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Tales from the Shattered Voyager.

Guy Gardener

Fleet Admiral
Admiral
Part One.

True story, a thousand years ago this Klingon half way through a fight had his beard tugged, lost his footing, then got trampled half to death. Realizing this glaring weakness in the Klingon form, next time that same Klingon had to fight some other idiot begging for the old one two, which wasn’t that long at all, honour demands a punch up twice a week usually, he’d shaved his beard off to avoid being kicked till he peed his battle armour rusty. VERY SENSIBLE! Almost genius really… Unless you’re a Klingon.

So this Klingon dude I’m talking about, spoiling to slap the ridges off a dumb mook shows up to a matter of honour, a duel to the death, well, they were civilized enough usually to break an arm and call it quits, but he’s supposed to be a fully grown warrior ready to fight for the honour of family and empire but bare chinned with stubblerash, he did not look exactly the part, and even the thickest gent in the death octagon could see why he’d hacked off three pounds of gristle.

The cheap seats cooed “Oooo no! Is some little runt baby afraid of their beard being pulled? Are you so feckless and incompetent that you can’t guard your throat and your van dyke at the same time you dainty targ breathed Hur’q loser!?”

The hero of this story was laughed out of the city for being a puny hairless wussy.

Thereafter every (male) Klingon warrior proved his worth and bravery by growing a big ass ranging mangy beard, daring some jerk to jerk it, and the longer or more tuggable that beard was, the braver that Klingon was seen to be, even though it was a fricken liability, that got tugged, forced a stumble and then got that very very brave Klingon stabbed to death more often than not, if their beard outstripped their talent for a fight. Which it usually did. Their birth-rate is insane, if it wasn’t for constant hapless fatal sword related misadventures, like that, there would be a famine and everyone would die.

But back to the here and now, which isn’t exactly here and now for everyone, Tuvix grabbed the surgically altered Neelix, who was brain washed by the HIrogen occupation into believing that he was the greatest Klingon cage fighter in the history of smelly lice ridden blowhards, if you made love to this cleverly disguised Neelix, you would get fleas, by his beard, and kneed him in the face, cracking his jaw.

Obviously Klingon mating patterns held. Tuvix immediately acquired all of Klingon Neelix’s “women” but the fuzzy hybrid doesn’t think of Ensigns Wildman or Drapanas that way. Why couldn’t it be Kes? The technology is clearly here to program Kes to love him. Later. Neelix with a snaggle toothed Harem? It wasn’t so long ago that they had to abandon their homeworld because he couldn’t get laid. The future is a grand place!

This era was weird, but the fastest way for Tuvix to get the lay of the land is to meld with (Klingon) Neelix, even if it seems that his brain is a complete shuttle crash, since the chipper morale officer really really does believe that he is an alien thug from years gone by. Of course the youths of Vulcan were always told if they selfmelded, that they would go blind and their palms would sprout hair, which was just another lie parents told their children, so that they would concentrate on school work. Tuvix parsed his hairy fingers on Neelix’s face, and empathically felt the man’s broken jaw. Mistake! Ow!

“My Mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts… What the hell is going on?”
 
Part Two.

Sound and fury signifying exploding bulkheads.

Like something out of the Dark Phoenix Saga.

Our pretty little Ocampan is on a mission to kill everyone, for reasons that might subtly escape her right now, but she is sure that her purpose is true, so all these dirty damn pusswads are toast.

Janeway dies.

Harry Kim dies.

Ayala dies.

Oh….

Tuvix?

It’s Tuvix.

What?

That’s not right.

“You’re dead. You’ve been dead for almost a life time. I killed you.”

Besotted, the striped gerbil man exclaims “Kes, your face…”

“I’m old, a crone, a disgusting 8 year old biddy. Don’t judge me. I’m in no mood.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Am I?” Old as dust, still as thin as a rake, with a haircut that can stop a clock, Kes’ heart grows three sizes, and her psychokinetic powers stop spewing death in every direction, for a moment.

“I will always love you Kes.”

“And I will always hate you most of all.” Radioactive lightning blasts out of her eyes.

She wants to cut this rat##cker in half.

(Did you see what I just did there?)

“Computer! Emergency site to site transport! Tuvok-1-4-9-4-Lambda!”
 
Part 3.

“Please state the nature of the medical emergency.”

Tuvix was still on fire.

“I’m on fire!”

A force field envelopes Tuvix, starving the flames that were eating his stylish uniform.

“Anything else?”

“Information.” Tuvix had gotten an infodump from weird Klingon Neelix 2 years hence, which filled in a lot of gaps, but most of those experiences were meld vapour that did not make sense and were entirely unprocessable garbage … Kes dumped him… For being a drug dealer? What the living heck?

“Voyager is temporally fractured. Lieutenant Commander Chakotay from 6 years in my future, is on top of the situation.”

“What’s the stardate in this room?”

“49624.”

“Just a few months.” Tuvix murmurs under his breath.

“Your DNA is peculiar, some might think entirely impossible, you don’t even need my vaccine to pass through the membranes separation time frames… What the hell are you? ”

“120 years from now, I am the grandchild of Neelix and Tuvok.” Tuvix lies, worried about the Temporal prime directive.

“Is that a joke?”

“In my future, Captain Kim is on drugs, mad with power, he’s turned the crew on me, and I fear for my life if I return back to the future.”

“That is a fantastic story.” Fantastic has a double meaning, but you get that.

“Almost unbelievable.”

(Wink.)
 
Part Four.

“You can’t be here Tuvix. We’re already in a time Anomaly. I can’t even… ” The beautiful exasperated human woman in Science Blue checks the transporter hybrid who just “appeared” in stellar cartography, which is where all the real action happens on Voyager. Stellar Cartography, the beating heart of the soul of Voyager. Without Stellar Cartography, the ships just a piece of shit. Really? In what awful universe could there be a Voyager without Stellar Cartography, an elite team of science heroes mapping unknown space, adding to the collective betterment of the Federation at large? Nothing is cooler than Stellar Cartography, and damn any foolio to icy purgatory who would futilely say otherwise. “Just Kidding! Give us a hug you fuzzy little man.”

The three crew embrace. Platonically. Get your mind out of the gutters.

Jenny’s identical twin agrees with her stupidly smart sister “Tuvix, do you understand the nature of the temporal disaster threatening the ship, time and the universe?”

“The ship has been subdivided into 47 distinct temporal zones maintaining different regions of space time from Voyager’s history and future side by side and stacked on top of each other. It’s a damn mess.”

Megan DeLaney marks the Morale Officer with a “zero” for accuracy “Nope.”

“Tuvix, we are in high orbit above 20th century Earth.” Jenny carries on “The opportunity to contrast the differences in temporal ecology and the structure of space removed by 400 years. It’s fascinating… And Captain Janeway has also picked a fight with a billionaire.”

Despite holding on to the lives of two men, drawing on, almost 150 years of vital experience between them, Tuvix needs clarification “What is a billionaire?”

“Imagine there was one person who had unlimited resources, but everyone else on the same planet had next to nearly nothing.”

“Disgusting.” The Vulaxian agrees with a dour frown.

“Look, we’re really sorry you died.”

“Like, super dooper sorry.” They sound exactly the same. It’s hard to keep track of which Ensign is which. You’d think just to iron things out, that Janeway would have promoted one of them to Lieutenant Junior Grade, or moved a DeLaney to command red, but could you really trust them not to take turns playing with the other sister’s job and rank? Twin humour is a lowest form of wit. ”We should have spoken out when Captain Janeway murdered you…”

“Before.”

“O. Right Jenny, sure. We should have spoken out “before” Captain Janeway murdered you, but we couldn’t…”

“We aren’t twins.”

Tuvix’s eye brow arches.

“We’re, the two of us are a transporter accident too.”

“We used to be the same person.”

“A long time ago.”

“So long ago.”

“If Captain Janeway was so intent on ripping you in half, we don’t want to think about how it would feel to be glued back together again.”

“So, she’s really going to kill me?” Tuvix is reminded of his mortality once more.

“Almost a year ago.”

“You cried.” Jenny illustrates.

“Begged her to let you live.” Megan continues.

“It was just the saddest thing ever.”

“But you’re here now. Yay!”

“And that’s great, even though we just wiped our ass with the temporal prime directive since too much time travel is happening at the same time today to be healthy for anyone. We’ve been tracking Voyagers pastafication, and we think with your help we can save the day, if you can just answer one question Tuvix…Is this the end, is this when we get home after 3 years lost in the boonies of the milky way? Please tell me we just land the ship on Luna and go into hibernation for 300 years, or go to the Guardian of Forever or… This isn’t it, is it?”

“Captain Janeway made a bad call and she is going to keep making bad calls for the next 25 years.”

“Oh god.”

“25 years?”

“We’re not going to see our mom for another 25 years?”

“Actually, I’m fairly sure that you two don’t make it back to Earth.”

“We die?!”

“#### this!" Jenny rages. "Seska was right. Let’s kill Captain Janeway and go home.”
 
Part 5.

Our Chief Engineer Joe Carey, who had been working his way toward this point in his career for decades, felt the bridge of his nose explode, so he swung back at the impudent terrorist woman into a double reinforced Klingon heavyset ridge collection, which is when his knuckles exploded too. That pretty girl Seska picks him up like he was a 5 year old, Christ and a half she is strong, and half carries or drags him all the way to sick bay, even as he can hear that Torres woman crowing “Stick it to me! Stick it to ME! Dumb Human nerd belongs in a library not an engine room! Get out! Fragile pathetic loser! Grow a beard you weak chinned ass! This is Mine! Mine! I am the chief engineer now!” It’s lord of the flies in there, but that’s a tomorrow problem.

Helpful is helpful, and half the blood that is supposed to be inside his body was painting the deck behind him, but the perky little ensign girl with the funny adorable alien nose is hoisting Carey by his flabby 45 year old bum onto a BIO BED while the artificial man in medical blue plays out some drama with another patient, and she hasn’t let go of his underwear area… Which is thoroughly inappropriate since he is old enough to be her father, surely? Seska whispers in his ear “Later when you are feeling better, I am going to mount you like a riding hound.” The last thing he needed right now during this period of epic blood loss was to have what little fluids he retained to start rushing to unnecessary corners of his body, but… It’d be nice to have a plus one when he’s invited to the Captain’s mess for formal dinners, and/or sex once a month too, when able, when prevailing, if he can find the time, but they’re here, in a sickbay that would make Crusher blush with envy, in line for medical attention from a bloody light bulb, who seems to be extinguishing an enflamed crewman too charred to identify, but his uniform is not quite right. There are only 152 souls on board, he should know who that is…

“In my future, Captain Kim is on drugs, mad with power, he’s turned the crew on me, and if I fear for my life if I return back to the future.” The sooty smoking man, is he Vulcan, explains a tall story that does not make sense. Oh my giddy aunt! The Future? Run! Run! Some idiot is starting an adventure they’ll write a log about, that kids will have to study in school one day.

Which the Doctor collaborates as a tall story that should not be believed “That is a fantastic story.”

“Almost unbelievable.” The recently heavily singed Tuvix agrees confirming that he is a composite being made up of nearly almost complete bullshit, then his neck pivots on a joint developed from 5 million years of evolution staggered across two planets to greet... “Oh my! You’re still Bajoran! Oh, that is marvellous! I had forgotten how sneaky you were, and thin, in my minds eye, I always think of you as a pregnant person!”

“Shub UB! Mab bose! Dad klinonb ibiot broke my bose!” Jesus! Carrey did not realise that he sounds like a certified dullard, how the frick was he going to talk this young sexy Bajoran ensign out of her annoying uniform, if he sounded like the Rigellian flu had kicked him in the face? Ah crap, if he boffs her, does he have to be nice to all the other terrorist scum too? “Whab bo you meab she’s bill bajoran? And Pregbant? I bon’t follow a bamn thing bat is habbening!”

Devilishly cunning agent of the obsidian order Seska is dazed and confused by the strange man she is just meeting who might be more valuable to have in her back pocket than the ship’s chief engineer “You seem to have me at a disadvantage.”

Tuvix can see how the wheel turns, and it is so flipping disappointing. “Oh venomous lady, slithering snake in the garden, no one ever has you at a disadvantage so long as you can lie unrepentantly and murder indiscriminately, but honestly you never had to play it this way. The Federation and Cardassia were on good terms, we were sent to find you by the central command, not that they told us that you were what they were really after, but it’s obvious if you spend a few seconds thinking about everything that happened at the very beginning of this mess. You’re not the only Cardassian to have an adversarial relationship with the truth, my beautiful scheming friend.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” She shrugs, the arch traitor and assassin trying her best at seeming sweet and innocent.

But the Doctor gives her the sniff test. Literally he sniffs her with his big honker. “Oh, that is clever! How they… RED Alert! This woman is clearly a Cardassian Spy! Security! Security! Security!”

No one is coming, but Carey might be in love.
 
Part 6.

Neelix is drunk. Real drunk, not Synthehol drunk, but Seven of Nine lets him yell at her for saving his life, and she takes it, because she is one classy lady, and almost totally dead on the inside, who is probably going to end up in bed with dumb Tom Paris, like the rest of the women on this ship. Seriously? What make’s that guy so special? Does he have a penis made out of candy? Something is Wrong. Neelix took a wrong turn… In time?

“Hwy MwgN… Sowwy. Ensign Deee-lany, should I be seeing two of you? Ha! Sorry. Hullo Jenny. You’re the funny one. Has anyone ever told you that, that you’re the one with the spickling personality and… U’d treat you so good, you’d be my special princess, but... This is not Astrometrics? Where is Astrometrics, I have an appointment with that Borg who turned me into a zombie and she got thuh biggest, unavoidably biggest, um but you’re the sporty one Megan, have you played tennis against yourself? You’re a god dim demon at the net. Ha! Neither of you are you are supposed to be here, and here is not supposed to be here either. Dizzy. I’m having a bad day.”

Jenny flips out “He said Borg! He said Borg! ####! ###! ####!”

“You got fat Neelix.” Megan recognises that this cuddly tabby is from the future, because that gut is definitely new.

At the beginning of a panic attack Jenny found a phaser and she is spinning around and around looking for hiding Borg that might jump out of every shadow “Also… What the hell is “Astrometrics”?” But the twins, who are really a transporter accident, are still happy to be sandwiched inbetween a flotilla of shedding Neelixes. They’ll be choking on hairballs for a week, but he is still one of their most favourite persons.

Neelix gets his out of focus peepers locked onto the other man in the room’s ridiculously familiar paisley Starfleet Uniform, past the shade of 5 brandy alexanders “Arrrgh! Ghost! G-G-Ghost! Megan, are you seeing this! It’s me back when I was him. I fricking loathed being him. We can take him! He’s not so tough. That slouch got killed by a girl! I’m going to bust you up Two-Vics!”

“Hello Nelix.” Tuvix waves his paw at the sad existentially depressed drunk. “You’re in the past, right now the two of us are curled up with Kes, binging General Hospital and other 2d entertainment in her Quarters.”

“Best 4 days of my life. She smells so good, and then she combs my hair, and I mean everything, everywhere, all the way down to my toes, good gravy I miss that woman.” Neelix sits down without warning, and vomits less than a full mug of bile down the front of his suit, and checks out.

Megan crosses her arms and denounces “Well, that’s just awesome. How did he walk though the time orifice without being disintegrated?”

Jenny pokes drunky with a tricorder “It might have something to do with how he is riddled with Borg Nano probes? Seriously you two, I have a phobia about the Borg, I will blow up all 47 Voyagers, I don’t care who lives or dies or gets home, but the moment I see a drone, EVERYONE DIES because I am not being assimilated. Do we have an understanding?”
 
Part 7.

Running from a macro virus, Tuvix jumps into a crawl space face to face with a psycho path who screams “NO! YOU’RE NOT REAL!!!!” and punches him in the nose, but then Tuvix wakes up 4 decks down, in a small quarters for an infamous crewman hovering above a large beckoning bowl of Hemlock. “There’s something wrong with my eyes. I can’t see the other end of time. Can you see the other end… No, of course you can’t. Sorry. I was being… Something is wrong with the universe and something is wrong with me, and I do not like it, but for all things, I have a solution.”

“Q? Not Quinn? Q or Quinn?” Tuvix had either found a god with the powers to shake all of creation, or a suicidal old ginger mortal twit. “Can you turn this off, put everyone back where they seem to belong, except me. I think I want to go back to Tallax. What are you?”

“Oh no, that Sexy Captain of yours, god what I would do to her if I had a few centuries to spare in zero gravity, it’s the weirdest thing, ever since they cut my life expectancy down to literally almost nothing, all I want to do is bang my way through this crew, and then move on to the next ship, and start all over again, when I’m not thinking about killing myself of course. Death, sex, death, sex, death, sex… Is there a way I can have sex to death? Computer? Is there a way I can combine sex with suicide?”

The Ghost of Number One answers the question “There are 15 million 800 sexual events on record that can result in planned or accidental selftermination. Do you want the results of your search listed by certainty of death, certainty of orgasm or alphabetically?”

“So you’re just a regular person now?” Tuvix is disappointed.

“I’m just a regular person now.”

“And the Q have nothing to do with fracturing Voyager into dozens of Time Zones?”

“I literally have no damn clue what you are talking about.”

“Balls.”

“Although, when I was omniscient, not too long ago, I did take the time to write you a letter.” Mortal Crewman Quinn hands composite Morale and tactical officer Tuvix a folded-up scrap of paper, which he unfurls, and it says succinctly “Janeway is going to kill you.”

“What if I Iead you into a different timezone on the ship, time is all weird, and it’s months ago, instead of right now, would your powers come back?”

Quinn picks up the bowl of hemlock, something else he pre-prepared beforehand like a 1960s TV chef, then drinks all of it, making a slurpy noise, burps, and he’s done. “Yup, yup, that’s grand. I’m just going to sit here and listen to my body grind to a halt. It’s been nice talking to you Tom.”
 
Part 8.

The Doctor strings her up with photonic medical restraints.

“Oh yes, yes, tighter, tighten it damn it, thank you… Who told you that I w… I’ve been a bad little girl. PUNISH ME!”

The barely out of his box EMH looks moonstruck between the other two men in sickbay, having very little to no idea what it is that he is observing because his interpersonal and sexuality subroutines were written by an incel. “Is this sex?”

Tuvok tries to give his holographic executioner a middling seventh grade school yard education about kink “Some people like to be tied up and choked, other people like to read a book on floral arrangement before an early night. This is different. Seska, no one is buying your act. You’re a puppeteer, not a sexkitten, so no one is going to kill you or lock you up. Other than stealing a bowl a soup, you haven’t actually done anything wrong yet.”

Young Seska has no idea who it is that is talking to her, who somehow knows all her secrets. “Save me Joe! They are jealous of your dogged machismo! WooF! Meow!”

“Sit down Joe.” Tuvix almost strikes the Chief Engineer impotent with his absolute certainty.

“Whob the bell do you thinb that bou are talbbing bo!? I’m thirb obbicer and you’re whab, some sketchy alien interlober up to no bood?!”

The Doc takes a hypospray and puts Joe Carey and Seska to sleep for at least the next hour. “Temporal Prime Directive says that you’re in charge. What do we have to do to save the ship?”

“Don’t tell anyone you saw me, and Trust Chakotay with your life. He’s a good man. Good? Computer, site to site transport to Stellar Cartography.”
 
Part Nine.

Well, it is the thing from her childhood’s nightmares, so of course she starts screaming at the top of her lungs like a tarantula was wiping it’s feet up her nose “Arrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggggggggggggghhhh! Argggggggggggggggggggggggggghh! arrggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Om my goodness! YOU’RE REAL!”

“I’m a real person, with feelings Naomi.” This treatment is almost the worst this delineated pariah has ever felt. She’s his god damned god daughter for hecks sake! “I am your Godfather! I expect to be forwarded the appropriate level of respect young lady.”

“Sure dad, whatever.” The 20 something Ensign, mistress of Astrometrics, is composing herself but there’s no way she can look at this monster without getting the heeby jeebies. “How it was explained to me when I was very young, is that Uncle Tuvok got very very hungry and accidentally ate Neelix, but the meal did not sit well in his stomach, so Tuvok had an allergic reaction and puffed out, plastered with a very effective rash, and started calling himself Tuvix. Later, they told me that you would come and break my toys, if I did not eat all my leola root for dinner, but you are not a made up story book monster are you?”

Tuvix’s plucky companions, the DeLanney sisters are on the warpath. “Hey lady! This looks like Stellar cartography, but it is not stellar cartography! What the hell gives? If you put us out of a job, I’m going to pop you one in the nose, and steal your shoes.” Some people can’t face the future with any grace.

The all grown up child tries to calm down the twins when she herself is anything but calm “I don’t know why you think you have to be so extra with me, I’m totally innocent here, you two had a pregnancy scare with old man Harry Kim, and nothing was ever the same after that.”

Jenny feels violently ill “What together? We both had a… with… Oh that is distasteful. I know I can do better than that!”

“Hey!” Jenny’s sister defends her unrequited Valentine 2371 – 2373. “There’s nothing wrong with Harry, in fact some people think that there is an awful lot right about that dreamboat. He’s so keen.”

“He’s an under achieving manchild tied to his stringent mother’s apron strings. Sorry but I’m still repelled and horrified from possibly misunderstanding you Naomi, did you say that he puts a baby in each of us at almost the same time, or just Megan?”

Tuvix lays down the law “Hush! None of this twaddle matters! None of it is ever going to happen! Look, Naomi we saw you talking to old Chakotay and a deathly young Kathryn Janeway. You have a plan to restore time, but I want to bring time into temporal synch with their era (He points at the DeLanny sisters). All we need to do is take the ship to Vulcan and we might as well be home. 20th century Vulcan is indistinguishable from 24th century Earth. It’s good enough, and spending another 20 years in the Delta Quadrant fighting the Kazon to a stand still seems like a fate worse than death, no offense.”

Lieutenant Wildman pouts “You are erasing me from time, I take plenty of offense.”

“I am not your nightmares Naomi, I am not a monster, but you are barely real and your opinion is moot, since you already committed suicide when you decided to help Janeway and Chakotay unseat your personal history. If they win, you die, if I win you die, no matter who wins you die. You are dead.”

Naomi starts crying.

Megan gives her a cuddle. “He’s right though, if you’re not going to fight to save yourself, why should anyone care about you? But don’t. Seriously sit this out. We have plans, and you’ll love your new revised childhood on Earth… During the crushing reality of WWIII? Hey, guys, are we completely sold on pinning all our hopes on 1996?”

Naomi babbles “But I had, I had to save Captain Janeway. I couldn’t just let her die. We all talked about it. Saving the captain was a sacrifice we were all willing to make.” Blub blub, girly tears, whinge whinge, cry me a fricking river.

“The math here” Tuvix beings “is raising my damn hackles! You are willing to murder 140 able crewmen to save the one woman who decided that the sacrifice of merely two men, to keep my personhood afloat is unconscionable? OOOOO I am having some trouble here finding the charity not to sink this boat with all hands! What was done to me was not even close to being a fair deal. I was screwed by a hypocrite! OOOO! I need some chocolate.”

“Are you finished?”

“Sorry, I just had to vent. I’m good. But it’s a heist. We are going to steal Voyager!”
 
Part Ten.

“Who the hell are you?!”

“No! Who the hell are You!”

Tuvix had just walked through the shimmering time door face first into a warm phaser nozzle.

”You came out of an event horizon that disintegrates everything that touches it, which means that you know something important that I do not know, and that irks me. Irks me no end son.”

“Don’t call me “son” Human, I’m at least 200 years older than you are.” Tuvix snorts.

The square jawed zaddy, close to 50, controls the moment “Take your phaser off your belt using your pointer finger and ring finger on your left hand, and drop it to the ground.” But Megan and Jenny leap through checkpoint Chronos from behind Tuvix, and together, it’s a party trick, in unison, they punch Captain Ransom in his sexy stubble, who is threatening their peculiar ally, who is leading the two girls down a strange path to getting from here to there where the heart is. I mean it’s weird, how hard is it to trek from 20th century Earth to 24th century Earth, but no, from all the future history they are meeting in this overdrawn schism, it’s all about how everyone they know and love is either dead, or still trapped in the Delta Quadrant quarter of a century later… Maybe Captain Janeway is not a very good Captain?

On his ass, knocked clear, Rudy starts trying to explain his point of view before he has to be worried about being kicked into unconsciousness, or be dragged upstairs to face Star Fleet Justice at the hands of that temperamental shrew. “Sorry, sorry, I’m a desperate man! That god damned woman, Captain Janeway is out to get me but I’m innocent, I haven’t done anything! She just wants to steal my ship, and kill me because I did not kiss her power tripping ring. If this gate you’re walking through is to somewhere else that is safe, safe from her feral shoot from the hip frontier justice, you will be saving my life! Please, please save me from that despot, she is an insane murderer!”

Tuvix offers his hand to his brother in arms, helping Ransom up from the floor, explaining his sympatico viewpoint “Kathryn Janeway is a cow.”

“Exactly!” The USS Equinox’s Captain cheers “Let’s kill the b*tch!”

Jenny DeLanney stuns her superior officer, a star fleet Captain overwhelmed by misogyny and gynophobia, but she had considered disintegrating him, even if that might be taking things a little too far. “Anyone who doesn’t treat all women with absolute unconditional respect is going to be spaced. I’m looking at you Tuvix, you’re getting pretty close to crossing the line I might have to string you up with.”

Their alliance is fractured, but is it shattered?
 
Part Eleven.

This Was Endgame .

“Woah! Woah! 3 weeks after she kills me, Janeway is bitten by an insect and marooned off Voyager, possibly forever, and I would have been Captain? Of all the… Logic absolutely fails me. It’s enough to drive a man to drink. Right? Let’s go over the plan one more time… ”

Megan reexplains facts they all know, as if there was some secret audience watching them, who had just got back from making a tea service. “We are ready. We locked out Engineering and bridge command functions, and spoofed the final destination, so when Seska and Chakotay finish repeating history, fighting for control, to reset to the original accident in 2377, they won’t and we win.”

“Which is what that witch Seska is trying to do, but I saw her math, she’s way off... Y’know, I’m beginning to think that she’s not a real Engineer?”

Tuvix justifies the calibre of one of his arch nemeses’ “I always respected her despicable genius.”

Jenny’s only female friend is her sister “Oh god now. Let’s be honest. Seska is not brainy, she’s just easy.”

“I still think lobbing a few stun grenades in there before their plans crash into our plans is a good idea.” Megan doesn’t understand what gaining the high ground looks like. She’s never won a game of Risk against Harry.

Tuvix mansplains “Captain Janeway, and allies from 6 different time frames co-operate to bring Seska down. She is a non-issue, as long as we haven’t done anything extreme to knock history off course. We can do this, but then we have to outwit a 20th century billionaire and the 29th century time police, so that your homeworld doesn’t blow up, and no one drags us back to the Delta Quadrant against our will.”

“You know, that this is a little anticlimactic?”

“Sometimes you don’t have to blow up a star to win the day. We rewired a console, and reprioritized some code. Minimalism. Sheer elegance in its simplicity.”

Megan tries so hard to be brave that it looks like obnoxiousness “How long until we know if it works?”

“How about a kiss for good luck?”

“Sorry Tuvix we think of you more as a neutered teddy bear rather than anything alive with a sexual identity.”

“How about Jenny? Jenny? I mean, you want me, a little bit, right?”

“Sorry bro, not going to happen.”

Time and space fold in on themselves and everything dies painfully.

The End.
 
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