging.
An image of 5 Borg cubes and a Diamond appeared on the screen.
"Standard light planetary assimilation task force. ETA 7 hours, 38 minutes," stated Seven. Nobody broke the ensuing silence.
"Does the planet know?" someone asked.
"Yes, they said, ‘We knowest this, vile knave, and now shalt thou have thy comeuppance,’ or words to that effect. I suspect that they may have been offered something by the Borg to capture us. I intend that we repay them fully," Tom said, his fists clenching.
"We leave in 3 hours from shuttlebay 1," said Tom. "Vorik, I want a full report on the ship’s status. I also want to be able to use the transporter through that dampening field. Get it modified as soon as possible. You’ll be staying up here anyway."
"Sir, I must protest," he replied. For the first time the young Vulcan seemed shocked.
"I know you want to go down, Vorik, but I need those transporters. We may need to get people out in a hurry."
"Yes," he replied. "Sir," he added, somewhat sullenly.
"You don’t have to like it, Ensign. You just have to do it. Everybody else will split into teams of 5. Myself, Seven and Crewman Chell will co-ordinate the mission and withdrawal from the shuttle port. The Doctor, as the ECH, will be in command of Voyager from the bridge. You all have some preparation to do. We will meet in 3 hours. Harry, I want a word before you go. Everyone else, get ready."
***
Way hay!!! Some kick-ass action at last. Now, do I really need to tell you that it’s not clever to stick rapiers into people, or hit them with funny looking swords? Thought so. Don’t do it, or, if you do, don’t tell anyone that you’ve read this.
"All set, Tom?" asked Harry Kim, catching up with Tom outside the shuttlebay. The nominal commander of the mission had a rapier strapped to his side, and was walking as if he was born with the appendage.
"As ready as I’ll ever be, Harry. I just wish someone would check all this for me."
"Munro said it was as good as anything Tuvok or himself would come up with. That seems high enough praise for me."
"Maybe. But I still think it’s a long shot."
"Of course it is. We’re outnumbered, outgunned and out of time. We’re only doing it out of desperation."
"That’s a lot of outs. Why don’t we just cut our loses and go? I don’t want to get everyone killed."
"Better dead than Borg. Love, Tom, that’s why. You love Kathryn, that’s why you’re going to take on 200 armed guards with a knitting needle. Vorik loves Sue, that’s why he’s trying to sneak onto the Flyer."
"I am not, Ensign Kim," said a Vulcan accent from just around the corridor. "I am merely reporting that I cannot modify the transporters and that it really would be better if I went with you."
"Denied, Ensign," said Tom. "You’ll stay here and get those transporters working, or you’ll spend a year or five in the brig. I’m the senior officer on board, and this isn’t a democracy. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Now, remember what I told you. Don’t let the Borg get an atom of Voyager."
"Yes, sir. Live Long and Prosper, sir," he added, giving the Vulcan salute. Tom gravely returned it and watched the Vulcan walk off back to engineering. He turned back to Harry, who had a shocked expression on his face.
"You gave Vorik access to the self-destruct?" Harry asked.
"No," Tom said. "I told him and the Doc to get out of here if we get done in too much. They’re to try and deliver Voyager to Earth, or at least prevent the Borg getting it."
"We’ll win, Tom. This is just too stupid to be a disaster. I mean, attacking people who speak fluent medieval with medieval weapons and who outnumber us 8 to 1. I mean, it’s just like a game."
"I’ll kill Q if it is."
"I’ll hold your coat."
Tom laughed, which was Harry’s objective. They went into the shuttlebay and separated. Harry was taking the Cochrane down, Tom the Flyer, along with Seven and Chell, who was violently atmosphere sick on the way down.
Yes, I just made the term up. Are you here to read or argue?
***
The initial landing went to plan. In fact, everything was going swimmingly until Chell accidentally set the alarms off by miss-spelling Hyspilol on a fake security transmission. He received a lot of abuse for that from Tom, who was trying to find the cells containing the prisoners. He started at "bloody incompetent" and steadily got worse.
Harry, leading a team of 3 swordsmen and a crossbow carrier, had downed 5 guards already by that point, so it was just a matter of time before the alarm was going to be raised anyway. After all, they had shot the doors into many small bits just to get in. The guards hadn’t expected it as there is a well known equation that states that intelligence is inversely proportional to the age of the language.
As he found the first cell containing voyager crew, Harry realised something was wrong. The flashing lights alerted him to this fact, as did the screeching noise, and the fact that both were emanating from a prison guard’s phaser. He dived for cover, and told Tom that he was quite concerned about this.
Please note that the language used by Ensign Kim at this point was not very pleasant, and contained several words that no polite being should know the meaning of.
Tom told him to shut up and start shooting, while he sorted out what had happened to the dampening field.
What exactly had happened will have to wait until next time, as I have dramatic tendencies.
Part 10
Harry shot his crossbow at the guard, and ducked back in against the wall. He hit his head on a notice that said "This be the gravitational control for the deck thou standest on." While reloading his crossbow, he noticed a bank of switches, all marked "on" and "off". This clicked in his mind, and he hit all shouted a warning in his commbadge as he hit all the switches. His crewmates heard him, and held on while he reversed the gravity. The prison guards now had the unenviable sensation of falling ten feet upwards head first. This seemed to surprise a few of them, as they lay spread-eagled on the ceiling and moaning.
Harry hit the switches again.
Now they fell down.
Harry repeated this a few times, until the guards got bored and went to sleep.
"Nice one, Harry," said Tom.
"Thanks. Now all we need to do is unlock a few doors."
"Not you. Get to the cookhouse and look for some dark cheese."
"How much?"
"All you can find, and hurry. We really don’t want to be here at all."
Easy wasn’t it? Just goes to show that you shouldn’t give up, even when your back’s against the wall. Or ceiling, in this case.
Harry broke into the Kitchen and covered the whole wall with his crossbow.
The wall did not move.
The mess hall was that in every sense of the word. There was food every where, bits of food everywhere, and bits of cook everywhere, as he had been using a dicer when the gravity went on and off.
It was not pretty.
Harry scoured the room for some cheese, and was about to give up when he realised that some of the food was replicated. He only found this because a few of the tables had signs saying "Thou knaves that would use the vile food machines shall sit here all alone and contemplate thy knavery, lest I become irritable and use thee as this evening’s meal." Chefs all over the galaxy, Harry noticed, were much the same.
He entered his request for several pounds of dark cheese into the machine in a dodgy imitation of the local accent. When it replied "Do thou press thy thumb ‘gainst the small red panel ere I grant thee thy nourishment," he worried a bit, but then borrowed the cook’s thumb. The cook didn’t seem to want it anymore, as it was several yards from most of the rest of the cook.
"Get a move on, Harry," his commbadge said in Tom’s voice. "We still have to find Ar’nor and the rest of the senior staff, and Seven’s detected some reinforcements at around ten-ten."
"I’ll be there presently. I got the cheese."
"Good. Now get back here. Paris out."
It should be noted at this point that the Hyspilol prison cells were lined with bouncy stuff to stop the prisoners hurting themselves. As well as being extremely courteous, this is extremely useful as it allows me to keep the prisoners conscious, and therefore able to play a part in the story other than just being lumps to be hauled about.
Tom had set up a defensive perimeter around the shuttles, and many newly-freed crew were grabbing weapons and joining in the fun. The senior crew had been found, as had the prison reinforcements, and there was now a race to see who could get back first.
In the interests of suspense, it was a dead heat.
Tom handed command over to Kathryn even as a volley of phaser fire passed overhead. Several crossbow bolts went back along the same route, to be followed by slightly less phaser fire and some moaning and cursing.
Three shuttles were hovering just outside the doors, at the point where the dampening field ended, transporting crew back up to Voyager in a kind of relay. Many crewmen felt jumbled up at this, pointing out that next time they would walk thank you very much.
"I teleported home one night,
With Ron and Sid and Meg.
Ron stole Meggie’s heart away,
And I got Sidney’s leg."
Inside the building, however, the dampening field was still in effect. This went from a convenient plot to a very inconvenient plot indeed when Sue Nicoletti caught a phaser shot in the neck and crumpled to the ground.
"Vorik, I need those transporters now!" shouted Janeway, even as Tom applied a field dressing to Sue’s neck. The dampening field was blocking his more advanced medical equipment, and his cursing was not noticeably changing the situation.
"I’m losing your wife, Vorik! For God’s sake do something!" Tom yelled.
Vorik didn’t hear the last bit. At the word ‘wife’ he had let out a primal scream and smashed both his hands against the unresponsive transporter console.
Then he did it again, but this time balled his fists.
This impact fractured several circuit breakers, causing a large surge to flow through the transporter beam, and into the dampening field. The convenient result was that the dampening field collapsed, allowing the remaining, working transporters to lock onto Tom and Sue and beam them to sickbay.
Vorik raised an eyebrow and rubbed his knuckles, which were quite sore.
As Voyager left orbit with all its crew and shuttles back on board, the Borg task force entered it, only to leave again in pursuit of Voyager.
The Doctor was stabilising Sue Nicoletti in Sickbay while Tom flew as fast as he could. Ar’nor and Seven were helping in engineering while B’Elanna tried to workout how to go even faster. Neelix was cooking like a man possessed. Thus it was for over an hour.
Cue dodgy silent films chase music.
Then the Pizza was distributed to all crew, and this time they did prepare to be assimilated. The shields were lowered, and three Borg beamed on to the bridge. One advanced towards Captain Janeway, who calmly waited until it raised its arm.
And rammed the pizza down its throat.
Sorry, cheap theatrical trick time. It’s a cliff-hanger.
Part 11
The Borg collapsed, a rather stupid looking smile on its face, and gasped with pleasure. The other two imitated this action perfectly. In fact, the Borg ships also did this, as the wave of absolute pleasure of the perfect pizza swept through their systems. This was all very well, but being in close proximity to six exploding ships is not recommended. Janeway arrived at the same conclusion.
"Get us out of here, now!" she yelled.
Tom pushed at his console. It did nothing.
"I have no engines! Warp drive broken, Impulse engines down, thrusters down!" he yelled.
B’Elanna was shocked at this, and stared at the offending warp core. She saw something floating in it. Someone had put a self sealing stem bolt in her warp core.
"Where is Captain Ar’nor?" Seven asked.
"Oh Fu..." said Tom Paris, who was cut off as the explosion from the Borg ships ripped Voyager apart at the atomic level.
Captain Ar’nor sat in the Delta Flyer.
He looked at the padd the Universal Union of Emotional Counsellors had given him.
He placed a little tick in the box next to the line "Destroy the Borg."
He put on some light music.
End