DISCLAIMER: I am not now, nor have I ever been, a member of
the Republican Party. (Although I hear they throw some great
wife-swapping parties)

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Babysitter's Blues Part 3
(Section 1 of the Project: Voyager Trilogy)
by Jack Staik

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"Captain's Log, Stardate 54321.0 -"

Janeway stopped for a second, looked at the chronometer
quizzically, then chalked it up to coincidence.

"Our repairs aren't going as smoothly as I would have liked,
mainly due to a junior member of the Q Continuum who has
been visiting us. During the six hours he has been on board,
he has almost killed myself and Naomi Wildman, made a huge
mess in the Mess Hall, harassed Seven of Nine, and
indirectly has been responsible for a large number of minor
injuries in Engineering.

"The only part of this situation in our favor is that he is
apparently stuck in human form - a punishment his father,
the first Q contacted by the Federation, has imposed on him
for undisclosed reasons. He has human vulnerabilities, which
means that we might be able to subdue him if necessary."

"I wouldn't bet on it, Auntie Kathy."

Janeway flinched at the voice coming from behind her. "Q!
Don't you know that it's rude to sneak up on people?!"

"No," he answered. "I'm almost omnipotent. Why shouldn't I
be rude?"

"Because if you don't behave your Auntie Kathy may just
THROW YOU OUT AN AIRLOCK!!"

Q stepped back, naked fear on his face. "Uh - uh - uh -" he
stammered.

Now Kathryn felt guilty. She had just threatened a small
child with summary execution. He may be a cosmic-level
super-being, but he was still a small child. "I'm sorry; I
didn't mean it." She reached over and put a comforting arm
around the boy. She hugged him close until his tremors of
fear subsided. Kathryn felt very maternal.

"Your breasts aren't nearly as big as Seven's."

Maternal feelings gone - The Bitch is back.

Her arm retracting, she asked, "What are you doing here, Q?"

"I wanted some advice. About Seven."

Janeway allowed herself a small smirk. "Continue."

"I gave her the traditional human courtship gifts - jewelry,
chocolate, flowers - and she doesn't seem to be interested
in me. What can I do to get her interested.?"

Oh my merciful heavens, she thought, this is too damn silly.

"Well, why don't you try taking her and her friends
someplace nice, like, say - Earth?"

Q shook his head. "Dad put up a multispatial barrier. I
can't leave the ship or move it."

Damn, she thought. Oh well, it was worth a shot.

"Say, Q," she asked "why exactly did your father leave you
here? It wasn't just to punish you."

Q pouted. "He and Mom wanted to 'go on a honeymoon"," he
whined sarcastically. "So I'm stuck here with you."

"And Seven," she commented.

"Yeah," he sighed, his face getting the traditional look of
an adolescent with a crush.

"You know, Seven was raised a Borg." the Captain commented.
"She appreciates efficiency. Why don't you help out with the
repairs?"

"Yeah!" he said enthusiastically. "I'll help fix the ship!
She'll like me then!" And he vanished in the traditional Q
flash.

"Well, maybe I'll get something out of this after all."
Janeway said to herself.


"But I'm here to help," Q whined.

"Please leave, kid." Acting Chief Engineer Carey repeated.
"We're trying to get these repairs done, and we don't need
you getting in our - CROAK!!"

Leaving the eight-legged Krellian tree-frog (formerly
Lieutenant Carey) clinging to the ceiling, Q went up to
where Seven of Nine was working.

"Hiya, toots," he said (having learned this introduction
from human classical entertainment, notably Bugs Bunny).

Seven looked at him briefly. She emembered how he had
disrupted Engineering with his ... gift ... to her.
Operational efficiency briefly dropped 98 percent. She hated
anything that interfered with efficiency. "Greetings, Q.
Please leave me alone."

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I am trying to repair the power distribution system." she
said.

"Why?" he asked.

"To speed up repairs." she said.

"Why?" he asked.

"To restore this ship to it's original condition - or as
closely as possible. Now please go away."

"But I want to help." Q whined (he did that a lot; it made
Seven want to recycle his components). A light bulb appeared
briefly over his head, causing Seven to glance at the sudden
flash. A huge grin appeared on his face. "Why don't I fix
the ship for you? That way you won't have to soil your
lovely hands with menial labor."

"Q - this is not advisable." she commented. "I don't believe
that the Captain would approve of you -"

"You'll see - I'll make the ship just like she used to be!"
And he waved his arms in an expansive gesture. A wave of
energy surged out -


Captain Janeway was on her way to Deck Six when the flash of
light enveloped her.

When the light faded, she noticed that the corridor had
changed. It had become a dull gray, and blockier. And
somehow familiar...

Janeway tapped her commbadge. "Janeway to Engineering -
report!"

But she didn't have a commbadge.

She looked down at her uniform - a gold mini-dress that
barely came down to her thighs, with dark hose and black
boots. She recognized it as an old Starfleet uniform from
the mid-to-late twenty-third century.

A loud whistle sounded <WHEEE_oooo>. "Tuvok to Janeway,"
came a voice from a panel on the wall. "If you can hear me,
go to a intercom panel and depress the button underneath it
to establish contact."

She found the button. "Janeway here. What's happened,
Tuvok."

"Unknown. A wave of energy swept over the ship, healing
everyone in the Triage center and apparently transforming
the ship and the crew's uniforms. Since there is a Q on
board, I'll assume he is responsible."

"That's right, blame everything on me," Q's voice came from
the speaker. "You couldn't entertain the thought that it
might be a coincidence?"

"Not for an instant," Janeway said. "What did you do?"

"Well," he said nervously, "I told Seven I'd try to fix the
ship -"

"Seven here, Captain." she interrupted. "His exact words
were 'I'll make the ship just like she used to be.' We now
appear to be on a ship of the Constitution class."

"Well, this *is* how the ships used to be!" Q said
defensively.

"We wanted the ship as she was a week ago, not a century
ago." Seven commented coldly.

"Week - century - what's the difference?"


The senior staff met on the Bridge (after some confusion
about operating the old-style turbolifts). While everyone
was perfectly healthy, with no more radiation sickness, they
couldn't locate their quarters or their duty stations. Tuvok
(who had some familiarity with this equipment) aided the
crew to orient themselves (with the assistance of the
computer).

Janeway sat in the Big Chair in the center of the Bridge.
She loved this huge, blocky chair, so unlike the smaller,
immobile model on her regular Voyager. Perhaps she could
have one installed...

Chakotay's voice, addressing young Q, "I thought you tried
to put this ship the way it was."

"I did." the boy - still in 24th century garb - replied. "I
just ... overshot, that's all."

"I don't recall a Constitution-class ship named Voyager."
Chakotay said.

"In fact, there was one, Commander." Tuvok commented. "The
USS Voyager, NCC-1799, was a special training vessel used to
familiarize third and fourth-year Starfleet Academy cadets
with the operations of a Constitution-class vessel. I did a
tour of duty on her just before she was decommissioned
ninety years ago."

Janeway noticed the way he said those words. "A 'special'
training vessel, Tuvok?"

"Yes. The Voyager lacked operational weapons systems and
warp drive . Otherwise she was identical to other ships of
the type."

Lieutenant Torres (in red minidress) went over to the
Engineering panel. "All systems appear to be normal." she
said.

"Computer simulations." Tuvok commented. "This is a training
vessel, after all."

Janeway sighed. "Any more good news, Tuvok?"

Tuvok looked at his Captain (and her legs). "Ships of this
era lacked replicators, instead using supplies of processed
proteins to simulate foodstuffs. A Constitution-class vessel
carried enough proteins to supply a crew of four hundred
thirty persons for five years. We have perhaps one-third
that number, giving us fifteen years of food. But the
nearest M-class planet is twenty-seven years away on impulse
power. And travel time to the Alpha Quadrant is now in
excess of one hundred thousand years."

B'Ellana stepped forward. "Permission to kill our guest,
Captain."

The Captain looked thoughtful. She glanced at young Q, then
at B'Ellana.

"I'll let you know."

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To be continued.

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