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Five-Minute "Survival Instinct"

by Andy Taylor

Past Two, Three and Four of Nine: Input failure. You have caused an illegal operation.
Past Seven: Wow! Something less revealing than a catsuit. Must be a flashback.

Captain's Log: We have no friends, and, to be frank, hanging round on a space station and taking gifts from people is not quite the way to do it.

Chakotay: Everyone on this station's stupid -- look at their version of a tennis racquet.
Janeway: Okay, fine, you can have it.
Chakotay: Score!

Tuvok: Everyone's a criminal.
Janeway: Here's my commbadge -- call someone who cares.
Tuvok: But read how serious it....
Janeway: Don't make me shout, momma's boy! Drat, this plant's eating me.

Naomi: Eat with me!
Seven: Bite me instead.
Naomi: You promised.
Seven: I lied. Okay, you twisted my arm....

Naomi: Move, please!
Seven: Move over, you worthless extras! See, Naomi? You just need to shout a little to get attention.
Naomi: Er, Seven, I think it's more than that -- look at the costume you bought from "T&A 'R' Us" the other week.

Neelix: Geesh, my appearances in fivers are going downhill...what's my line again?
Naomi: That's Species 512.
Seven: Shhh! What will your mom think?
Naomi: I have a mother?
Seven: Shhh! I'm trying to listen to the voices that are annoying me!
Two of Nine: Here's some Borg junk.
Seven: Argh! Flashback! I want my catsuit back!

Two: Let's get Seven.
Three and Four Of Nine: No. Which means yes, obviously.

Past Two, Three and Four: Let's engage in irrelevant conversation. Have you read the latest TV Guide?
Past Seven: Don't!
Past Two, Three and Four: Okay, little miss stroppy. It's not like you're missing much anyw--
Past Seven: Don't make me inject you with scary Borg probes!

B'Elanna: You miss the Borg.
Seven: Bite me!
B'Elanna: Bite ME!
Seven: BI...sorry.
B'Elanna: Ha! I win.
Seven: And I was told it was character development.

Four: We might hurt Seven.
Two: She has a contract, we don't -- work it out.
Four: This is getting absurd -- a bunch of numbers talking to each other.
Two: Stay with it....
Three: But I failed math!
Four: Well, four and seven makes 47!
Seven: Hey, get off me!
Four: I failed social studies, obviously.

Past Drones: Let's sit around the campfire, eat toasted Borg and tell stories.
Past Three: I have a name.
Past Two: Hi, number three. Let's have a look at who you turned down -- come in, number one....
Past Seven: I'm a big scaredy-cat. Just had to get that one in before I say "Shut the hell up!"

Seven: I recognise them.
Doctor: Duh. They were just in the last scene.
Seven: I know, and they pissed me off then, too.
Two, Three and Four: We hear each other's voices.
Doctor: The technobabble generator tells me that you're a trio.
All except Doctor: Duh.
Doctor: You know, I do some singing.
Seven: Oh, someone shut him up.
Doctor: You obviously haven't seen the script submission of "Virtuoso" yet.

Seven: Well, I sure don't remember doing anything to you.
Two, Three and Four: Huh?
Seven: Important plot point -- trust me.

Two, Three and Four: We don't know nothing.
Seven: And to further the plot, me neither.
Two: And to slow down the plot, why is your name a number?
Seven: I, er, um...shut up! Have you read your name recently?
Two: I'm numeral-dyslexic.

Paris: I swear, me and Harry played a happy game with the aliens.
Janeway: Normally I'd believe you, but asking me to trust my crew is silly.
Kim: But to boost your morale, we won the fight.
Janeway: Which is also bull -- get outta my face!

Seven: None of us remember anything.
Janeway: You stink at investigation.
Seven: If I induce some technobabble into the alcoves, and create a whatsit-energy-let's-hold-hands-and-have-a-seance link, I may be able to create spooky flashbacks to tell us the story.
Janeway: Elaborate.
Seven: Well, it's risky--
Janeway: Do it.

Seven: Ugh. I thought we dropped this in the revisions. Naomi, er, are you my family?
Naomi: Yep.
Seven: Damn. That means you're mine too.
Naomi: Yippee!

Past Seven: You're gonna die.
Dead Drone: *splutter.*
Past Seven: I'm scared. I guess the baby in me is coming out. Though I'm already a babe....

Past Two, Three and Four: Let's be people!
Past Seven: Erm, no.
Past Two, Three and Four: Please?
Past Seven: Sorry, still on no.
Past Two, Three and Four: Stubborn kid!
Past Seven: Oh, I know this is gonna bite me in the rear, but...
Past Two, Three and Four: Ouchee!

Two, Three and Four: Grrr, rah, rant, annoyed, disgruntled, etc.
Seven: Help, I'm in distress.
Tuvok: I know you're in that dress.
Seven: Geesh, I thought you were more credible than that.
Tuvok: Did you read my only other scene? I've descended into lunacy to keep myself interesti--
Seven: Look, can't you save me already?

Doctor: They're gonna die one way or another, no matter what the technobabble does. BWAHAHAHAHA!...Okay, you should probably ignore that.
Seven: Individuality or collectiveness...hmmm. Guess which one I choose before I read the autocue.

Chakotay: A C/7 scene?
Seven: So soon before "Endgame"? Maybe...
Chakotay: Do the moral thing. Clear your conscience. Let them be individual. Then you can think of me some more.
Seven: Don't be so...okay.

Seven: Survival is insufficient.
Doctor: What?
Seven: I said let's kill them.
Doctor: Oh no, that's bad. Well, okay then.

Two and Four: I'm outta this crazy hole.
Three: I hate Seven, therefore I'm staying on Voyager.
Seven: You won't be on next week's show, if that's what you're thinking. We're not into remembering new crewmembers. Look at the Paradox crew. I mean, Merinox. Tuvox? Whatever....

Seven: Argh! Naomi.
Naomi: Love me like your family.
Seven: My family's dead.
Naomi: So sue me.
(Voyager blasts off at Ludicrous Speed)

THE END

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This fiver was originally published on August 27, 2001.

DISCLAIMER: A lot of stuff in here is copyrighted by Paramount Pictures. My intent isn't to infringe on that; I and those like me are just having a little fun in the universe Gene Roddenberry created. I don't think he'd mind.

All material © 2001, Andy Taylor.