The Coffee Nebula Board is for the discussion of Star Trek: Voyager and other sci-fi/cult shows. This is its Archive of episode discussions, top ten lists, fan fiction, and other miscellaneous musings.
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"This colour... my mother's hair was this colour."
"I thought we agreed. No irrelevant discussions. What is the punishment for disobeying the protocols?"
Letters To (And From) Home
Letter From Tom
Okay... I guess you thought you'd never hear from me again. And I guess I could have written a lot sooner to tell you that I'm sorry about that broken date. Perhaps if the ghosts of Christmas Past had waited another 24 hours before persuading me to confess? It's kind of difficult to keep your appointments when you're under arrest for falsifying evidence.
You could have attended the court martial though. Or at least visited me in New Zealand.
But that's all old news now. I just thought I'd let you know... that holoprogram I was working on? The one at Sandrine's? Well, I finally finished it in the Delta Quadrant, and it's proven to be pretty popular with the crew of Voyager. After four years, Harry and I still go there a couple of times a week to shoot a few racks of pool... providing we can persuade the Captain to shut down her DaVinci program for long enough to let us have some holodeck time too, that is.
I'm afraid I had to delete the Ricky holocharacter though. B'Elanna told me that she needed to purge some of the holodeck database in order to free up space for the EMH program's personality extensions, or the DaVinci program's adaptive reasoning add-on, or something like that. She said it was a direct order from the Captain, but I'm not altogether sure that she might not have had an ulterior motive in there somewhere...
Anyway, it's been nice "talking" to you again. Could you do me a favour and forward the enclosed letter on to my mother? (I'd send it myself, but I'm not sure she'd ever see it if the Admiral happened to set eyes on it first.) Thanks, Rick. I'll stand you a nice dinner when I get back from the Delta Quadrant - provided B'Elanna will let me, of course. So, keep a day free in your diary for 2438!
(Um... B'Elanna tells me I shouldn't use any signoff that might be subject to misinterpretation, so...)
Letter From Chakotay
I imagine that, by the time you receive this letter, you will have heard the news. The Maquis ship that I captained was pulled into the Delta Quadrant by a being of immense power, along with the Federation Starship Voyager. I won't bore you with all the details, which will be in the mission logs that I am certain that Captain Janeway will forwarding to Starfleet, but I will tell you that I have been blessed with an opportunity that I never thought to have again--serving as an officer on a Starfleet vessel. When we initially combined our crews over three years ago, it was anyone's guess as to whether or not we could overcome our admittedly bitter differences and become a functioning, interdependent starship crew, but we did. More than that, we became a family. A matriarchy, in fact.
Of course, considering our tribe's history and tradition, that wasn't a problem for me, at all. Kathryn Janeway, my captain, is an amazing woman, Hawk--a stubborn, determined, techhead with a red-head's temperment and a fiercely protective, almost maternal, attitude toward the crew. I admire her, in many ways, and we have become friends...very good friends, in fact.
I could spend the bulk of this letter recounting our adventures and the new species that we have encountered in the Delta Qudrant. And I'm sure that you would just love to hear about our former borg crewmember, Seven. She reminds me a little of that efficiency expert you dated a few years ago. She looks a little like her, too--and she and B'Elanna mix like matter and anti-matter. You remember me talking about B'Elanna Torres, don't you? She's the chief engineer, now, and pursuing a relationship with Tom Paris. That's right--Admiral Paris' son. Another long story, Hawk, but a good one, I think, with what I hope will be a happy ending. For both Tom and B'Elanna's sake.
Anyway, as I said, I could go on and on, but you can read most of it in the logs. I am hopeful that Starfleet will be able to get messages back to us. If so, I want you to let me know how the family is. I considered writing to Aunt Lillith directly, but you're more communications savvy, and I have more confidence in your ability to coordinate a response...and in your discretion, as well. I've enclosed an encripted message for Glenna. She already has the incription code. If you cannot find her within a reasonable time, destroy the message and mention it to no one.
Tell everyone that I am well and happy and that I have every hope that we will bring Voyager home soon. May the spirits of our ancestors bless you and the family--
Letter From The Doctor
My Dear Dr. Zimmerman,
I am the Mark I holographic doctor program that you helped to create. I just thought that I would send a correspondence to you and give you some insight into programming a holographic doctor.
First let me say thank you for the fine "beginning" program you gave me. I have added a lot of additional programming to my original matrix. So much so that you probably wouldn't recognize me.
Well, of course you would 'recognize' me, I do look like you after all; but, my program has grown and changed a great deal since the time I uttered those immortal first words "Please state the nature of the emergency."
Secondly let me say that you really should work on the personality subroutine from the Mark II holographic doctor. He could use a little improvement in bedside manner. I was impressed by the holoemitters on the Prometheas (sp). Of course, I can go anywhere thanks to my mobile emitter. I aquired that from a theif who stole some 29th century technology. I liberated it from him while we were on a mission in the 20th century. That was an adventure. It was my first away mission, not that it was a voluntary away mission. I was kidnapped. It was not an enjoyable experience.
Oh, it seems that I am running out of space for my message. You would think that Ensign Kim and 7 of 9 could do a better job with the message relay system so that we would not have to limit our messages. I have several papers to submit to the Federation Medical Association.
One more thing before the good Ensign cuts me off: In the future could you PLEASE program the holographic doctors with a little more hair and a bit more controll over his or her program? You would not believe the battles I have had to fight and continue to fight even for the most basic rights.
Oh, and a NAME would be a nice touch don't you think. I still haven't decided on one. Mr. Paris insist on calling me 'Doc.' I suppose it will have to do until I decide on a better one. What? Mr. Kim has just reminded me that we don't have all day to send these messages, so I'll wrap this one up.
Letter From Tuvok
It is well the chance exists to correspond. As you can plainly ascertain, I, and the crew of the Voyager, are not dead. It is agreeable to inform you of the many encounters with unknowns I have had here in the Delta Quadrant; There have been many. The humans I serve with have performed acceptably in many areas.
As you are probably aware, the humans' use of humor is, shall we say, bordering on unacceptable. During my Human studies on Vulcan, the theory of using humor as a code amongst themselves was raised, in that we would be unable to understand any matters they deemed needing security; however, I can attest - that theory may be completely rebuked. It was my...forecast... that the exile we face here in the Delta Quadrant would reduce the use of humor as communication; indeed - it has only been increased. Recently, after receiving a field promotion from Captain Janeway, I was severely attacked through "humor" in some sort of ritualistic activity. I defended myself adequately, indeed, several of the crew accused me of using "humor" to strike back. Logically, I did not correct their beliefs, in the belief that if I answered their attacks in their own terms, the use of humor would be reduced.
It has only increased two-fold. Human characteristics continue to elude me.
If you are able to respond, I inquire about your health, and the health of our children. Also, I wish to cancel my subsription to the Earth magazine called "MAD" - it will be of no use to me out here, and none when I return. I will have no more "humor" for awhile.
And I will return.
Tom's Letter From Home
Message To Michael Eddington
I am addressing this message to Deep Space 9. Admiral Toddman informed me of your imminent posting there at our last contact three years ago.
Commander. You are undoubtedly surprised to hear from me. And equally surprised to see that I again hold the rank and position of a trusted Starfleet officer. The last word that you had was of me turning renegade and joining the Maquis terrorists. You must have believed that I was aiding their illegal efforts to undermine the just peace between the Federation and the Cardassian Union.
I wish to apologize for the unpleasant words exchanged between the two of us at our last meeting. My statements excoriating the Federation's pusillanimity and perfidy in negotiating and maintaining the Federation-Cardassian Treaty of 2470 were merely part of an elaborate ruse concocted by Starfleet Intelligence. I was acting under orders to establish myself as a disgruntled and mutinous Starfleet officer.
Provoking a loud and very public argument with a well-known Starfleet patriot such as yourself seemed the logical course to attract the attention of Maquis sympathizers within Starfleet. The plan worked perfectly; soon afterward, I was contacted by a Maquis recruiter who possessed detailed knowledge of our dispute. Unfortunately, I was never able to ascertain the identity of the Starfleet informer.
You will find the details of my infiltration of the Maquis in my official report, as well as how I came to be on Voyager in the Delta Quadrant. After the facts are all out, you will know that I once again wear my Starfleet uniform with as much pride as you do.
But I can not writing this letter to justify myself to you. Rather this letter is to warn you of the presence of a high-ranking traitor amongst the Starfleet officers posted at Deep Space Nine. Shortly before my disappearance three years ago, I uncovered evidence of such a traitor. But I was unable to transmit my report until now.
I could not conclusively determine the identity of this traitor but evidence indicates that he has passed top-secret Starfleet intelligence reports dealing with DS9 to the Maquis. These reports include some prepared by you at Starfleet Headquarters. The only officer stationed on Deep Space Nine possessing the clearance to readily access such material is Commander Benjamin Sisko.
Despite his outwardly fierce dedication to the Federation, his many personal connections to the Maquis brings his loyalty into question. His close friend, Calvin Hudson, was one of Starfleet defectors instrumental in the creation of the Maquis. I have every confidence in your ability to expose this contemptible traitor before he damages the hard-won peace of the Alpha Quadrant beyond repair.
Your loyal comrade-in-arms,
Letter From B'Elanna
Greetings, and wishes for an honorable day. Your daughter submits to your wisdom and knowledge.
Mother, I'm not sure if you'll get this letter, or if you will want to read it once you do receive it. But, I found myself compelled to write it regardless.
I am now aboard the Federation Starship Voyager, journeying on our way home from the Delta Quadrant. How we arrived here is a long and arduous story;. I wish to have the opportunity to tell you once we've returned to the Alpha Quadrant. But the fact is, this has become more than a journey through space for me. Our trek and trials has helped me to grow, and to learn many things about myself, not only as a Klingon, and a Human, but as a woman. I guess you could say I have firsthand experience with all of those facets, as I was gentically split into a Klingon woman and a Human woman by a doctor of a race suffering from a disease that disfigured and killed . He was under the theory that my Klingon genes would somehow cure them. Unfortunately, my Klingon alter ego was killed before he could finish his research. As awful as the circumstances were, I could not help but feel compassion and pity for them, as race so desperate for an end to their affliction, they would stop at nothing - even go so far as murder - to cure themselves. However, despite the fact that my human side remained alive, I could not survive without the Klingon DNA, of all things. The Doctor aboard our vessel replaced the missing DNA, and I was once again a half Klingon. You know, that was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. After all, I always had dreamed of being a human girl, accepted by the humans as an equal, and by the Klingons as a human, rather than as a half breed freak. All my dreams were dashed because I found that I could not live without the one thing that I hated the most about myself. Since that time, I've had opportunity to reflect on my heritage and even come to terms with it.
I've celebrated two Days of Honor, in mostly the traditional way since I've been aboard Voyager. I say "mostly" because both holidays were less than normal days. I've discovered that yes, despite what you and your family might think, I am a woman of honor. I've changed peoples lives for the better, even made some of them close friends. I've saved my crewmates' lives, defeated many enemies in battle, forced an entire culture to admit that it had in the past commited genocide...and the list goes on.
No, I haven't built any empires lately, but I think I've done something better: I've built relationships, ones that will last, even under strain of battle, and through time.
And Mother, I have even fallen in love. I know what you're thinking, that I am crazy to do this, crazy to become vulnerable, and bare my throat to the enemy, so to speak. But, Tom Paris is an honorable man. You would respect him, I believe. He is a man of integrity, one who readily give his life for another, and almost has, on many occasions. He is a man with whom you get what you see. He has stood by me through thick and thin, and doing some unlikely things. Encouraging me to delve deeper into my Klingon heritage, for instance. Most human men I've run across would go to the other extreme, and have, trying to make me more human. But, I'm not. And Tom cares for me regardless.
I must finish this, so it can be sent with the others. I am well, and hope that you are as well. My thoughts are with you,
Letters Home That Wound Up On The Cutting Room Floor
Janeway to Mark:
"You can keep the dog but I want the leash, the collar, and the fur-lined handcuffs back."
Chakotay to Cal Hudson, Amaros, Michael Eddington and other leaders of the Maquis Free State:
"Have we won yet?"
Chakotay to his mother:
"Mom, you know that sweet Bajoran girl I brought home to meet the family? Well, things didn't work out as I hoped. Turns out she was a real phony. She owed her looks to plastic surgery and she was only pretending to like my friends. After I broke it off, she got pregnant and tried to claim that I was the father. Needless to say, we probably won't be seeing each other again."
Tuvok to wife T'Pel:
"Just calling to let you know I'll be home late. Around 2530 A.D. or so. Should I stop off on my way by the Beta Quadrant and pick up some pizza at Noble Romulan's?
Paris to his father:
"Good news: I'm back in Starfleet and I broke the Warp 10 threshold.
Bad news: I'm dating a Maquis and knocked up the Captain."
Torres to her mother:
"Bad news: I picked a shiftless, good-for-nothing, human p'taQ for my mate just like you did.
Good news: He can't leave like Daddy cause I've got him trapped on a small ship in deep space for the next 60 years."
Kim to Danny Byrd:
"Having great time. Wish you were here."
Seven to Locutus (Picard) and Hugh, President and Treasurer of BDA (Borg Drones Anonymous):
"Hi. My name is Annika and I am a drone. I haven't assimilated a species for over six months."
Seven to Data:
"Hey there, sexy. I heard that you have a thing for blondes and Borgs. My turn-ons are implants, pasty skin, and all-night sessions of intense interfacing. Whether you're into organic or cybernetic lovin', I can show you the best of both worlds. Call me at 1-900-HOT-BORG to initiate first contact. I'm waa-ii-tiing."
Letters Home - From The Lesser Crew Members
Ayala to his wife, Anya:
"Honey, I'm alive and well. I've missed you and the boys so much in the three and a half years that I've been lost in the Delta Quadrant. You must have thought that I was dead and started to go on with your life. You didn't go do anything foolish like get re-married now, did you?"
Joe Carey to his agent, Maurie:
"What's up with that B5 gig you were working on?"
Samantha Wildman to her husband, Greskrendrek:
"I'm happy to inform you that you are the proud father of a two-year old girl. BTW, can you believe that human-Katarian fetuses take sixteen months to gestate: nine months like humans plus seven months like Katarians? Well, can you?"
Vorik to his former betrothed, T'Pera:
"I wish to inform you of my decision to not to choose another mate. It seems only logical that you make the same decision.
P.S. Please send your detailed physiological specifications immediately. The ship's doctor believes that a detailed holographic representation of you may aid me in my ... meditations.
And please send the specs of your sister T'Perahooters as well. The Doctor has been conducting extensive hands-on research on holographic techniques of relieving stress in Vulcans and has expressed a desire for bigger ... a variety of test subjects."
Susan Nicoletti to her fiancee:
<Audio portion of the message lost in transmission.>
Pablo Baytart to his brother Richard and his sister Yasmeen:
<Video portion of the message list in transmission.>
Jenny and Megan Delaney to their sister, Elaine Delaney:
<Audio portion of the message lost in transmission.
"Please send a dozen boxes quick. We're running pretty low and some Klingon b***h just took the last sponge-worthy male out of circulation."
Seven of Nine's Letter Home
To: Any relatives of Annika Hansen (Born Stardate 25479 at the Tendara Colony.)
I am writing at the behest of Captain Kathryn Janeway, commanding officer of the Starship Voyager.
I am unaccustomed to communicating in this manner, nor do I fully understand the purpose behind this "letter." Captain Janeway has expresed the concern that I advise those humans with whom I am biologically related that I am living.
Exactly 19 years, seven months and 12 days ago, the ship occupied by my father, mother, and myself was was overtaken and assimilated by the Borg in the Delta Quadrant. Until five months ago, I functioned as a drone within the Borg community. My designation was Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero-One.
A series of events brought me back into contact with human beings, and I was eventually severed from the collective on the orders of Captain Janeway. My appearance has reverted to human form, however, I retain the designation "Seven of Nine," and am often referred to simply as "Seven." The designation under which you may have known me, "Annika," has no meaning to me.
Although recent events have been difficult, I have found a degree of purpose as an individual within this group, seeking to aid them in their quest to return to the Alpha Quadrant. Although I have little understanding of the phenomenon, I have come to share an interest in the attainment of this goal. It has become a matter of personal interest.
I have no direct knowledge of what became of my biological parents. However, at the time I was severed from the collective, I sensed that the drones which had formerly been my parents remained intact and functional. Again, for reasons I do not comprehend, I have developed a certain curiousity about their fate.
At this writing I am fully functional and reasonably satisfied with my present situation. I have no other matters to report at this time.
Seven of Nine
Neelix's Letter To Earth
To the General Manager of Shoney's Incorporated:
Dear Sir or Madam:
Please accept this letter as an expression of my intent to apply for the position of cook at one of your many fine restaurants throughout the Alpha Quadrant. As you can see from the attached resume, although I am a stranger to your lovely quadrant, I have spent the last four years creating tempting recreations of Alpha Quadrant cuisine for the members of the starship "Voyager." I am especially proud of my "Rodeo Red's Rootin Tootin Chile," (light on the jalopy-noes) and my "Leola Root Provencal." I have spoken with some of my colleagues about your particular menu, and I don't think you'll be disappointed in my "All Talaxian Burger" or my "Hot Fudge Leola Cake."
I have attached several testimonials regarding my culinary artistry for your perusal, but allow me here to recite a few highlights.
"I find it difficult to find the proper adjectives to describe Neelix's cooking,"
"I don't think the cooking world will ever again see as unique a talent."
"Taste is Irrelevant,"
Most Sincerely Yours, Neelix
Top Ten Things Janeway Will Say In Her Letter To Starfleet
(See also Top Ten Lists)
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