The Voyorgy Conspiracy

BY : Odon
Category: Star Trek > Voyager
Dragon prints: 13430
Disclaimer: See full disclaimer below.

Janeway and Tuvok were striding down a corridor as usual.

"To deny yourself the release of sexual pleasure is not logical," Tuvok was saying.  "If you wait until our return to the Alpha Quadrant, even with the 30,000 light years cut off our distance, even with the new-improved Viagra 5000, Commander Chakotay will be too old to…'get it up', I believe is the phrase."

Janeway looked sideways at her security officer.  "And what about you?  How many times will you go through the pon farr before we get home?"

Only his dark skin and over a hundred years of practising constant mind discipline prevented Tuvok from blushing at the most embarrassing words in the Vulcan vocabulary.  "I intend to cope with it the same way Ensign Vorik did, by 'beating the crap' out of someone.  Preferably Neelix."

"Chakotay to the Captain, please respond."

Janeway slapped her left breast, wincing in the process.  Years of answering hails had left her with a permanent combadge-shaped bruise on her tit.

"Janeway here."

"I wondered if I could have a word with you.  It's about the Doctor."

"I'm near your quarters now.  I'll stop by."

"That's not nec__"

"Janeway out."

The captain dismissed Tuvok and walked down the corridor to her first officer's quarters.  She activated the door chime, but there was no answer.

Janeway frowned.  The Commander had asked to see her.  It was rude of him to hold her up.  And Captain Janeway didn't let radioactive Mutara-class nebulas slow her, let alone doors.  "Computer, open the doors to Commander Chakotay's quarters.  Command override Janeway Zeta Four Seven."

The doors hissed open and she strode regally through them...just in time to catch her first officer applying the finishing touches to his tattoo with a magic marker pen.

The two officers gaped at each other, then Janeway pointed at Chakotay and yelled, "BUSTED!"

"It's the sonic showers," he explained, an apologetic look on his face.  "First they rinsed all the grey out of my hair, now my tattoo's started to fade."

"What did you want to discuss?"

"I went to Sickbay to talk to the Doctor," Chakotay said, replacing the cap on his pen.  "Even with the bio-neural gel packs we're running out of storage space on Voyager's main processor.  A lot of that space is taken up by the Doctor's ego.  I was hoping to convince him to reduce it by means of a modesty subroutine."

Janeway snorted.  "Fat chance.  What did he say?"

"I didn't have the opportunity to ask.  When I arrived, I found the EMH deactivated and B'Elanna trying to erase part of his program.  When I asked her what the hell she thought she was doing, she dumped half a ton of Klingon curses on me and stormed out."

"What was she doing?"

"I've no idea.  I couldn't get the Doctor back on line to ask him.  She's locked down his program."  He stroked his chin thoughtfully.  "You know, she was walking kind of funny.  Bow-legged almost.  Think the Doctor made a mess of a gynaecological examination or something?  You know what her temper's like."

Captain Janeway rubbed her head in exasperation.  It was days like these she felt as if aliens were drilling red-hot needles into her skull.  "Well, did you go after her and ask?"

"I thought it best to wait until she'd cooled down a little.  She's not in the best of moods at the moment."

The captain gave a mental groan.  She liked Chakotay.  Those puppy dog brown eyes gave her shivers all over.  But he could be a real wiener at times.  In fact there were moments when Janeway wished she'd made Seska her first officer instead.

"Fine, I'll talk to her.  We can't afford to have the Doctor off-line.  Anything else I should know about?"

"Yes.  It's Seven of Nine.  She's been acting rather strange lately.  She asked me for details on your sex life.  She wanted to know if we were 'copulating' and whether you could achieve 'perfection' with a man."

"Great," Janeway said, rolling her eyes.  "Now she's discovered boys.  I was hoping she'd be cured of that after the Lieutenant Chapman disaster."

"She's probably just 'observing human mating behaviour' again."

"I don't think so," Janeway muttered darkly, thinking of the turbolift incident.

"Her whole attitude has changed," Chakotay went on.  "She seemed restless.  It's as if she was in a constant state of excitement.  And for some reason she called me 'Chuckles'."

Janeway looked first bemused, then amused.  "Chuckles?  I like it, it sounds…cute."

Chakotay smiled, his brown eyes dancing.  Maybe Seven was right.  He should be more assertive regarding their relationship.  He stepped closer to her.  Janeway's eyes widened but she didn't back off.  Her blood-red mouth parted slightly and a pink tongue caressed her lower lip.  Auburn strands of hair stirred with repressed passion.  He didn't need a universal translator to read these signals!  The handsome first officer bent his head down for a passionate kiss.  Kathryn Janeway felt her heart thumping in her chest.  She'd been fantasizing about this for five years…

"Engineering to Captain Janeway."

"SHIT!" exclaimed the two Starfleet officers.

"Go ahead Lieutenant Carey," Janeway snapped.

"You'd better come down here.  Lieutenant Torres has gone berserk!"

* * * * * *

Captain Janeway strode into Engineering and stopped dead in her tracks.  Her first officer and Carey hadn't exaggerated B'Elanna's mood.  The Chief Engineer was gripping Neelix by the head and using his distinctive hairstyle as a scrubbing brush to clean out a plasma injector, yelling with each vicious stroke: "I-TOLD-YOU-NO-MORE-LEOLA-ROOT-STEW!"

"B'Elanna!"

She jumped, the Talaxian's head dropping out of her hands and bouncing on the hard deck.  The engineering crew winced and cowered further under their consoles.

Captain Janeway glared at her, hands on hips.  "Lieutenant Torres.  I realise that last time you assaulted a member of this crew I made you Chief Engineer, but don't think you're going to gain another promotion in that fashion!"

"Yes Captain," B'Elanna answered meekly, swinging a casual boot into Neelix's side.  There was a snap of a rib breaking and Neelix moaned.

"And KINDLY desist from killing him.  I realise the Doctor is better at comic relief, but Neelix is the only adult member of the crew shorter than me.  I need someone to look down on."

"The Doctor!" B'Elanna fumed.  "I don't find him funny at all!  Do you know what he did?  He strapped me to the biobed and shoved his additional subroutine right up my__"

B'Elanna fell silent when she realised the entire engineering staff was listening in sudden interest.

"In here."

She ushered Janeway into a nearby alcove and in a whispered voice gave the captain a highly edited version of what had happened in Sickbay.  "Once it was all over I was able to run a diagnostic on his program.  Apparently he was running an analysis on some data he'd downloaded from Seven of Nine's cortical implant."

Janeway unwittingly created a gay subtext moment as she stared into the attractive engineer's eyes.  "What kind of data?"

"It's a kind of fiction writing known as 'slash'.  A lot of it's pretty pornographic, which explains how the Doctor was behaving.  There's also angst, comedy, romance, unrequited love, some early twenty-first century homosexual activist doctrine - some of it written rather badly with numerous grammatical errors.  But Captain, this is the weird part.  It's all about us."

Janeway did a double take.  "Us?"

"These stories, they're all about the crew of Voyager in various sexual relationships.  Here you'd…better read some for yourself." She held out a PADD.  Janeway frowned and took it.  It was a story entitled, "Captain's Haven".

"Captain's personal log, supplementary.  After six years marooned in the Delta Quadrant I've finally come to the realisation that I can no longer ignore my physical and emotional needs.  The long nights alone without the comfort of a warm body next to mine.  The lack of an intimate friend with whom I can share my soul - it's all too much.  I have therefore decided to resort to a course of action that I would previously have regarded as inconceivable."

Captain Kathryn Janeway paced the holodeck, her auburn hair tossing lightly around her neck.  There was no reason to be nervous about this.  She was a scientist.  Sex was a simple matter of biological processes, the body's natural urge to reproduce in order to perpetuate the species.  Once you understood that, it lost its control over you.  As Tuvok had taught her, the key to controlling an emotion was to break it down, understand how it worked, deconstruct its power.

'Like fuck!'

She sighed.  There was no point in putting this off.  "Computer, activate Emergency Sexual Relief Hologram."

The walls shimmered and the holodeck was transformed into an inn in the quiet country village of Fair Haven.  A handsome man whose looks couldn't help catching her interest tended the bar.  Janeway's heart leapt at the sheer sight of him.  "Welcome weary traveller," he said.  He had warm brown eyes that promised to sweep away all her cares.  "I'm Michael Sullivan."

"K-Katie O'Clare," Janeway stammered. 

'Why am I doing this?  God, the depths to which I've sunk.'

The handsome hologram moved out from behind the bar.  His face was that of a man you could trust your life secrets to.  The movement of his body spoke of hidden animal passions.  His sleeves were rolled up to show his muscular arms.  All he needed was a tattoo.  A quick command to his facial algorithms fixed that.

"Well Katie," Sullivan said, his newly created tattoo wriggling mischievously.  "You have the look of someone who has travelled a long and weary road without any company worth speaking of.  Take the weight off yer feet and the world off yer shoulders."  He pulled out a chair for her to sit down on.  "A beautiful lass such as yerself should not have to care about life's great hardships."

Captain Janeway grabbed the smug Irish git by the lapels and threw him boldly onto the nearest table.  "Listen to me you talking dildo!  I'm the captain of this ship and don't you forget that, ever!  In my century men do what women want and like it!"  With a decisive movement she ripped his shirt down the front, exposing his broad manly chest.  "I haven't had a fuck in SIX YEARS!  It's your lucky day Michael!"  Janeway eagerly tore open the hologram's fly as the other patrons gaped in astonishment.  Trouser buttons zipped through the air and landed in their drinks.  A flying belt buckle hit the waitress in the forehead and knocked her unconscious.  Janeway reached into the protesting bartender's pants and yanked out his holo-penis. 

"I don't have time for foreplay.  Computer, make Michael Sullivan's penile subroutine fully erect.  TWELVE AND A HALF INCHES!"

Instantly twelve and a half inches of hot throbbing manhood burst into Janeway's hands, making her swoon with pleasure.  She lovingly caressed the pulsating member.  This was going to be so good!  The lustful captain released the object of her desires and in zero point four seven seconds had torn off every stitch of her clothing.  Seizing Michael's cock by the base, she began to mount him.

"That's a hell of a grip you've got there Katie!" Michael gasped, desperately wondering how he could escape this fearsome sex fiend.

"YOU can call me 'Captain', 'ma'am' in an extreme emergency or if you've got Tom Paris' eyes, 'Queen Arachnia', or preferably..."  She lowered her long-deprived cunt onto his organ, screaming in sheer ecstasy.  "Supreme OH GODDESS of the Delta Quadrant!"

Captain Janeway's face turned as red as her hair.  "Who's writing this stuff?  I'll throw them out an airlock!  I'll make them eat Neelix's cooking!  I'll have them cleaning Malon freighters until their lower regions are glowing in the dark!"

"Captain, it's not a crewmember!  This stuff came from a Borg temporal transmission from the early twenty-first century.  There's gigaquads of this stuff in there!  Stories about me and Tom having sex, you and Chakotay, Tom and Harry, Seven and the Doctor, you and Seven.  I mean, talk about Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations!  There's stories about you banging someone called 'Xena - Warrior Princess', whoever that is.  Even ones about you fucking…well…me."

Janeway suddenly realised she was in an enclosed space with a sexually aggressive half-Klingon who in her agitation was breathing rather heavily.  She hastened to change the subject.

"Why would a bunch of people living over three hundred years ago care about whether people on a starship in the future are having sex?"

"Apparently it had something to do with an organisation called Paramount, and their failure to live up to 'Roddenbery's vision of the future, by showing a sensitive portrayal of hetrosexual or homosexual relationships'…I can't quite understand it myself."

"And where would these 'slash fiction' writers get Borg temporal technology?"

B'Elanna thought so hard that bold ridges stood out on her forehead.

"Seven once told me that a Borg ship was destroyed during First Contact with the Vulcans.  That was in the twenty-first century wasn't it?"

"Never mind that," Janeway muttered.  "I try to avoid temporal paradoxes, they make my head spin."  That was what she told everyone, but the real reason was a lot more unusual.  Whenever the captain worked too hard and drank too much coffee she had this weird dream in which Voyager was being chased by a Kremin time ship and getting the living shit kicked out of it in the process.  Good thing that had never happened for real.  It'd be enough to make her want to fly Voyager into something big just to end it all.

"Bridge to Captain Janeway."

"Go ahead Chakotay."

"Seven of Nine just took off in the new self-replicating shuttle.  She won't respond to hails.  Did you authorise her to leave the ship?"

"No I didn't.  Lieutenant Torres informs me that Seven could be behaving erratically due to some extraneous data she downloaded.  Lock on a tractor beam."

"We've already done that, but we can't transport her out of there.  She's managed to alter her bio-signature.  Something to do with increased hormonal levels.  I'll beam over and convince her to return."

"No!" Janeway said, a bit too quickly.  She didn't trust her first officer in close contact with a hormonally-charged Seven.  She'd heard rumours about the beautiful Borg kissing Chakotay on the holodeck.  Not that she was jealous or anything, but...  "I'll handle this one myself."

* * * * * *

The instant the captain beamed on board, Seven activated a forcefield around the shuttle to prevent either of them from being transported off.

Captain Janeway realised what Seven had done but it didn't shake her confidence.  She never felt better than she did at these moments, when only her skills and ability could defuse some crisis.  It was what Janeway had joined Starfleet for.  Since arriving in the Delta Quadrant the coffee-powered captain had outwitted the Borg and the Hirogen, tamed the reluctant Seven into her crew, and brought Voyager 30,000 light years closer to the Alpha Quadrant against all odds.  There was nothing she couldn't achieve.

Seven of Nine had moved to the shuttle's replicator and was punching in commands.  To Janeway her beloved protege looked awful.  Hot, sweaty and ruffled like she'd just lost a game of Velocity, the Borg's eyes were wide and her nipples strained against the tight covering of her biosuit.  Stray hairs framed her face from her usually immaculate pleat.

'All right, I'm a trained diplomat, an experienced commanding officer, her friend - I can handle this.'

"Seven," she began gently.  "We've discovered that someone has downloaded a package of extraneous data into your cortical implant.  It's making you act irrationally."

"You are in error," replied the former drone.  She was breathing heavily.  Janeway felt her heart pang at the young woman's obvious distress.

"No Seven, I'm not.  Let's return to Voyager.  B'Elanna can purge your systems of this data, we can exchange some home truths on the nature of humanity, and everything will return to normal the way it does every week."

An object materialised in the replicator.  Janeway couldn't make out what it was.  Some kind of weapon?  Seven turned her head and looked directly at the captain.  The Borg's pupils dilated as her eyes swept up and down Janeway's body.

"I am functioning perfectly Captain.  It is you who is acting in an irrational manner."

Janeway was startled.  "Me?  How?"

"On numerous occasions I have seen you work late, avoid routine medical attention and consume excessive amounts of caffeine stimulants.  You avoid the physical and psychological relief that comes from an intimate relationship.  This results in erratic, compulsive behaviour.  You denounced Captain Ransom for his breaches of the Prime Directive, yet you yourself have violated it on several occasions.  Lieutenant Paris was demoted for stealing a shuttle and disobeying your orders, yet Commander Chakotay was not.  You were willing to destroy Voyager rather than let her technology fall into the hands of the Kazon, but in recent years you have shared our technology with the Hirogen, the Moneans and several other species.  And you have failed to maintain a consistent hairstyle in the past five years."

In just 0.47 seconds Janeway's personality switched from Mama Kathryn to Pissed-Off Factor Ten.  "I'm the Captain!  I don't have to justify my actions to anyone!  And I can wear whatever hairstyle I want!  Now turn this shuttle around - that's an order!"

"Orders are irrelevant.  I have lured you on board this shuttle for my own purposes."

Seven reached into the replicator and took out what she had created - a black, shiny, sausage-shaped device.  Janeway stared at it in horror.  It was a 15-inch, Borg-technology enhanced, self-lubricating, double-ended dildo with multi-spatial vibration capacity.  She backed off terrified as Seven advanced toward her with the menacing sex object.

"It's that Borg multiple personality thing isn't it?  You think you're the son of K'vok or something!"  Janeway's back hit the exit hatch of the shuttle.  There was nowhere left to retreat.

"I intend to free you from yourself," Seven of Nine purred, her eyes gleaming with sexual hunger.  "The new data I have downloaded informs me that you suffer from a deep unrequited lust for my body, but are restrained from acting on it by your duty to Voyager.  By luring you away from your ship and the gaze of your crew we can explore the deep intimacy and loving relationship that only two women can feel for each other."

For the first time in her entire life Kathryn Janeway began to panic.  Throughout her Starfleet history she'd believed she could deal with any situation: Cardassian torture, Borg cubes, running out of coffee.  But Janeway had never been confronted by a horny female crewmember intent on ravishing her with a multi-spatial dildo before.

"You've got the wrong idea about us Seven," Janeway said desperately.  "You've been reading a gay subtext into my attentions which have always been purely maternal.  I prefer guys, really I do, it's just that whenever I try to have sex with one I get thrown 70,000 light years into the Delta Quadrant or the combadge beeps or Tuvok gets a cure or we're turned into salamanders and that Kashyk was just a double-crossing bastard..."  She tried dodging past Seven to get to the controls but the Borg seized her eagerly.  Her cybernetic body easily restrained the struggling captain.  One of Janeway's pips broke off and rolled along the floor.  "I'll help you put that on later," Seven cooed.

"Seven, listen to me!  This is all a conspiracy by a group of twenty-first century lesbians who want to witness some lurid gay sex between us.  Not to mention millions of drooling men who have the same low hopes.  You wouldn't want to pander to the puerile fantasies of the 16-35 male demographic would you?"

"According to the data I have received I was put on Voyager for exactly that purpose."

"That's not true.  We abducted…I mean rescued you from the Borg!"

"Stardate 51030.  Kes, a far less voluptuous crewmember whose only sexual relationship is an inexplicable attraction to a talking warthog, leaves the ship at the same time as I, a large breasted blonde, come aboard.  The Doctor removes several highly efficient Borg implants and replaces them with a completely impractical skintight catsuit and boots with four-inch heels."

"Look, what these slash writers believe is wrong!  We're in the twenty-fourth century, where our relationships are those of mutual respect and understanding for the mind and soul of our partner, not lustful exchanges in which we rip off each other's clothes in turbolifts!"

Seven of Nine arched her back and took a very deep breath.  There was a tearing sound and her skintight uniform split from neck to crotch.  A pair of enormous breasts popped out of the tear and bounced in front of Janeway's astonished eyes.  Seven shrugged her shoulders, letting the damaged biosuit slide to the floor.

"I am Luscious of Borg," she said huskily.  "Your vagina will be double-adapted to service my own.  Resistance is exciting."

'I always wondered how you got out of that thing,' was all Janeway could think.

The captain's back was literally to the wall.  There was only one weapon left in her arsenal now - her trump card. 

The Big Gooey Look.

She'd spent hours practising The Look in the mirror at Starfleet Academy.  It had melted hearts across the Alpha and Delta Quadrants.  It had turned Chakotay from a rebellious Maquis traitor into an obedient lapdog.  It had stopped Inspector Kashyk from shooting his photon torpedoes into her wormhole.  It had changed Q from an omnipotent all-powerful pain in the ass into a love-stricken omnipotent all-powerful pain in the ass.

Janeway's face did its best to imitate a wounded puppy.  Her eyes radiated warmth and affection.  Her lips formed into an appealing smile.

And it worked!  She could see the blue eyes of her Astrometrics Officer shine with love for her captain.  The grip on her arm was relaxed, and the hand holding the threatening vibrator lowered to the floor.

Captain Janeway sighed with relief.  She'd done it again.

Until she realised that the dildo in Seven's hand was now level with her groin.

With an exultant cry Seven lunged forward, the multi-spatial probe dephasing from normal space in order to pass through Janeway's trousers and deep into her vagina.  The captain's eyes shot wide open as fifteen inches of throbbing Borg technology boldly thrust where no man had gone before in the past five years.  Borg nanoprobes detached from the invader and began to seek out and stimulate the countless nerve endings that clustered inside her cunt.  Subspace vibrations worked their way up Janeway's long-neglected body, making her nipples instantly erect.  Her vagina soaked helplessly, drenching her thighs with her love juices.

'No, this won't do!'  She began reciting a constant mantra.  "I prefer guys.  I prefer guys.  Big, handsome tattooed guys.  With puppy dog eyes."

Her resistance was futile.  Flushed with success and lust, Seven worked the probe inside her captain with gentle loving strokes, seeking out her centres of pleasure with all her usual efficiency.  Her newly assimilated knowledge had contained explicit instructions in the use of such devices.

Janeway's legs gave out and she slid helplessly down the shuttle's rear hatch.  Seven followed her down, her hand never ceasing its movements.  Janeway had the strangest feeling that she shouldn't be allowing this, that in a previous life or a parallel dimension she was a starship captain or something.  It seemed rather unimportant now.  She moaned and pushed her pelvis up toward Seven's thrusting hand, which was beginning to slip with the juices covering it.  The former drone slid her body on top of her, willingly impaling her virgin cunt on the part of the dildo that jutted from between Janeway's legs.  Seven moaned helplessly as First Contact was initiated.  Throughout her entire adult life the Borg had engaged in the relentless search for perfection.  She had helped assimilate countless worlds, observed the formation of the Omega molecule, allowed the Doctor to dress her in a skintight catsuit according to his sexist fantasy of the ideal woman, but for the first time ever Seven of Nine, tertiary adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One, achieved Perfection for herself.  The two passionate, headstrong women locked their legs around each other and proceeded to answer the dreams of J/7 writers from a time long ago.

However, confused as she was by the overload of data in her cortical implant mixed with the incredible new sensations she was experiencing, Seven was ignorant of a potential danger.  Captain Janeway was a woman who never did anything by halves, and the thunderous release of energy created by five years of pent-up sexual frustration was destabilising the shuttle at the submolecular level.

Fortunately, Ensign Kim was on his toes.  The illuminated panels of his console flashed and beeped incomprehensible signals at him, but for someone who could decipher Borg algorithms, understanding technobabble was easy.  He recognised the signs at once.  The exact same thing had happened when Kes left Voyager.  "The internal structure of the shuttle is breaking down!" yelled Kim, his hands flying over his console. 

"B'ELANNA GET A LOCK ON THEM NOW!" Chakotay shouted, his features wooden with worry.

Lieutenant Torres wasn't moving in her usual efficient manner, due to a numb throbbing in her pelvic region, but she was still the best damn engineer in the Delta Quadrant.  As the forcefield shorted out mere seconds before the shuttle disintegrated, she was able to get a transporter lock on the captain and Seven and beam them directly to the bridge.

Inside Voyager's landing bay, a new shuttle began to self-replicate.

Chakotay's exultation as Janeway and Seven materialised turned to shock as he (and the entire bridge crew) realised that his beloved Kathryn was enthusiastically screwing a stark-naked Seven of Nine, their cries of unrestrained pleasure resonating throughout the bridge.  Chakotay's jaw dropped so low it hit the communications panel, inadvertently relaying the sounds of his captain's wild passion throughout the entire ship as well.

For Tuvok, over a hundred years of Vulcan stability was instantly swept away at the sight of his long-time human friend engaged in this lewd and completely illogical behaviour in public.  His head began to boil like a cup of coffee in one of Kes' training sessions.

Harry Kim was so traumatised by the sight of the Lust of His Life engaged in hot passionate sex with his Mother Figure it took the Doctor months of therapy to sort him out.

Tom Paris, sitting at the conn station just inches away from the sweating pair, gaped in amazement.  Then slowly, a lewd grin began to form on his face.  Sighing with pleasure, he leaned back, folded his arms, and enjoyed the view.

* * * * * *

The Doctor fiddled with his already perfect tuxedo as the crew filed into the holodeck.  In an effort to get everybody's mind off the…unusual events of the past few days, he'd offered to give an opera recital.  A much more dignified event than one of Neelix's parties, in his opinion.  Still, he'd noticed that everyone seemed to be coping quite well anyway (except Mr Kim of course, but his therapy was proceeding nicely).  In fact, Voyager's crew had a remarkable ability to not let their weekly crises affect them in the long term.  Captain Janeway hadn't even let that rather embarrassing bridge incident change her relationship with Seven of Nine.  They were spending much more time together.  In fact the captain seemed a good deal less stressed out than before, though for some reason she still complained of lack of sleep.

The Doctor of course had made his sincerest apologies to Lieutenant Torres for his unforgivable behaviour in Sickbay.  To his surprise the short-tempered Klingon had dismissed it as 'one of those things'.  Perhaps, he thought smugly, she'd rather enjoyed the experience.  He couldn't help notice that Torres had seated herself in the front row, watching him with an expectant smile on her face.  Helm Boy might find himself being dumped pretty soon.

Mr Paris rapped a glass and spoon together, and the crew fell silent.

Making an unnecessary adjustment to his bow tie the Doctor announced, "Computer, play the music for 'Quando la Donna e Mobile'."

As the background music swelled out a feeling of immense pride filled the Doctor.  His opera represented the zenith of his development as a sentient program.  At moments like this the entire crew was in awe of his musical brilliance.  He was the helmsman of their souls.  As the crescendo built to a peak the Doctor thrust out a hand to his audience...and bellowed the obscene lyrics of the bawdy Klingon drinking song 'My Bat'leth is Bigger Than Yours'.

From Janeway on down, everyone's jaws dropped.

The one exception was the smirking lieutenant in the front row.  As the Doctor slowly turned his horrified gaze upon her, B'Elanna Torres gave a smile of sheer malicious pleasure that even Seska would have envied.

"Who's the Chief Engineer now, Big Boy?"

 

THE END

 

 

 

 

 



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